Bride of Retribution: Aloof Billionaire's Dominant Game

Charlotte Miller returned to the room and saw Atlas Hallow sitting on the sofa. She smiled and greeted him, ”I thought you wouldn’t be back so early.”

”If I don’t come back early, can you also not come back early?” The danger in his voice rose in the air like fog, almost invisible, but Charlotte could clearly feel it.

”If you need me to be back by a certain time in the future, you can tell me.” The knife to endure rests in her heart, but she must endure because that knife is in Atlas Hallow’s hand. She can only be at his mercy now. Fortunately, Atlas has not done anything excessive so far. If he asks her to come back earlier, she’ll try her best not to stay out late.

”Am I that petty?” The man opened his thin lips while sitting on the sofa, his pupils flickering with light, seeming to penetrate her body bit by bit.

This man’s gaze is poisonous, knife-like, wanting to cut open her chest and see deep into her heart, allowing her to lay bare before him despite her best efforts to hide.

In the moment Charlotte dazed, Atlas extended his hand toward her, his palms opened up in front of him. The deep lines in his hands entwined with each other, and she unconsciously placed her hand into his palm, the temperature just right, carrying a hint of dry warmth.

”Just kidding, what did you buy?” Atlas looked at Charlotte’s small face; her careful demeanor, as if walking on thin ice, made him feel a faint hint of heartache.

”Bought a few dresses, sweaters, and pants.” Charlotte answered truthfully, her clear eyes seemed about to drip water as she looked at Atlas.

”Change and let me have a look.” His hand grasped her smooth little hand, slowly enveloping it in his palm, his gaze falling on the shopping bags on the carpet.

”Oh... okay...” She didn’t know what Atlas wanted, changing clothes? Would this be considered a small pleasure between a married couple? But surely their relationship wasn’t harmonious to that extent?

She stood up, picked up the bags of clothes, and was about to enter the closet when a deep, magnetic voice rose behind her: ”Change here, we’re a couple, aren’t we?”

Almost startled, she felt uneasy, even though they’re married, they’re not a normal couple. How could she change clothes in front of him? This feeling is so strange, like a small animal, stripped bare to be observed without a trace of resistance.

”Want me to help you change?” Atlas’s words made Charlotte quickly shake her head; it would be better to do it herself rather than let him do it.

If she’d known, she wouldn’t have let Ethan Baird choose so many skirts. If it were just simple pants and sweaters, he might not be interested, right? After all, she wears those every day now.

Though abroad, she sometimes wore bikinis when going out to sea, but that feeling is very different. Underwear is underwear, swimwear is swimwear; just thinking about undressing makes her awkward.

Speed, she needed speed...

Exerting her usual fastest speed, she first pulled out a dress, then unzipped and took off her shoes, standing barefoot on the carpet.

Undress, undress, what’s there to fear? Just pretend today is a day at sea sunbathing, although not on a yacht nor by the blue sea or bright sunshine.

Quickly undoing the shirt buttons, then picking up the already unzipped dress, pulling it on over her head, pulling it down to cover her hips before moving to take off her pants. In the blink of an eye, she’d put on the dress, standing in front of him, awkwardly smiling: ”How is it? Does it look good?”

Atlas stood up, Charlotte instinctively took a step back, what did he intend to do?

”The zipper’s undone.” The long zipper lay at her back, too quick for her to notice. Atlas moved behind her, as his firm, warm chest approached, Charlotte shivered slightly.

That feeling arose again; when his male scent comes near, it can make one dizzy as if drugged, heart racing yet unable to move.

Her back was very beautiful, with an enticing curve leading to her hips, snowy, smooth, and tender, like a fine piece of white jade, her back’s seductive butterfly bones almost moving as if about to take flight.

His fingers with thin calluses moved from top to bottom, slowly gliding along her spine, watching as a faint pink appeared where his fingers passed.

”What are you afraid of?” He leaned close to whisper near her ear, his warm lips nearly touching her earlobe, and Charlotte softly replied, ”Not afraid, just not used to it.”

Atlas’s gaze was deep and dark as night. After helping her with the zipper, he hugged her from behind, his elegant, cold voice rising in the air: ”Is it me you’re not used to, or is it men?”

His gaze fell on the tag that had yet to be removed; was it because the dress was pricey, embarrassed to use his card, or was there another reason?

The air in the room seemed to glue together, like soft honey, sweetly alluring yet dangerously suffocating.

”Should I keep changing?” Charlotte whispered, head lowered, her black hair falling loose like a shining ink waterfall, emitting a faint jasmine scent.

”You were too quick; let me do it...” The zipper he’d just pulled up was slowly pulled down again, and he might as well be straightforward, even stripping her bare wouldn’t be better than this agonizing pace of unzipping inch by inch.

Help! Her heart was about to leap out...