Marked By the Pureblood Alpha (Deanna and Luis) novel Chapter 157

**Chapter 157: And I Love You**

**Luis’s POV:**

The moment I stepped into the room, the stench of vomit assaulted my senses, and I realized my black suit pants were now stained with Deanna’s mess. A throbbing vein pulsed angrily on my forehead as I wrestled with the urge to lose my temper and toss her out.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. Patience was essential. With a gentle yet firm motion, I slid one arm beneath her knees, lifting her effortlessly. As I carried her toward the bathroom, I felt a mix of frustration and concern. How did we end up here?

Inside the bathroom, I carefully set her down atop the cool marble sink counter. The sight of her in disarray tugged at my heart, and I knew I had to act swiftly. One by one, I started to peel away her clothes, each layer revealing more of the vulnerability beneath.

Deanna’s eyes fluttered, barely open, and she squirmed uncomfortably. “Who… are you?” she mumbled, her voice thick with confusion.

“Hey, it’s me, Luis,” I replied, trying to keep my tone steady despite the chaos unfolding.

“Don’t touch me, you jerk! I’ll… call the cops!” she protested, attempting to push me away, her fingers grazing my shirt collar, sending a jolt through me.

I seized her hands gently, my grip firm yet reassuring. “Deanna, please, look at me. Do you see who I am?”

Her flushed face tilted toward me, and I could see the gears turning in her mind. She cupped my face with her delicate hands, squinting as if trying to clear the haze clouding her vision.

After a few moments, recognition flickered in her eyes. “Lu… is? Why are you here? Where … am I?”

I couldn’t help but smirk at her disoriented state. “You’re in heaven,” I muttered, my voice laced with a mix of humor and tenderness.

With renewed urgency, I hastened to undress her. When a stubborn button resisted my attempts, I yanked it off without a second thought, the sound of ripping fabric echoing in the otherwise silent bathroom.

Finally, every piece of clothing lay discarded around us. Deanna’s skin, illuminated by the soft bathroom light, was smooth and flawless, reminiscent of fine silk—a sight that made my throat go dry. I fought against the heat rising within me, my heart racing.

Gently, I lifted her into the bathtub, the warmth of the water enveloping her. But the moment it touched her skin, she flinched violently, grabbing my wrists and screaming, “No! No swimming!”

Water erupted in a chaotic splash, drenching us both. I was instantly soaked, the coolness of the water contrasting sharply with the fire building in my chest.

Determined to make this work, I stood up, ripped off my wet shirt, unbuckled my belt, and stepped into the tub beside her.

“Okay, Deanna, let’s get you cleaned up,” I said, half-coaxing, half-forcing her to comply as I guided her through the motions of washing.

After the bath, I wrapped her snugly in a towel, her skin still glistening from the water. I carefully set her on the bed and slipped a light pink camisole over her, marveling at how peaceful she looked now.

She seemed utterly exhausted from the chaos of the evening, her eyes fluttering shut, a slight furrow of discomfort creasing her brow. My heart ached at the sight, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on her fair, flushed face. Gently, I brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

Just as I began to rise, I felt her fingers grip the sleeve of my robe with surprising strength. She looked up at me, her big, teary eyes filled with a childlike vulnerability that tugged at my heartstrings.

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