Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 225

In the bathroom, Victor lifted Isadora and set her gently on the marble countertop.

He began to undress her, piece by piece.

Isadora’s hazel eyes were glassy and unfocused. She squirmed in his arms. “Who… who are you?” she slurred.

“You jerk, don’t take advantage of me! I’ll… I’ll call the police.”

A muscle twitched in Victor’s jaw.

“Isadora, look at me. Do you know who I am?”

His voice was harsh, but his hands were careful, almost tender, as he eased her out of her clothes.

Isadora’s flushed face turned to the side. She cupped Victor’s flawless, handsome face in her palms and squinted at him, leaning in as if trying to see him clearly.

After a long moment, something seemed to click in her mind. She mumbled, “Vi—Victor? What are you doing here? Where… where am I?”

Victor’s tone was cool. “You’re in heaven.”

He continued undressing her, moving faster now. If a button wouldn’t yield, he simply tugged until it gave way, not caring if it tore.

Finally, every last bit of clothing was gone.

Isadora’s skin was impossibly smooth, pale as ivory, the light casting a faint bluish glow across her body.

Victor swallowed hard, his throat dry. Summoning every ounce of self-control, he lifted her and set her carefully into the bathtub, letting the warm water surround her.

As soon as she touched the water, Isadora’s dizziness only seemed to worsen. She clung to Victor, shouting, “No, no… I don’t want to swim!”

Water splashed everywhere as she thrashed, soaking Victor from head to toe. The frustration building inside him had nowhere to go, and now his chest burned with restless heat.

With a sigh, he peeled off his drenched dress shirt, revealing a chiseled torso, then unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his slacks, climbing into the tub beside her.

Half coaxing, half firm, he managed to wash her as quickly as he could.

When it was over, Victor wrapped her tightly in a soft towel and carried her to the bed.

He took a pale pink nightgown and slipped it over her head.

The bath—and all the fuss—had exhausted her.

Isadora lay on the bed, eyes closed, brow furrowed as if still uncomfortable.