Chapter 5: Sleepless While He Suffers

“Why do you think you have the right to control my freedom?” Giselle Lambert demanded, her voice sharp with fury and teeth clenched in anger. “Because you’re mine.” Henry Jefferson pushed a pen into her hand and guided her fingers to sign a document before tossing it onto the nightstand. He roughly yanked open Giselle’s nightgown, making her shiver from the sudden exposure and retreat in fear. She feared he would force himself on her again and stared at him with wide, horrified eyes. “What are you doing? I’m still injured, the doctor said I shouldn’t engage in strenuous activity because of my concussion.” Henry smirked dismissively, “Intimacy doesn’t count as strenuous.” “It does with you!” Her pouty retort was utterly adorable. Giselle was usually so aloof, but now her spirited reaction was a side of her that Henry rarely saw and found irresistibly endearing. He couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss. Giselle rubbed vigorously where he had kissed, turning the skin there pink. He wasn’t bothered, though, and began applying ointment to her wound, spreading it gently in circles. Her skin was as smooth and delicate as jade, soft to the touch and fragrant with her bath scent. Henry had meant to simply apply the medicine, but the mere touch ignited an overwhelming desire within him, heating his entire body. In her presence, he always overestimated his self-control. Desire clouded his eyes, growing deeper by the moment. Beneath him, Giselle felt every touch electrify her, sending tingles down to her spine. She glanced down and noticed his obvious arousal. “Get off, I can apply it myself,” she said, delivering a kick to his stomach. To Henry, her resistance seemed flirtatious. He captured her foot, the pale skin showing delicate blue veins, soft as tender lotus root. “Be good, or it’ll be uncomfortable for you,” he murmured, his voice rough with barely contained desire. “You’re always such a brute,” she snapped back, her words seething with disdain. Yet Henry simply grinned, unabashedly accepting, “Yes, I am.” Embracing his nature, he grabbed both her hands above her head and pressed down to steal a kiss. Giselle had no way to escape; her lips remained tightly sealed. Henry chuckled lowly, skilfully prying apart her teeth with his fingers. His tongue explored assertively, claiming her completely for himself. Infuriated by his audacity, Giselle bit down hard on his lower lip. The taste of blood briefly filled their mouths, but Henry seemed unaffected, only releasing her when she was almost out of breath. The small cut on Henry’s lip bled slightly, adding a rugged charm to his already fierce and handsome face. He casually wiped away the blood, unconcerned. As long as Giselle was by his side, these were just minor troubles. After the ordeal of applying the medicine, Henry fetched her a new set of pajamas and took a cold shower. When he emerged from the shower, he found Giselle leaning against the headboard, browsing the news. Her phone had been disabled except for news and short videos. Seeing Henry, she put down the phone and curled up under the covers, turning her back to him. Henry, still chilled from the shower, clung tightly to her from behind, his arms wrapping around her like chains. Giselle despised this, struggling slightly. “Don’t move,” Henry whispered, nibbling on her earlobe, “or I’ll find it very hard to restrain myself.” She felt him pressing against her, and through gritted teeth, she cursed, “Beast!” His husky voice, rich and gritty like a cello mixed with rough sand, whispered, “When you decide to behave and stop trying to escape, I’ll let you visit your grandmother, okay?” After a long silence with no response, Henry thought Giselle had fallen asleep and soon drifted off himself. In the night, a faint shimmer of tears glistened in her eyes. Under such oppressive restraint, how could she possibly sleep? Fortunately, her grandmother needed surgery soon, and Henry always kept his promises. If she acted obediently for a while, she would be allowed to see her grandmother. The next morning, Giselle woke to find Henry getting dressed. His back was to the balcony, the morning light illuminating his muscular, exceedingly handsome physique. Giselle paused, and Henry, pleased by her reaction, pulled on his shirt and approached her, asking, “Like it?” “I don’t,” Giselle turned her face away. Henry tossed her his tie, “Since you’re awake, you might as well help me with this.” “No.” “Do you still want to see your grandmother?” Reluctantly, Giselle sat up and coldly slipped the tie around his neck, secretly wishing she could strangle him with it. He was too tall; sitting down, she couldn’t reach his neck properly. “Bend down,” she commanded. Henry, surprisingly compliant, bent forward, lowering his head to a more manageable height for her. Giselle quickly tied the simplest knot she could and immediately let go of the tie without lingering a moment longer.