Trapped in the boss's embrace (by Katrina A) novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110 Let You Prick Me Back

After a few seconds of hesitation, Beatrice picked up the tie pin and removed its cap.

Her eyes focused on the sharp pin tip as she narrowed them slightly, then turned to study Damian lying on the bed.

She looked him over from head to toe, considering the best place to strike.

His arm might be best... or maybe his thigh?

What about the top of his foot?

No, terrible idea—what if it made him limp?

All these body parts were covered by the sheet anyway.

She'd have to pull back the covers and push up his sleeve or pant leg... which definitely seemed a bit creepy.

Finally, her gaze settled on his hand—the only part of him besides his face and neck that wasn't hidden under the sheets.

She bent down and gently lifted his hand, examining his fingers before selecting his index finger.

She pinched it firmly to hold it steady while her other hand slowly brought the pin closer to his fingertip...

Damian's brow twitched slightly.

Just as the pin was about to make contact, Beatrice paused.

She glanced at his handsome face, still lost in deep sleep, and spoke apologetically, "Mr. Crowley, I'm not trying to be a jerk by stabbing you with a pin. It's just... you're sleeping so deeply."

"My grandma always said if someone's totally impossible to wake up, they're probably trapped in a nightmare, and you need a bowl of blood to snap them out of it."

"It'll sting a bit, sorry about that. I'll count to three, then do it, okay? Here we go—one, two, three—" The moment "three" left her lips, she drove the pin into his fingertip without hesitation.

The pin stabbed empty air.

The fingers she'd been holding suddenly withdrew, and before she could react, her hand was enveloped from below as five fingers slipped between hers, interlocking them in an intimate grip.

Beatrice panicked and tried to yank her hand away.

In the next second, she was pulled downward.

Already bent over, the sudden tug sent her crashing onto him, her chest pressed firmly against his hard, warm torso.

Her eyes widened in shock.

She pushed against his chest with her free hand, trying to get up, but she'd forgotten about the pin.

As she moved, it pricked his chest.

Her hand, still holding the pin, was immediately captured in his grip.

She fell back against his chest, completely flustered.

This seriously freaked her out, and she shouted for him to let go.

When he didn't, she tried jabbing the pin into the back of his hand.

That finally pissed him off enough that he flipped her over, pinning her beneath him. "Are you dead set on draining all my blood?"

His deep, husky voice rumbled as his eyes slowly opened, still drowsy but with a hint of laziness.

Beatrice's heart hammered in her chest.

What kind of crazy position is this?

Her body went rigid, her face flushing uncontrollably. "Mr. Crowley, please let me go so I can get up."

Her eyes darted everywhere, avoiding his face.

No way was she making eye contact right now—that would be playing with fire!

"Let you up and then what? Stick me with a couple more needles?" Damian studied her intensely, his mind stuck on the softness he'd felt when she'd collapsed against him.

His eyes took in everything—her delicate neck, her naturally rosy lips, and her messy hair spread across his pillow, releasing that intoxicating scent.

His breathing hitched, suddenly hot for no reason.

His palm slowly caressed hers, their fingers intertwined, growing damp and sticky.

The atmosphere shifted to something... dangerous and intimate.

"I-I won't stab you anymore, here, take it." Beatrice tossed the pin away.

Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst through her chest. "See? No more pins. You're safe. Can I get up now?"

Damian stared at her for another long moment before finally releasing her.

Beatrice scrambled off the bed.

Her legs felt like jelly, her hair was a mess, her palms were damp and tingling, and she was so unsteady she almost swayed right back onto the bed.

Damian's gaze lingered on her curves, making his breathing irregular again.

With her back to him, Beatrice quickly fixed her hair and clothes before turning around, pretending to be calm. "Mr. Crowley, since you're awake, I'll just head out now."

Whatever message Maria wanted delivered could wait until he came out.

No way was she staying another second.

Waking him up had been way too... intense.

"Don't rush off," Damian called after her.

Beatrice reluctantly turned back, her voice barely audible. "Is there... something else?"

"You stabbed me," he said, pulling open his pajamas to show it.

Beatrice went silent.

Her eyes locked on the tiny dot of blood on his chest—like a tiny red mole—before she finally mumbled, "Sorry."

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