NovelEnglishChapter 986
Weston made Stella stand up.
She glanced at her potted plants destroyed by the man who fell in earlier and becsomewhat distressed.
“The soil is full of broken glass...” she grumbled.
“Let others deal with it."
Weston's eyebrows twitched when he saw that she was about to clean up the soil with her bare hands. With a much sterner voice, he told
her, "Stop. You'll hurt your hands."
He forbade her from doing anything else and pulled her away.
"Did you get hurt just now?"
"No," she shook her head. "I didn't."
She then paused to think before asking, "Does your mom have a heart disease?"
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"Yeah," he answered briefly, casting his eyes down at her. "She's had it for many years.
"We'll move to another room," he told her as he led her to the bathroom.* Someone will cand move our stuff
later. Right now, you should wash all the dirt off your paws."
Weston was a notorious neat freak. In fact, he was almost at his limit when he had to suppress his revulsion
while holding her dirty hands.
"These aren't paws," Stella muttered with a pout. "These are my hands..."
He chuckled and placed her hands beneath the faucet before washing them meticulously.
The metal wash basin was lavish, and the gray countertop was spotless. This choice of color gave the room a
chic atmosphere while not looking too cold and impersonal.
Stella's hands were milky white, making her skin look as delicate as jade. The peach fuzz on the back of her hand
and the flush of pink on the exposed fleshy parts of her fingers starkly contrasted against the dark gray
backdrop, making her skin look exceptionally translucent and exquisite.
"Stella..." Weston stood behind her, almost encircling her within his arms. His lips were right next to her ear
when he softly murmured in a hoarse voice, "How is it so fair, hmm?"
He was referring to her skin.
Stella turned her head slightly away, trying to avert from his touch. But no matter how she tried to evade him,
he still caught up to her, with his hot breath filling the crook of her neck.
"And so, so tender..." he murmured before planting kisses from the back of her ear to her cheek. "You smell
divine."
"Weston..." Stella remained relatively clear-headed. "It's still early. It's not even dark outside..."
Weston was a stoic man who had always kept his feelings and emotions concealed. Only when he was in bed
would he say such sweet and tender words to her. He was especially generous with praise when he was ablaze
with desire.
He had always been captivated by her body. He didn't just love her skin, but he even adored her feet.
Whenever his passion was at its peak, the praises he lavished on her far exceeded these...
And they always made Stella blush to the roots of her hair. She would sometimes be so flustered by his words
that no matter how exhausted she was from their lovemaking, she would still try to cover his mouth with her
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"Does that mean," Weston chuckled and teased her by twisting her words," that you'd be okay if we do this after dark?"
As he spoke, he interlaced his long fingers between hers. The sensation of their rubbing knuckles created shockwaves; it was as if an
electrical spark passed through them as they touched.
He was only washing her hands, yet he managed to arouse an ardently erotic sensation inside her. Her knees were now weak. She could only
lean back against his chest and moaned, "Weston..."
Her voice was sultry and smooth as silk as his nlingered on her lips for much longer than usual.
Weston knew that she was at her limits. If he kept on teasing her, her eyes would redden, and she wouldn't be able to handle it.
"We're done," he said. "Your hands are clean now."
He slowly let go of her and grabbed a paper towel to wipe her hands dry.
"Your fingernails are getting quite long," he commented. "Isn't it tto trim them?"
He always paid extraordinary attention to her body. Nothing, not even the tiniest detail, could escape his notice.
"They are quite long indeed,” she replied as she glanced at them, "but they're not so long that they get in the way."
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