CHAPTER 95: CHAPTER 95- I SWEAR

Sure enough, when Lilian arrived downstairs at her building, she saw his car already parked there. It looked like he had dropped off his parents and come straight over.

As soon as he saw her, he got out, opened the trunk, and pulled out a small suitcase.

Lilian frowned and walked over,

"What’s with the suitcase?"

He answered casually,

"Some of my daily essentials. I’m leaving a set at your place—makes things easier."

Lilian was speechless.

This was basically him moving in, but she hadn’t agreed to any of this.

She immediately blocked him,

"No way!"

Worried, she explained,

"My mom sometimes comes over here. If she sees your stuff, it’ll be a disaster!"

She was telling the truth — Tiffany did come by occasionally, not often, but what if one day she showed up and saw a man’s things at her place? That would be chaos.

Morrison glanced at her, then with one hand carrying the suitcase and the other grabbing hers, he pulled her inside,

"That’s not my problem. All I know is, when I’m staying at your place, I want to use the stuff I’m used to."

He said it so nonchalantly, as if getting caught wasn’t his concern at all.

Lilian was furious, struggling to free her hand,

"How can you be like this!"

As she flailed, her hand bumped against something hard and box-like in his pocket, poking painfully.

She glared and asked,

"What’s that in your pocket?"

Morrison let go and pulled it out, handing it to her.

"Essentials."

Lilian took it, glanced inside, and immediately threw it back at him,

"You—you—"

"Shameless!"

Then she turned and dashed upstairs.

Morrison caught the box, glanced after her, and said softly,

"Am I wrong?"

Lilian ran even faster.

Morrison arrived earlier than she did. While waiting, he stopped by the pharmacy at the entrance of her apartment complex to buy a box of condoms.

The night before, they were at a hotel, and the room had everything prepared. But here—her place—he doubted she had anything like that. So he took the initiative.

Physical intimacy was one thing. But contraception—he took that seriously.

Their relationship was far from stable. If something unexpected happened, like a child... things would only get more complicated. And he would never let that happen, not if it meant putting her body through pain she didn’t need.

Lilian had gotten home first. Morrison came in shortly after, suitcase in hand.

She stood in the living room, looking visibly distressed.

She hadn’t figured out how to deal with what was happening between them—this strange, messy, undefined situation. Now he was literally moving in? Half-living together? It was... too much.

But Morrison didn’t give her time to think.

He set down his suitcase, closed the door, walked over, and pulled her into his arms. Then he kissed her—tender at first, like spring rain, but quickly deepened into something hungry, possessive. She couldn’t even stay on her feet.

He guided her gently down onto the couch, and from there, everything spiraled beyond control.

That "essential item" he had bought? Definitely not wasted. In fact, they went through more than one.

His body was solid and powerful, his muscles defined in all the right places. Even the tone of his skin—sun-kissed and warm—was a temptation. Every time she touched him, Lilian felt her entire body melt.

She didn’t even dare hold onto him. But he wouldn’t let her retreat.

He kept guiding her hands back to his shoulders, his arms—anywhere. He wanted her to feel him. He never missed a chance to seduce her with nothing but his body.

Her kitchen, unsurprisingly, was more decorative than functional.

So the next morning, it was Morrison who got up early and made breakfast.

Lilian? She couldn’t even open her eyes.

He came to wake her several times, but she stubbornly refused to get out of bed.

Well, it wasn’t really refusal. She couldn’t get up.

She didn’t even remember how many times she had begged him to stop last night.

She only remembered one thing clearly:

He made her call his name over and over.

Morrison... Morrison...

He also made her promise—swear, even—that she’d listen to him from now on. Obey him. Do whatever he said.

She probably said yes. Because in that moment, she was willing to say anything just for a little peace. Just to sleep.

Now, seeing how much trouble she had even lifting the blanket, Morrison withdrew his hand from under the covers—he’d originally planned to tease her awake, but ended up just setting himself on fire.

Not anger.

Something far more dangerous.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips, whispering gently,

"If you’re really this exhausted... then rest. I’ll call HR and take care of the leave for you."

There was something very rare in his voice—tenderness. Maybe even guilt.

Because, yes, Morrison was worried about her.

He was well aware of just how desperately he had wanted her.

For so long, he had imagined what it would feel like to finally have her—to taste her, to hold her, to lose himself in the softness of her youthful body.

And now that he had?

It was even better than he had imagined. Addictive, even. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want to get enough.

Lilian, still half-asleep and curled up under the covers, didn’t immediately realize what was happening.

But when she finally came to her senses and sat up, Morrison was already at the edge of the bed, phone in hand, calling the HR manager to request a day off for her.

Lilian practically launched herself at him.

"What are you doing?! You can’t call!" she yelped, grabbing at his phone.

It was too late. The call had already connected.

And unfortunately, her voice—urgent and unmistakably intimate—had traveled clearly through the line.

On the other end, the HR manager froze.

The CEO’s personal line, early in the morning... and a woman’s voice shouting "You can’t call!"?

Everyone knew Morrison Hayes was notorious when it came to relationships, but this—this was new. No one had ever heard a woman speak to him like that, let alone snatch the phone from him.

Lilian, completely flustered, hung up without another word.

"I’m up already! No need to call anyone!" she insisted.

Only then did she realize she was still wearing... nothing.

She had been in such a panic that she hadn’t noticed she’d climbed straight out of bed and into his arms—just like that.

Morrison’s gaze turned dark in an instant.

She felt it—the shift in his mood—and tried to back away. But before she could escape, he had already pulled her back into his arms and pressed her down onto the bed once more.

His kiss fell hard, unrelenting, trailing downward like a tide that refused to ebb.

Needless to say, they ended up being very late for work.

When they finally made it to the office, Morrison was the one driving.

Lilian had originally insisted on taking her own car—she didn’t want anyone at work getting the wrong idea.

But in the end, she simply didn’t have the strength.

As they drove, Lilian sat in the passenger seat growing increasingly frustrated.

"Could you not do that again?" she grumbled. "I really don’t want to be late to work."

If he pulled stunts like this every morning, how was she ever supposed to show up on time?

Morrison chuckled, eyes on the road.

"Do what again?" he asked, playing dumb.

"You know what," she snapped, blushing.

She couldn’t even bring herself to say it.

What he did this morning—how he woke her up—it was unthinkable. She covered her face with her hands, groaning.

Turning to the window to hide her flushed cheeks, she mumbled through gritted teeth,

"Anyway, from now on, you’re not allowed to bully me in the morning. Or I swear, I’m moving in with my mom."