Find me in your labyrinth (Stella and Jonathan) novel Chapter 3464

The meal was relaxed and comfortable. Afterward, Carson urged his mother to rest. "The wind picked up last night, and you didn't sleep well. Go catch up on your rest."

The housekeeper brought over fresh tea and chimed in, "Mrs. Foster insisted on finishing copying a volume of the Heart Sutra last night. She stayed up too late and ended up with insomnia."

"And I still didn't finish," Mrs. Foster sighed regretfully.

Without missing a beat, Marina offered, "You go rest. I'll finish copying it for you."

Mrs. Foster looked genuinely surprised and delighted. "You'll help me?"

Marina instantly realized she might have spoken too soon and backpedaled awkwardly. "Actually, never mind. My handwriting isn't great. I'd hate to ruin the beautiful work you've already done."

Carson snorted. "You can't just take back an offer like that. It's all yours now!"

Marina gritted her teeth and shot him a lethal glare.

"It's fine, copying scriptures is all about sincerity," Mrs. Foster said, beaming at the two of them. "I'll leave the rest of that volume to you."

Left with no choice, Marina agreed. "Of course."

Mrs. Foster added, "Carson, go help Marina."

Carson scowled, while Marina's lips curved into a smug, gloating smile.

*

If there was one thing Carson hated more than anything, it was copying scriptures.

Back in the day, Mrs. Foster used to force him to copy texts with her to build his patience. Just looking at the dense characters gave him a splitting headache, and copying even a few pages left him drained for the rest of the day.

Seeing that he clearly lacked the temperament for it, she had eventually let him off the hook.

Mrs. Foster's study was pristine and elegantly simple. One wall featured a lattice window facing the garden, flanked by two towering bookshelves. In the center sat a sturdy desk holding a small incense burner, traditional calligraphy tools, and neat stacks of scriptures.

Carson merely tightened his iron grip on her waist, forcing her flush into the confines of the chair. He leaned over her, caging her completely as he relentlessly plundered her mouth.

The armchair was spacious, but it was still meant for one. Wedged tightly beneath him, Marina heard the footsteps of the house staff moving just outside the door. Terrified they would be heard, she barely dared to breathe, left completely at the mercy of his ravenous heat.

Carson kissed her until she was breathless, his lips bruising and dominant before slowing to savor her thoroughly. The faint, wet sounds of their tangled mouths filled the sunlit room with an impossibly thick, erotic tension.

A long while later, he finally broke the kiss and pulled back an inch.

Marina lay pinned beneath him, her hair a messy halo, her chest heaving for air. Her eyes were glazed over, and her swollen, kiss-slicked lips looked dangerously inviting.

Carson dragged his thumb lazily over the corner of her mouth, flashing a devastating, predatory smirk. "Eight thousand, eight hundred and eighty-eight. I'll transfer it right now."

Marina kicked out at his leg.

Carson merely trapped her thigh beneath his hand and dipped his head as if going in for a second round. Marina quickly shoved her hands against his broad shoulders in a total panic. "Okay, Carson, enough!"