CHAPTER 104: CHAPTER 104- TOO HUNGRY

Lilian threw on a robe, her heart pounding as she tiptoed downstairs.

If Dave or Laurent suddenly opened their doors, she’d just say she was thirsty and went to get a glass of water. That excuse should work—hopefully.

Thankfully, the house was silent, the hallway dark and still. She reached the second floor without incident and quietly slipped into Morrison’s room.

He was there, waiting for her.

Lounging against the pillows with a smug smile on his face.

Lilian shot him a sharp glare.

Yeah, right—drunk?

He looked perfectly sober to her.

As soon as she stepped close to the bed, he reached out, pulled her into his arms, and in one smooth motion flipped her onto the mattress beneath him. His face hovered above hers, his voice low and teasing against her lips.

"Did you miss me?"

Lilian rolled her eyes. They’d only been apart for a few hours. Did he really think she missed him that fast?

"Heartless," he muttered, and nipped playfully at the corner of her lips. "I missed you. So much I couldn’t sleep."

He was smiling as he said it. That warm, boyish smile that reached his eyes—those deep, dark eyes that sparkled with mischief and affection.

It lit something inside her.

She stared up at him, breath caught in her throat. How could someone look like that and say such things to her?

His lips brushed against hers, gentle and coaxing. She closed her eyes and responded, lifting her arms to loop around his neck, her body arching instinctively as she kissed him back.

When you liked someone this much—when the feelings grew so overwhelming—it was like the only way to express it was through skin, through warmth, through touch.

The kiss deepened. His hands slid over her back, and she trembled, letting out the softest sound, barely audible.

Morrison swept the blanket off the bed and pulled her down with him onto the thick rug below.

The bed creaked too loudly. The floor was safer.

And just like that, everything became inevitable.

Neither of them said a word. Lilian clung to him in silence, burying her face into his shoulder, biting down on his arm and collarbone to muffle the sounds she couldn’t help but make.

When it was over, she could barely move.

And he—he had the audacity to grin and trace lazy circles on her back while whispering, "Now you’ll have to wear something modest tomorrow night. Can’t let those so-called eligible bachelors see too much skin."

He had left marks. On her chest. On her back.

The man was shameless. Possessive. Petty.

And maybe... just a little too sweet.

After resting in his arms for a bit, Lilian forced herself to get dressed and sneak back to her own room. Morrison clearly didn’t want her to leave, but he let her go, reluctantly.

Back in bed, sleep didn’t come.

Her heart was still racing. Her body still felt... strange.

Too much had happened.

She buried her face in the pillow, groaning softly to herself.

What was that?

Seriously. What was that?

Too wild?

Too impulsive?

Or maybe... just too hungry.

They’d done that—right under her brother’s nose.

Lilian buried her face into her pillow, letting out a muffled groan.

God. What had she done?

She must’ve lost her mind. That was the only explanation. How else could she explain giving in to him so recklessly—and worse, enjoying it so much?

He was a devil.

A dangerous, intoxicating devil.

And he was turning her into someone she didn’t recognize anymore.

She grabbed her phone and sent him a message:

You’re staying at a hotel tomorrow night.

She couldn’t risk keeping him around. Not when her self-control vanished the moment he touched her. Not when being with him made her forget everything else.

His reply came back instantly—and shamelessly:

Why? I loved what just happened. In fact, I’d like to make it a nightly ritual.

You were so into it, so happy, so responsive... Why stop when it feels so good?

He even had the audacity to list three words to describe her "performance," and Lilian flushed so hard her face practically steamed.

She dove under the blanket, hiding her burning cheeks as she typed back frantically:

Please! If we keep this up, my brother will find out sooner or later.

His answer?

I can stay at a hotel—but that depends on how well you behave at the banquet tomorrow night. If you do well, I might spare you.

Lilian frowned.

What does that mean? What do you want me to do?

His reply:

Simple. Don’t let any man get close to you or even think about hitting on you.

Lilian groaned again.

What kind of logic was that?

And before she could ask more, he sent another text:

Anyway, I’m going to sleep.

And just like that, he tossed the whole mess onto her lap and disappeared for the night.

Lilian stared at her screen, frustrated.

Great.

Now she was going to be stressed and sleep-deprived.

The next morning, Laurent had already left for the company, and Dave received a call from Jacob about something urgent, so after dropping his daughter off at school, he went straight to meet him.

The villa was quiet—with only Lilian and Morrison left inside.

Still asleep, Lilian was tucked into her bed. Morrison was also in dreamland—until he wasn’t.

At some point, he slipped into her room, climbed into her bed, and curled himself around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Lilian was jolted awake, half her soul scared out of her.

"What are you doing in my room?!" she hissed, wide-eyed.

Morrison draped a leg over her, his voice sleepy and slow as he murmured,

"Laurent went to work. Your brother’s busy with Jacob. Neither of them will be back anytime soon. Relax."

And just like that, he buried himself comfortably into her warmth like a big, lazy cat.

Lilian, however, couldn’t relax at all. She kept trying to push him away.

"You can’t sleep here! What if they come back suddenly?"

He didn’t even open his eyes, just tightened his arms around her and mumbled,

"They won’t."

He held her so tightly she couldn’t wriggle free. In the end, she gave up, letting him hold her... and eventually, she drifted back to sleep, too.

They were both still dozing off when Lilian’s phone buzzed loudly, snapping them awake. She reached over groggily and saw the name: Laurent.

Instantly, every trace of sleep vanished. Her eyes widened in panic as she glanced at Morrison, still nestled right next to her.

She picked up the call nervously.

"L-Laurent..."

"Lilian, are you up yet?" he asked gently.

"Yeah," she lied, sitting up guiltily. She couldn’t admit she’d just slept through half the morning.

Not her fault.

Totally Morrison’s fault.

If he hadn’t kept her up half the night doing... that, she wouldn’t have slept in.

Laurent sounded apologetic.

"I’m really sorry, I got caught up with work today. And your brother’s busy too—we won’t be home for a while."

He’d called to apologize for not keeping her company like they’d planned. They’d both meant for Lilian to unwind and enjoy her visit, but now it felt like they’d just left her behind.

Lilian didn’t mind at all.

"It’s fine. Don’t worry about me, really. I can go out and explore a little on my own."

At that, she felt a firm squeeze at her waist.

Morrison.

He was giving her a pointed look—say my name, he mouthed.

Lilian sighed.

"And besides, Mr. Morrison is here too. He can take me out."

That should keep them from getting suspicious. No one in the family had ever connected the dots between her and Morrison anyway. They always assumed they were total opposites—no chance of anything happening between them.

Laurent agreed easily.

"That’s actually perfect. I’ll feel better knowing someone’s with you."

Then he added, "You two should stop by Show’s flagship store. I already arranged it with Tina—the editor-in-chief. She’ll have someone there to personally assist you. You can pick out your gown for tonight’s banquet."

Laurent had met Tina a few times through Dave, and they’d all gotten along well. Now that Lilian was in A.T., it was the perfect chance for her to enjoy some shopping and dress up a little.

After a few more reminders, Laurent hung up.

Now wide awake, Lilian turned to the man still snuggled up beside her.

"Get up. It’s almost noon."

Morrison stretched, clearly well-rested—but unwilling to move. He nuzzled deeper into her neck, mumbling,

"Let’s stay in bed a bit longer... Then we’ll go grab lunch. After that, I’ll take you dress shopping."