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Chapter 340
Chapter 340
“Yeah. If I were out here with William, he wouldn’t force me to do something I don’t want to do. And he definitely wouldn’t put me in danger p>
Chris’s voice dropped. “What danger could there possibly be with me p>
Winter didn’t bother answering. She struggled harder. Sitting sideways like this gave her more room to move.
She kicked at him.
He saw it coming. He pinned her knee while his legs closed around hers, trapping them in place.
The moment she raised her hand to hit him, he caught her wrist. At the same time, he lowered his head and pressed his forehead against hers, cutting off any chance she had of headbutting him.
“I won’t let anything happen to you p>
I won’t let anything happen to you.
It was a low, steady promise, but all Winter felt was mockery.
Unable to break free, she stared at his cold, sharp features. He was so close she could feel his breath.
Then she closed her eyes and said nothing.
Gradually, she noticed the yacht slowing down. Then it came to a stop, rocking gently with the waves.
The sudden change made her open her eyes.
There were no buildings in sight. The island was gone. There was nothing around them.
It felt like they were the only ones left in the world.
The moment she opened her eyes, she met his dark, unfathomable gaze.
“It’s just us now,” he said, his voice low and rough.
A huge wave crashed against the yacht, making it lurch violently.
Winter, already forced to sit sideways on his lap, lost her balance. Her body swayed as she tipped toward his chest, and he loosened his hold just slightly.
Her hands were still pinned. Her legs were still trapped. As the yacht rocked, she lost her balance completely and fell forward.
In the next instant, the arm around her waist tightened and pulled her in.
Her upper body collided with his.
The warm weather meant she was only wearing a thin top, and he had on nothing but a black shirt. The impact left their chests pressed flush against each other.
He felt it immediately. The soft, supple curve of her body against him, and the cold tension running through her.
“You think this is romantic?” she snapped, humiliated.
But Chris only tightened his hold, their bodies pressed tightly together with no space left between them.
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With her hands and legs pinned, she had no way to fight back. Rage and humiliation surged through her. Without hesitation, she leaned in and bit down hard on his neck.
Her sharp canines sank into his skin.
He let out a low grunt.
But his hand pressed against her lower back, holding her in place and not letting her pull away.
“The waves are harder to control than you are,” he said coolly. “If they hit us, is that my fault too p>
His words only made her bite down harder.
As she kept biting down, everything she had endured from him came rushing back. The humiliation. The hurt.
Her eyes slowly reddened.
The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and at the same time, tears spilled over.
Warm drops slid down from her face, soaking into his collar and trailing across his chest.
Chris’s body stiffened.
He released her hands.
His broad palm paused briefly at the back of her head, then slowly settled there, gently stroking her hair.
Out of his sight, her eyes were completely cold.
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Cold. Sharp. Like the chill was coming from somewhere deeper.
Time passed, minute by minute.
The surface of the ocean showed nothing but ripples and deep blue.
She lowered her head and wrung out her clothes. The image of his cramping leg flickered through her mind.
The water remained still.
After a moment, she pushed herself up using the railing. Near the helm, she searched through a storage compartment and found a brand-new yacht manual that had never been opened.
She wiped the water off the seat, sat down, and flipped it open, trying to figure out how to operate the boat.
A seagull landed at the front of the yacht, tilting its head as it watched her.
Winter glanced up at it and let out a short whistle.
She began following the labels in the manual, trying to identify each control and start the engine.
Then, without warning, a loud splash hit the side of the yacht, carrying a sharp, almost angry force.
Before she could even turn, she caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye.
His hands gripped the edge. In one swift motion, he pulled himself up from the water.
By the time she turned fully, the salty scent of the sea hit her.
A pair of wet hands grabbed her face.
Before she could react, he lowered his head and kissed her hard.
Chris’s expression darkened. He kissed her with a sharp urgency, almost angry.
She still had the mood to whistle at a bird
His cold lips burned against hers, the force of it making her lips ache.
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Florence
A passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.