Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 757

Ayla was happy to play the age card now. Being younger meant she could act a little sweet and see if he'd give her what she wanted.

If he didn't, she was definitely going to lose her temper.

She'd changed a lot since the breakup. She was more open now. She didn't bottle herself up anymore, didn't suppress the little moods.

Draven looked at his fired-up girlfriend and found her completely irresistible. He laughed, resigned, and pulled her to him. "Sorry, sorry. I said it wrong. I was the one who lost control first. That's on me entirely."

His lips brushed hers, light and brief. His voice was hoarse, but he really didn't take it further. "Don't be angry, okay?"

"I am angry!" Ayla shoved him hard—but the gap in their strength made it feel less like a push and more like flirting.

Draven caught her hands. The control he'd been clinging to almost snapped again. He stood at the edge of the couch, threaded his arms through hers, and lifted her—she had no choice but to cling to him like a koala.

To keep her from sliding, Draven held her steady by the hips.

Now they were face-to-face.

Their noses brushed.

"Let me carry you to the shower first." His voice was low in her ear. "We won't go all the way tonight. But if you really can't stand it, I'll take care of you."

Ayla's face went red on the spot. She didn't dare look him in the eye—that open, completely matter-of-fact expression was too much. She buried her face against the side of his neck, her cheek pressed to his warm skin, and her face burned even hotter.

The bathroom filled with steam. They were in there a long time. By the time they came out, Ayla's face was completely flushed.

They'd been apart so long. Draven had been tormenting himself the whole time—and tormenting her right along with him. There was, it had to be said, a lot of enjoyment in that.

Draven took a towel and dried her off completely, then wrapped her in a second dry one and carried her to bed.

Ayla had loved the white feather nightgown she'd seen earlier—she'd wanted that one. Draven picked out something with a more modest cut instead.

"You bought it for me, then won't let me wear it?"

"You'd look gorgeous in it. The second I see you in that, I won't be able to stop myself."

Ayla ground her teeth. "Draven, if you don't give me a damn good reason in two days for why you had to hold out, I'm done with you." She added with a scoff, "And the one suffering is you, so don't expect any sympathy from me." And she really didn't feel sorry—because Draven had already taken care of her in the shower.

Draven smiled. "I'm just happy you stayed." He couldn't help but soften. "Ayla, why are you so good to me?"

"Then you better treat me well, dote on me, and take care of me." Ayla had intended to test him for a while longer, but as it turned out, when you're in a room alone with someone you like both mentally and physically, only a saint could truly stay in control once there's physical contact.

Ayla was not a saint.

And on top of that, Draven had been exceptional today. The way he'd handled things with the Winstons and the children—it had given her a security she hadn't felt before. Every worry she'd been carrying didn't feel like a problem anymore.

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