Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 760

Ayla's eyes had been a little red, but at that, she burst out laughing. She gave Draven a proper once-over, then delivered her verdict. "Still sharp as ever."

Draven's face darkened. "I'm not old, either."

"Who was it that told me he was having a midlife crisis?"

Draven bit her ear. "Still not old."

Ayla was ticklish, but he was holding her too tightly to escape. She surrendered. "Yes, yes, fine, you're not old, Mr. Storm is in his prime."

The truth was, he really wasn't old.

Draven was 30 this year, but youth practically radiated off him. Solid, strong, reliable—built harder than her own bones.

"I'll just have to prove it to you with actions." He spoke low in her ear. "Tomorrow night."

Ayla's mind went there immediately. Her ears went pink.

"You're already thinking about it, aren't you?"

Ayla clenched her jaw. "Draven, tomorrow night—once."

She hadn't been able to hold her own against him last night, and that wasn't even the real thing. How was she supposed to handle a man who'd been without for four months and was finally going through with it?

She looked at his forearms again—rock hard when flexed, solid as columns. She was honestly going to get eaten alive.

Besides, last night he'd already taken care of her in other ways. She wasn't even that worked up anymore.

Draven's answer was deliberately vague. "We'll see how things go."

Ayla grabbed him. "Give me a straight answer."

"Ayla, there's no straight answer for this." Draven spread his hands, the picture of earnest helplessness.

"...Summon whatever self-control you had last night." Just thinking about it made her shake her head. "You seriously blew my mind."

He'd gone without for so long before her. All that stored-up energy went into her—extremely, intensely so. Ayla had barely held on the night before, and he'd still managed to stop. Honestly, it was impressive.

So Ayla was genuinely curious: what was it about this specific day that he'd been saving it for?

But she knew that if she asked now, Draven wouldn't tell her. She didn't waste the energy.

Draven said, without a trace of shame, "I know myself. I don't have that kind of willpower to spare."

Ayla looked at him and finally understood what it felt like when a perfectly decent person decided to play shameless.

She asked, suddenly. "Do you like my body, or do you like me?"

Draven looked at her. "I like you—which is why I like your body."

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