Chapter 621
Chapter 621
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Chapter 621: Priceless Nights and Morning Regrets
With her lips pink and slightly swollen, Janet glared at the man before her. "You... why wouldn't you let me answer that call?" she demanded, her voice still a bit breathless.
Mason gazed at her, his voice dropping to a low, hypnotic murmur. "You can answer a phone call anytime." He paused, his fingers slowly working through the buttons of his shirt. A hint of danger danced in his eyes. "But a romantic night like this? It’s priceless."
The realization hit her instantly. "You—"
Janet searched for a witty comeback, but she came up empty. She tried to scramble off the bed, but Mason was faster, pinning her back down with the effortless grace of a predator. His lips pressed against hers again, effectively silencing any further protest.
How sly, she thought, even as she felt herself melting into him.
In the dimly lit room, their silhouettes intertwined on the small bed. Janet’s voice wavered as she felt his breath against her skin. "Don’t... don't kiss me there. It’ll leave a mark."
Mason pulled back just enough to murmur against her skin, "Don’t worry. I’ll bring you some ice in the morning."
Janet was speechless. Tomorrow morning? It’s practically dawn already!
The next morning, Janet gingerly slipped out of bed, her muscles aching in a way that made her curse under her breath. she crept into the bathroom and braced herself as she looked in the mirror. Sure enough, her neck was a map of vivid hickeys.
Couldn’t he have aimed literally anywhere else? He just had to go for the neck!
A flush crept up her face as she bit her lower lip. When she lifted her shirt to check the rest, she found more marks scattered across her flat stomach. The problem wasn't just aesthetic; she was scheduled to shoot a film with the chief instructor today, and she had to wear the military uniform. The stiff collar wouldn't be nearly enough to hide this.
Even with ice, those marks weren't going anywhere fast.
"Sh*t," she hissed, reaching for her concealer in a desperate attempt at damage control.
The noise woke Mason. Realizing the space beside him was empty, he got up and followed the sound into the bathroom. He wrapped his arms around her slender waist from behind, pulling her back into his chest. "Why are you up? You should rest a little longer," he murmured gently.
Janet let out an impatient huff. "I have to be at the training camp soon! Unlike you, apparently—you seem remarkably energetic for someone who stayed up all night!"
Mason nibbled on her earlobe, a low chuckle vibrating against her. "I have good stamina. I can't help it."
Janet stayed silent, her face turning a deeper shade of red. Why does everything he says sound like a double entendre?
"Get out. I need to get ready," she said, shoving him toward the door. She managed to push the "King of Hell" out of the bathroom and clicked the lock shut behind him.
By the time Janet made it downstairs, Mason was already seated in the dining room, looking perfectly composed in formal attire. He was the absolute definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
As she entered, one of the servants gave her an odd, lingering look. "Miss Jackson, breakfast is ready!"
"Thank you," Janet replied with a polite, tight-lipped smile.
When she sat across from Mason, she could see a few suspicious red spots peeking out from beneath his own collar. She took a bite of toast and followed it with a sip of milk. Looking at him, a provocative glint entered her eyes.
"Do you know why eunuchs in ancient times were so perverted?" she asked with a sudden giggle.
Mason looked up from his coffee, his eyes filled with adoration and amusement. "Oh? Why is that?"
"Because they had nowhere to relieve their tension!" she said, her voice dripping with mock-innocence. "Since they couldn't satisfy their needs the normal way, they had to resort to... other methods. Like leaving marks all over people's necks, bellies, and thighs."
Mason narrowed his eyes. The adoring look shifted into a smile that was altogether more eerie and frightening. "Are you comparing me to a eunuch, Janet?"
"No, no," Janet waved her hand airily, her eyebrows arched. "I’m just saying—sometimes, those with the most to prove go the most overboard. Just like in the old days!"
Mason gritted his teeth, a grim, dark smile etching itself across his face. "I was trying to be gentle because I felt sorry for how tired you were," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "But it seems you’re deliberately trying to provoke me. Do you really want to see what 'overboard' looks like?"