The Sleeper's Wrath and His Wife's Strike novel Chapter 86

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Yves said coldly, his deep eyes flickering with a dangerous glint. “I’d like to see who dares to hurt you behind my back.”

“Then my life is in your hands,” Lindsay answered, her voice soft but steady.

“You don’t have to be afraid. Not when I’m here.” Yves, thinking she was scared, gently cupped her cheek with his large hand, his gaze suddenly warm.

Lindsay shook her head and smiled. “I’m not afraid.”

She’d already died once—what else was there left to fear?

“You’re allowed to be scared, you know. Because you have me,” Yves said out of nowhere, suddenly sentimental. Where on earth had he picked up that line?

Lindsay laughed. “When did you get so talkative? I never noticed this before.”

“That’s because your eyes never stopped on me before.”

She froze for a second, staring at Yves in disbelief. Was he… sulking?

But he wasn’t wrong. Back then, she’d been utterly blind, her whole world fixated on Lester.

Only after she’d finally seen clearly did she realize just how revolting Lester really was.

“So from now on, my eyes will only see you,” she replied, pressing a kiss to Yves' cheek.

That was all it took for Yves' restraint to snap. In one swift motion, he rolled her beneath him, burying his handsome face in the curve of her neck. His voice was rough, breath hot against her skin. “Darling, may I?”

Lindsay could feel the heat radiating from him—he was burning up, struggling to hold back.

She instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist, answering him without words.

Yves' face lit with relief and joy as he looked down at her.

“I’m… a little scared,” she whispered, “so be gentle, okay?”

To Yves, her offer was better than winning the lottery. “If you’re not sure, I can show you how.”

“Ahem, let me… use the bathroom first,” Lindsay stammered, scrambling out of bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

She splashed her face with cold water, nerves jangling, before returning to the bedroom.

Climbing back onto the bed, Lindsay was more anxious than ever. Memories of helping Yves before flashed through her mind—except this time, he was awake, watching her, and it felt so much more awkward.

But Yves took the lead, guiding her step by step, making sure she was at ease and never letting her feel lost.

Much later, after the storm had passed and they lay tangled together, Lindsay rested her head on Yves' chest, listening to his rapid, powerful heartbeat—a steady reminder of everything that had just happened.

He seemed so practiced, so sure of himself. Did that mean he’d done this with lots of women before?

A shadow crossed her face. Suddenly, she propped herself up and glared at Yves. “Just how many women have you been with, anyway?”