Babel Novel
Chapter 1391
Chapter 1391 Racing Heartbeat
Wynter could sense an inexplicable ferocity emanating from Dalton. It felt as though there was a subtle hint of hatred, or was there?
However, she had no spare thoughts to ponder why.
This was a feeling unlike any Wynter had experienced before. It was as if she was being suspended in mid- air.
Her eyes were open, yet her vision was unfocused. Even Dalton's breath seemed to possess a hint of aggression that infiltrated her entire being with every exhale near her ear.
The moment Dalton's fingertips pressed against her waist, an instinctive urge to push him away surged within her. She hadn't thought that the heat could still be intensified.
It was as if he could ignite her. An unknown fire began to spread from her neck and radiated downward. The heat was so intense that she had to tilt her head back as if that was the only way to breathe.
It was just like that dream where her heartbeat and body temperature felt out of control between sleep and wakefulness. She could barely recall it now. But this was different because Wynter was acutely aware that this was reality.
From the periphery of her vision, she could catch glimpses of the vast river view outside the windows. It wasn't entirely vivid, but it was enough to ground her in the present moment.
The overwhelming sensation compelled her to reach out and grip Dalton's trench coat.
For a moment, his face was strikingly vivid to her. It was a look she had never seen before. He was both restrained and poised, yet on the brink of eruption.
Despite his usual composure and aloofness, his eyes betrayed his emotions. His breath was low and heavy, making it inexplicably sensual.
Once his calm facade was broken, Wynter found herself drawn to see what other expressions he might reveal. It felt as though she held the power to uncover all of his hidden facets.
This sensation she experienced amplified the pleasure her body felt in ways she struggled to describe. The warm breath brushing against her ear was addictively enticing.
The reflections on the glass windows danced with shifting shadows. Wynter had no idea what she looked like at that moment.
There was a playful, almost sinister quality to her expression, with the corners of her eyes glistening with tears yet devoid of any plea for mercy. The tear mole on her face, usually subtle, was now strikingly prominent, like an alluring enigma.
Dalton wouldn't have stopped at all if it weren't for the approaching footsteps.
Normally, no one would dare disturb Dalton. But thanks to Cyrus, who insisted on getting an explanation, Shermaine didn't have a choice. After all, if this continued, it could tarnish Dalton's reputation within the Whitman family.
Shermaine didn't understand what Cyrus was so worried about. Did the Whitmans really fear something like infidelity?
As someone who stood by Dalton's side for over a century, Shermaine had always believed that nothing could truly stir Dalton's emotions.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.
After all, he was indifferent to matters of love and relationships. His heart was as unshakable as a calm
sea. There was no way-
Shermaine's further thoughts came to an abrupt stop.
What unfolded before her eyes was utterly unbelievable. The usually aloof Dalton was holding Wynter by the waist, his gaze momentarily shifting toward them.
His strikingly handsome face was still marked by lingering desire. It was a jarring contrast to his usual demeanor.
Even Cyrus was momentarily stunned. He had never seen a man so dangerously alluring. Despite his frequent exposure to high-profile events and extravagant parties abroad, nothing compared to this.
It was as if everything around Dalton, including the sky outside the window, existed merely to accentuate his presence.
Dalton seemed entirely indifferent. The gaze he directed at them was icy and detached to the core as if conveying a simple, unspoken message, "Who gave you the permission to enter?"