Chapter 291: Bewitched by His Beauty Again
A *ding* went off in Ivy Sherwood’s mind, and the last thread of her composure snapped.
"PFFT!" She couldn’t hold it in and sprayed out some of the water she hadn’t yet swallowed.
Quentin Blackwood was close, and the droplets landed right on his Adam’s apple.
The droplets, like beads of sweat, trickled down Quentin Blackwood’s neck. The sound of his breathing, his faint gasps in her ear... it was a thousand times sexier than before.
’He must be one of those legendary male fox spirits—the kind whose charm is deadly.’
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that." Ivy Sherwood tried to grab a tissue to wipe Quentin Blackwood clean.
But Quentin Blackwood had his arm around her, and she couldn’t move at all, let alone reach the tissues.
"You made this mess, Miss Sherwood. Aren’t you going to clean me up?"
"Let me wipe it for you." Unable to get a tissue, Ivy Sherwood raised her hand to wipe him.
But just as her hand was about to touch Quentin Blackwood’s neck, an idea struck Ivy Sherwood. Her eyes curved as a mischievous smile spread across her face.
She wrapped her arms around Quentin Blackwood’s waist and leaned in to kiss his Adam’s apple.
She cleaned away the water droplets in the same manner she’d made them.
This time, it was the thread of Quentin Blackwood’s self-control that snapped. He had held himself back for so many days, and yet here was Ivy Sherwood, daring to tease him!
However, in the split second Quentin Blackwood was stunned, Ivy Sherwood swiftly slipped out of his embrace.
"I’ve cleaned you up now, Mr. Blackwood. I’m going to bed. Good night!"
A classic flirt-and-run, and she was faster than a rabbit.
Quentin Blackwood could only watch her retreating back. ’This woman!’
Quentin Blackwood gave chase, but Ivy Sherwood had already shut the door and bolted it from the inside.
"Ivy, open the door!" The man’s voice was unbelievably hoarse, thick with desire.
"Aren’t there other guest rooms? I’m afraid you’ll have to trouble yourself with another room tonight, Mr. Blackwood," Ivy Sherwood’s voice called from inside.
Silas Blackwood could even hear her stifled laughter, like a mischievous child who thinks she’s successfully pulled a prank, unaware that she’s the one in the most danger.
Ivy Sherwood was still hiding behind the door when she heard a BEEP BEEP. To her shock, the door swung open.
"You..." ’How did Quentin Blackwood open the door?’
"Did you really think you could lock me out of my own territory?" The man’s voice was fierce, and his eyes burned with humanity’s most primal urge.
Seeing Quentin Blackwood like this, Ivy Sherwood knew she was in for it.
"I was wrong!" She gave him a pitiful look. "I was just joking with you. A magnanimous man like Mr. Blackwood wouldn’t hold it against little old me, right?"
She was only trying to apologize the way she’d seen Julian Grant do it, unaware of how incredibly tempting that look was in Quentin Blackwood’s eyes.
It ignited his most primitive desires for control and destruction. Her clear, doe-like eyes were so beautiful—so beautiful he wanted to ruin them.
And her beautiful face—it was too pristine. He just wanted to smudge it.
Quentin Blackwood had no intention of letting her off the hook. All that pent-up tension, which had been building for so long, was about to be unleashed now that they were finally alone.
They didn’t even make it to the bed. Quentin Blackwood pushed her down right there. The floor was covered with a thick wool rug, soft and warm.
He stopped holding back, his eyes like a predator that had stalked its prey for far too long.
His knuckles sharp, he pinched Ivy’s chin. "You were so good with your tongue just now. How about..."
"Mmph..."
...
All night long, Quentin Blackwood used his actions to show Ivy Sherwood the price of teasing him.
Ivy Sherwood swore that while she had indeed *intentionally* cleaned the water from Quentin Blackwood’s Adam’s apple that way, she had never expected him to have so many tricks up his sleeve.
’Under the guise of punishing me, he’s a total beast.’
The next morning, Ivy Sherwood woke up not wanting to lift a single finger.
She had no idea where the man found so much energy; he looked even more vigorous today than he had the past two days.
Julian Grant had wanted to ask Ivy out, but Silas Blackwood refused on her behalf, saying she wasn’t feeling well.
Julian Grant had asked with concern what was wrong with her, wondering if she’d caught a cold.
Quentin Blackwood took the call right next to Ivy, making no effort to be discreet.
Ivy felt incredibly embarrassed listening to the conversation. ’If Julian Grant knew I wasn’t going out, not because I’m sick, but because I can’t even get out of bed, he’d laugh himself silly!’
Ivy had no desire to move. Quentin Blackwood had breakfast brought in for her. After eating, she dozed for a bit before finally dragging herself up. She went and sat on the sofa, wrapping herself up tightly in a blanket, determined not to speak to him.
Later, Julian Grant and the others came over specifically to check on Ivy. Thankfully, she was bundled up securely. She told them she was just feeling a bit dizzy and unwell, assuring them not to worry.
Seeing Ivy’s face without makeup again, Julian Grant and Graham Sherwood couldn’t help but be amazed.
’She’s just too beautiful!’
’With looks like these, like a celestial fairy, it’s a real shame she’s not in show business.’
"Ivy, how is your face even real?" It was so perfectly sculpted, so beautiful you couldn’t look away.
How was Ivy supposed to answer that? She thought for a moment, then said, "Got it from my mom."
Julian was still in awe of her face. "You should just stop wearing makeup. It’s only us here, and no one else knows who you are. Besides, putting it on every day must be exhausting."
Julian couldn’t take his eyes off her. "So beautiful, just so..."
"Have you stared enough? If so, get out!" a certain man nearby snapped, clearly annoyed.
"I’m just worried about Ivy."
"She’s perfectly fine with me here. You, on the other hand, are disturbing her rest. The sight of you gives her a headache."
Julian Grant: "..."
’I don’t think I’m the one who gave Ivy a headache.’
Julian Grant and the others wanted to stay a bit longer, but they were shooed away by Quentin Blackwood.
"So petty! And heartless!" Julian cursed.
’Ivy herself didn’t say anything. Besides, I was just looking because she’s so incredibly beautiful. It’s not like I have any inappropriate designs on her.’
Julian Grant and Graham Sherwood had no choice but to go out by themselves. Since Ivy wasn’t going, Quentin naturally wasn’t going either.
When Quentin Blackwood came back in and closed the door, he saw the little caterpillar on the sofa—a bundled-up Ivy—staring at him with a mournful, reproachful gaze.
That look made Quentin’s Adam’s apple bob again.
He finally understood what people meant by the "sirens" you see on TV. When passions run this deep, you’d be willing to give them your very life.
"This is all your fault!" Ivy said, covering her face. ’I wonder if Julian noticed anything. This is so embarrassing.’
’If I’d known this would happen, I wouldn’t have let Quentin charm me so completely yesterday.’
’That face, that voice... coaxing her over and over.’
Quentin Blackwood readily agreed. "My fault. I’ll exercise more self-control next time."
Ivy: "?"
’Who said anything about a next time?!’