Chapter 8 Lie on Your Stomach

So soft and pitiful the little woman against his chest was that Glen felt his heart contracted violently. It hurt terribly!

However, he maintained an indifferent look and asked in a low voice, "Have you cried enough?"

Realizing her frivolousness, Larissa loosened her hold. Awkward, she lowered her head and wrung her fingers.

Only then did she find that she was wearing a clean nightdress of hers.

Had he helped her change clothes, again?

Glen rose and took out an antibiotic ointment from a medicine cabinet. When he came back, he laid his deep gaze on her. "Lie on your stomach."

Lie on her stomach?

Heart pounding wildly, Larissa looked away from his face. The slight red cheeks became burning hot at this moment.

"Wh-why?"

"Medicine." He stood still there with an utterly expressionless face.

Hearing his answer, she was frozen with shock.

Was he going to apply medicine for her?

But there was nothing else under her dress...

That was too embarrassing!

While she was stunned, the man held her shoulders and turned her over softly...

As her nightdress was lifted high, a chill swept over her back. She felt a cold shiver and said in a daze, "Mr. Lake..."

"Don't move." With a frown, he went on with his movement.

Brushing the black hair from her shoulders, he got some ointment on his finger and applied it to her wounds carefully.

Those long red scratches were so striking against her fair tender skin, which was yet flattered like crystal by the stark contrast.

He couldn't help thinking: how many wounds had this little woman suffered?

"Ah... " Larissa bit her lower lip, but a cry of pain still escaped.

The irritation caused by the ointment made her frown slightly. As she held her breath and fluttered her eyelashes fast, she felt the pain from her back with a wave of coldness and warmth.

"Hold on. Just a minute." With his eyes as deep as the sea, he moved his Adam's apple up and down rapidly, trying hard to repress a strong impulse.

After it was done, she burrowed into the heap of covers and pulled down the hem of her nightdress.

When she met Glen's steady gaze, her heart pounded again. A special feeling filled her mind, but she couldn't tell what it was.

A faint smile flashed on his detached face, and his voice was as mellow as wine brewed in an ancient way. "Why are you looking at me like this?"

Larissa lowered her eyelids hurriedly, her long black hair slipping to her cheeks and covering part of her bashfulness. "Nothing... I'm not looking at you. Th-thank you for doing that for me."

...

It was deep at night.

In the dream, Larissa felt wrapped by warmth all the time. It was soft, comfortable, and secure.

When she wanted to adjust her posture, her head was gently lifted and slowly placed down. Then, she had a new, safe "pillow".

"My girl, sleep."

When she heard that warm voice, her lips curved into a small smile. How long had she not slept so well?

Under the moonlight, Glen gazed at that quiet lovely face for a long time.

Late at night, tortured by an overwhelming desire, he went to the bathroom to have a cold shower...