The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 902

He decided to lay all his cards on the table. "I'm your husband. I get why you'd want privacy from guests when you feed the baby, but why banish me? What exactly am I not allowed to see?"

Ivy was utterly speechless, a furious blush painting her cheeks. She shot him a timid, sidelong glance and muttered, "I just didn't want... to get you all worked up."

"Worked up over what?"

"You know exactly what! You stare at me all day with those predatory eyes like you're about to devour me. Do you think I'm blind?" Ivy snapped, abandoning all pretense since he wanted to play dumb.

It had been nearly a year since his surgery and the subsequent discovery of her pregnancy. At first, his physical condition hadn't allowed for any intimacy, keeping his desires strictly in his head. But now, he was in peak physical health. For a man his age with a completely healthy drive, wanting his wife was entirely normal.

Yet, they were still under a strict doctor's ban. Medical orders dictated they had to wait at least three to five months for her body to fully heal from the C-section before they could even think about easing back into their sex life.

He had been deprived for so long that he was like bone-dry kindling in a desert—the slightest spark could set him ablaze. There was no way she was going to let him watch her breastfeed and fuel that fire.

Jamison had the grace to look slightly abashed, but he held his ground. "You're overthinking it. I'm just looking at you because I care. I have no ulterior motives. I know you're still recovering and off-limits. I'm not an animal."

Ivy shot him a skeptical look and let out a soft sigh. Knowing he wasn't going to budge, and with the baby on the verge of a full-blown meltdown, she finally caved. She unbuttoned her blouse and guided their son to her breast right in front of him.

Dr. Ludwig proved to be a gentleman. He didn't turn his head to stare, even though he had every right to. But he didn't need to look. The eager, rhythmic sounds of his son nursing sent intense ripples of heat straight to his core.

After mere seconds of tense silence, Jamison abruptly shot to his feet, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and marched out of the room without a single word.

Ivy looked up, watching his retreating back. She wanted to laugh but clamped her mouth shut to stifle the sound.

Shoving his hands in his pockets? It was such an obvious tell.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify