The Broken-hearted She And The Icy He (Lily and John) novel Chapter 357

Chapter 357 I’m Not Your Puppy, Woman

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How could a plush puppy talk? Could it have come to life or turned into some kind of spirit? That fuzzy thought flitted through Lily’s drowsy mind, but before she could make sense of it, sleep tugged her back under.

All she wanted was to do what she always did, fall asleep hugging her plush puppy.

She wrapped her arms completely around him and mumbled, half–asleep, “Puppy, let me hold you….”

Her sudden full–body hug shoved James down against the edge of the bed.

His expression darkened; the air around him turned dangerous.

Puppy… She really thought he was Jackson!

Jealousy burned through him, searing his chest like acid.

Irritated and agitated, he pulled her hands off him again. “I told you–I’m not your puppy. Quit touching me!”

This time, Lily heard him clearly.

But she was still convinced she was dreaming. After all, how could a plush dog turn into a spirit and talk?

And in dreams, she was in control. Why would she be afraid of a disobedient plush toy acting up in her dream?

Her cheeks puffed with defiance. A rebellious streak flared up, and she grabbed at his abs with both hands. “I want to touch them…”

Just grabbing his abs didn’t feel satisfying enough.

Her hands slid upward, groping at his chest, again and again.

So firm, so springy. The sensation was addictive; she couldn’t stop.

In her dream, she had already crowned herself a lawless queen. Chin lifted in arrogance, she ordered, “Puppy, take your shirt off!”

James fell silent.

She wanted to touch Jackson through his shirt, and that wasn’t enough for her? Now she

ted him to take it off?

James’s face turned dark green, then black. He clenched his jaw so hard it looked like he’d transform into a beast and tear someone limb from limb.

Lily, meanwhile, sensed none of the danger.

In her dream, she was a queen, and this was her domain, How dare the puppy disobey?

Her hands continued downward without care or precision. With a punishing grip, she grabbed him again and scolded him with a fierce, but entirely unthreatening tone, “If you don’t take it off, I’ll do it for you!”

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Tour Puppy, Woman

As she spoke, she latched onto the hem of his shirt and refused to let go.

Too tired to put up any real strength, she rolled over, flopping on top of him like an octopus.

With him as her pillow, she felt wonderfully comfortable.

She squirmed up a little higher, wrapped her arms tight around him again, and mumbled, “Too tired to touch… just wanna hold you… hold… puppy…”

Puppy again… James couldn’t take it

With a sudden movement, he

more.

Over and caged her beneath his strong arms and body.

His voice was cold as steel–yet scorching hot, full of tension and heat. “Lily, say it again. Who do you want to hold?”

This plush dog spirit is so dumb.

Lily was just a bitter, knocked–up little woman whose husband only loved men and was about to divorce her. Aside from hugging my stuffed animals in bed, who else could I hold? It’s not like I am dreaming about holding James, right?

She nestled her head against his chest and muttered, “Stupid puppy…”

That did it. She really was thinking about Jackson. Jealousy blazed through him, obliterating what was left of his sanity. James lowered his head and crushed his lips against hers–savage, hungry, like a wolf descending on its prey.

But biting her lips wasn’t enough to ease the ache inside him.

It couldn’t put out the fire raging in his chest.

Clothes tore.

His lips, burning like wildfire, trailed downward, worshiping her skin with near–reverent passion, setting her ice–cold body ablaze.

“Lily…”

His long, slender fingers completely lost control.

Stroke after stroke, like gusts of wind sweeping across rising hills, they stirred the calm waters into a storm.

His grip was too strong; his kisses were too hot, too fierce. Still lost in her dream, Lily soon found herself jolted awake by the intensity.

She struggled to open her eyes and saw a face looming close–handsome and intense.

That face, after ravaging her, quickly rose again, biting down on her slightly parted lips.

Then she heard his voice, cold and sharp, “Lily, who exactly am I?”

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So dangerous. It felt as if she dared give the wrong answer, he would burn her to ashes with that raging fire inside him.

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Nothing left, not even bones,

Lily gave a tiny shiver. What was she supposed to say? The way he asked, so fierce, so threatening, way he didn’t just want me to say “James,” did he? If that was all it took… how childish.

Lily had no idea what to say. She never even got the chance to answer.

Despite how lean he looked, he was nearly six–foot–three and heavy, And now, with his full weight pressing down, especially on her stomach… she couldn’t take it. With her frequent morning sickness, the pressure made her body go stiff.

She was completely overwhelmed.

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