The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen)

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Chapter 1200

Thalassa snapped back to reality and hurriedly pushed at him.

Her push was gentle and seemingly insignificant, but it was enough to signal Lysander that she didn’t

want to.

Lysander caught her misbehaving hand and placed it firmly on his waist, inviting her to wrap her arms

around him.

He released her lips, his breath heavy and raspy, hot puffs brushing against her face, moist kisses

landing on the corner of her mouth, her chin, her neck, and finally peppering feather-light kisses near

her ear..

The deep resonance of his breathing tickled the delicate skin behind Thalassa’s ear, causing her to

involuntarily shrink her neck.

Her long eyelashes were moist, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, as Thalassa gasped, “Stop it,

you’re just tormenting yourself.”

He knew full well she couldn’t right now.

Yet, he continued to fan the flames.

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Wasn’t that just making it harder on himself?

Lysander’s hoarse voice brushed her ear, “What did

you have?”

His voice, low and fluid, vibrated against Thalassa’s eardrum, tightening her nerves.

He was still circling around the fact that she had a meal with Hertha and Spencer.

Lysander could be pettier than a little kid when he wanted to.

Thalassa cautiously replied, “We ordered Hertha’s favorites. I just had a bit on the side.”

“So, what did you have?” Lysander’s lips grazed her earlobe playfully.

That teasing act made Thalassa squirm, her neck itching, her heart fluttering uncontrollably.

Gasping, she pleaded, “Meatloaf with mashed potatoes, fish sticks, and barbecued chicken wings…”

“Hmm,” Lysander grunted, his voice rough, finally sparing her ear.

His face buried in her neck, his rugged breaths slowed, no further actions taken, just pressing down on

her, holding her, as if restraining something.

Thalassa didn’t move either, her hands stayed wrapped around his waist, not pulling away. His waist

was lean and packed with a sense of strength that she could feel even through

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the fabric, dangerous and overwhelming.

Lysander breathed deeply, his grip firm yet controlled.

Thalassa’s own breathing was heavy, her arms lightly encircling his waist, trying to calm her erratic

heartbeat and breath.

After a while, Lysander lifted his head, rolled over, and lay beside Thalassa, finally releasing her.

As his heavy, warm body withdrew, Thalassa’s shoulders relaxed, her eyes closed as sleep

brewed.

Lysander turned to look at her, and upon seeing her eyes closed, he murmured, “Tired?”

“Yeah, I want a nap. Stop talking to me,” Thalassa responded without opening her eyes.

After she spoke, she could feel his intense gaze on her. Even with her eyes closed, she sensed the

darkness and depth of that stare, too profound for her to confront.

So, she simply didn’t meet his gaze, enduring his scrutiny with her

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eyes

shut.

Lysander watched her, noting her eyes darting beneath her delicate eyelids, a clear sign of

her anxiety.

His presence made her nervous.

Lysander’s face tensed slightly. He rose from the bed, pulled the blanket over her, and left the room

quietly.

Hearing the door close, Thalassa opened her eyes, glanced at the light blanket over her, and then

towards the door. She clutched the blanket, her gaze lowered, taking deep breaths to suppress the

swirling emotions and the excited throbbing of her heart.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to sleep, but images of Lysander kept flooding her mind. Recalling

how she asked him if he liked her, his intense kiss, and his question whether she felt his answer, her

heart raced with an inexplicable mix of nervousness and

trepidation.

With all these thoughts, Thalassa tossed and turned, breathing deeply, yet sleep eluded

her.

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