Derek's POV
I held her quietly, without any intention of pressuring her.
I knew she was in immense pain and turmoil, and all I wanted was to help her escape this predicament.
"Ms. Hartley, we can discuss everything else later. The most pressing matter at hand is to resolve your current difficult situation. I understand you are an innocent woman, unwilling to submit easily to others. Still, the circumstances leave us with no other options," I took a deep breath and continued, "I can promise you solemnly that I will not disclose a word of what happens tonight to anyone. After tonight, everything will return to how it was, as if nothing had happened. If you don't have special feelings for me, I can... find someone else for you, like Forrest or..."
Before I could finish, she reached out and gently covered my mouth with her hand, her eyes slightly reproachful. At that moment, my heart fluttered with a hint of panic.
"If there really is no other choice, I would rather it be you," she whispered.
At least we had known each other for a long time, and we understood each other well.
But I knew deep down, she really didn't want it to come to this.
She spoke of refusal, but her body trembled uncontrollably, like a purring cat, gently rubbing against me.
Just holding my waist seemed to no longer satisfy her. I could feel her deep, instinctive longing for what was to come.
Unbidden, memories of our intimate moments together flooded my mind—those sweet and passionate instances, surging like a tide.
I knew she was trying to restrain herself, but her body's instincts were hard to resist.
I lifted a piece of her skirt from the water and used my teeth to tear off a strip of the sheer fabric. Sensing my action, she asked uneasily, "What... what are you doing?"
I didn't answer but gently covered her eyes with the fabric and tied it securely. I hoped this would help her relax, to alleviate her tension.
"Ms. Hartley, you can imagine me to be anyone," I whispered.
She still seemed somewhat reserved, stammering, "Wilmot, no. I, I can still hold on..."
I slowly drained the cold water from the bathtub and refilled it with warm water, then turned off the lights.
Now, only the faint, soft light from outside filtered in, creating just the right ambiance—intimate yet soothing.
She was clearly flustered, her fingers pressing against my chest as she trembled, "I, I'm not ready."
I bent slightly, leaning close to her ear, and said in a low voice, "Your body is ready. It's just your heart that hesitates. Don't be afraid. I don't demand your heart."
My voice in the silent night was magnetic, so much so that even I felt it resonated like Derek's.
She seemed bewitched, her body trembling.
I could sense her inner struggle and contradiction, her last thread of reason fiercely battling her body's instincts.
Gently, I placed my hand on her face, and with just this simple gesture, her body trembled uncontrollably.
Blindfolded, darkness enveloped her, causing unease but also serving as the best aphrodisiac.
She seemed at a loss, one hand clutching my shirt tightly, the other hand fumbling in the dark. Accidentally, her fingers touched my mask, the cold, hard sensation making her pause.
"Take it off for me," I said. My voice echoed in the quiet night, carrying an irresistible force.
As if under a spell, her fingers slowly moved to the back of my head, gently untying the mask's strings.
The mask fell into the water, splashing tiny droplets onto her burning skin.
I could feel her body tense instantly, as if she could sense my gaze on her.
"Don't look at me," she whispered faintly.
"Alright, I won't," I agreed. I knew she was still grappling with her reason, trying to overcome her body's instincts. So, I wasn't in a hurry. I didn't want her to face this with a heavy heart and anxiety.
Her skin was scorching as if it would ignite. I knew her heart must be in turmoil. She might not want to delve into my past, but her body was uncontrollably entwined with mine, eagerly anticipating what was to come.
In her mind, reason and instinct pulled at their limits, her teeth biting her lips tightly, unwilling to relent.
With a sigh of resignation, I gently pressed my finger to her lips, "Don't bite. It hurts."