CHAPTER 121: 18+ LONG NIGHT

Her heart suddenly clenched until a noise from next door jolted her memory—she had forgotten something important...

Lucas licked his lips, his large hands gently kneading her palms.

His hawk-like eyes burned crimson, the dimples on his cheeks deepening as he leaned closer.

His magnetic voice whispered huskily by her ear, "Well?

Convinced now that I’m different from other men?"

Beauty’s cheeks flushed crimson, her entire body tingling with an indescribable, electrifying sensation.

That night became an unspoken competition with the woman next door. Ultimately, Lucas emerged victorious—their neighbor had fallen completely silent, likely frightened into retreat.

Meanwhile, Beauty found herself utterly overwhelmed, her vision swimming as the bedside lamp swayed rhythmically.

Dazzling stars bloomed behind her eyelids, beautiful and intoxicating. It seemed men would turn into absolute beasts just for a taste of forbidden fruit.

She couldn’t recall when she’d blacked out, but one conclusion became crystal clear: never trust a man’s promises.

Morning light found her curled against someone’s chest, her lower back feeling as though split by an axe.

Every movement sent sharp protests through her body.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she suddenly sensed a piercing gaze.

Goosebumps erupted along her arms as she bit her swollen lips and met his smoldering dark eyes.

"Well?

Did last night meet your expectations?"

Beauty: "..." Was shamelessness a prerequisite for older men?

The way he went at it yesterday was like a starving man devouring his first meal in ages, making her break out in a cold sweat.

It seems you really shouldn’t provoke an older man.

All because of that one careless comment she’d made yesterday when her mouth ran ahead of her brain—something about him not being up to the task.

Who knew the man would hold such a grudge?

He hadn’t let up until she was begging for mercy.

Having a sharp tongue really wasn’t doing her any favors.

"Starting today, someone’s officially a turtle," Beauty muttered, trying to push herself up from the bed.

But the moment she exerted any effort, it felt like every bone in her body had been crushed.

The pain was so intense she couldn’t even straighten her back.

Lucas’s icy face suddenly loomed over her, his voice low and deliberate as he leaned in.

"If you ever call me a turtle again, I’ll make sure you experience this feeling every single night."

A shiver ran down her spine, and she instinctively shielded herself, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

She opened her mouth to retort but nearly bit her tongue.

She knew all too well he had the means to reduce her to pleading.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, scattering flecks of gold across the floor, making everything feel surreal.

With effortless grace, his long legs swung off the bed, and he strode away, looking ten times more invigorated than yesterday.

Only after the bathroom door slammed shut did Beauty finally bury her flushed face in the blankets.

Her neck ached as if it had been wrung out, every slight movement sending a dull throb through her muscles.

Somehow, without even realizing it, she had grown accustomed to his rough treatment.

And right now, instead of resentment or sorrow, there was only a strange, quiet warmth nestled deep in her chest.

Only a madwoman would think being with that perverted old man could bring any joy!

It must have been the atmosphere last night, combined with being looked down upon by the guy next door, that made her feel this absurd exhilaration...

"That’s right, Beauty—you absolutely cannot fall into this.

Otherwise, you’ll end up torn to pieces."

She warned herself over and over in her heart.

Lucas was nothing but a ruthless wolf in sheep’s clothing.

She couldn’t let herself sink any deeper.

And she definitely couldn’t develop any unusual feelings for this man.

The memories of last night’s events flooded her mind, making her burn with shame.

She had never dreamed such sensations could exist—and to think how gentle he had been, his voice soft and coaxed.

A faint thrill still lingered in her chest.

It seemed no matter what kind of man he was, when faced with a woman he desired, even the most ruthless could reveal tenderness and wildness in equal measure.

Even Lucas—the man who could overturn paris with a flick of his wrist—was no exception.

Since ancient times, even the mightiest rulers had fallen at the feet of beauty.

The bathroom door swung open, releasing a cloud of steam laced with the fresh scent of shower gel.

The entire suite was thick with an intoxicating warmth, making it hard to breathe.

Only after he stepped out did Beauty dare to peek from beneath the covers, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Your phone rang earlier," she murmured flatly. Lucas said nothing.

After buttoning his shirt, he picked up his phone from the dresser.

As he passed the nightstand, his gaze flickered briefly to the used condoms in the trash bin.

A faint smile curled at the corners of his lips.

That simple smile made Beauty’s legs go weak as she lay in bed.

She bit down hard on her plush lower lip, wishing she could just vanish into thin air.

Without a word, she snatched the bath towel from the dresser and bolted into the bathroom.

By the time she emerged, Lucas was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the lush greenery outside.

One hand rested behind his back, the other tucked casually into the pocket of his relaxed-fit trousers.

The sound of her footsteps made him turn. His piercing eyes swept over her, lingering on the faint bruises marring her knees and thighs.

A smug smirk tugged at his lips, though a flicker of something softer—something almost like concern—flashed in his gaze.

The shower had revived her, though her body still ached as if she’d been trampled by a herd of elephants.

Every bone protested, but at least she no longer felt like a limp rag doll.

After blow-drying her hair and changing into fresh clothes, she stood waiting for his next move.

She wasn’t about to make any decisions on her own—not after last night.

"We’ll have breakfast at the hotel before heading back to New York," he said, sliding his laptop into a sleek leather case.

"My assistant just called.

There are matters at the company that need my attention."

So soon?

She’d barely been here a day.

A pang of disappointment twisted in her chest.

As if sensing her reluctance, Lucas glanced up, his expression cool.

"There’ll be other chances.

If you want, I can bring you back during the New Year for a longer stay."

His words settled over her like a soothing balm.

When had he started softening toward her, even just a fraction?

They stepped into the hallway just as the couple from the neighboring room emerged.

The four of them locked eyes—and the air thickened with awkwardness.

Beauty wished she could pull a paper bag over her head.

The memory of last night’s mortifying escapades burned in her cheeks.

Then she noticed the other woman’s gaze sliding toward Lucas.

A look of sudden understanding dawned on her face.

Without a word, she yanked her arm free from the disheveled man trailing behind her and stormed off.