His Plump Mate (Book 1: The 'His' Series) novel Chapter 230

< Chapter 230 A Scream In The Morning 1

Chapter 230 A Scream In The Morning 1

Cecilia’s pov

I woke slowly, my head fuzzy and pounding just enough to make me hate myself.

The ceiling above me wasn’t familiar.

This wasn’t my room.

Panic flared, sharp and immediate.

Before I could do more than grip the sheets tighter, I heard footsteps.

I turned my head-and nearly choked.

+25 Points

Sebastian stepped out of the walk-in closet, fully dressed in a deep navy three-piece suit that

looked like it had been tailored by a god and paid for in blood.

He looked like he belonged on the cover of GQ, not in the same room as me-bed-headed, hungover, and very much wearing nothing but a robe.

Wait.

Scratch that. I was the one in the robe.

A thick, plush hotel-grade one that definitely wasn’t mine.

“…Morning,” I croaked, my voice embarrassingly rough.

“Morning,” he replied, calm as ever.

“You got drunk at the party last night. Then threw up in your room. I moved you here-yours needed a, let’s say, biohazard-level cleaning.”

I blinked. Twice. My brain was still slogging through molasses.

“Oh. Right. Great.”

He nodded toward the closet. “Your clothes are in the dressing room.”

I nodded back, slow and mechanical, like someone who had absolutely no memory of consenting

to a location transfer.

Things had been tense between us when we parted last night. And now… this?

Me, in his robe. In his bed. In his room.

He studied me for a beat-me, half-sitting in his bed, swamped in his robe like I was starring in a

< Chapter 230 A Scream In The Morning 1 post-scandal tabloid photo shoot.

“If you ‘re still feeling rough, take the day off.”

“No need,” I said way too fast. “I’m good. Totally fine.”

“Alright.” He adjusted his cufflinks. “I’ll head out first. Take your time.”

+25 Points

“Yeah. Sure. Yep. Will do.” I nodded like one of those dashboard bobbleheads in a hurricane.

Only after I heard the door click shut did I exhale loudly.

The kind of exhale that comes when your soul tries to re-enter your body after momentary flight.

What the actual hell happened?

I sat up slowly, head still swimming, and then-

The robe shifted.

I froze.

I was naked under it.

As in, completely, no-underwear, no-bra, no-hope naked.

My heart tried to punch its way out of my chest.

Did we… ?

No. That couldn’t be.

I felt… normal. Not sore. Not wrecked. Not deliciously ruined like every other time we’d gotten

reckless.

So why had he undressed me?

Or worse-who had?

I yanked the robe tighter, like I could cinch it around my dignity.

Bits and pieces started to come back-herbal broth, imaginary snacks…

And then-

Oh God.

Oh no.

1. MY. GOD.

<Chapter 230 A Scream In The Morning 1

+25 Points

The next ten minutes were spent reliving every mortifying detail in excruciating high-definition- feeding him imaginary food, pulling his hair, throwing up on him, making him give me a bath, and

then… that kiss.

Those kisses.

The kind that melt your spine and short-circuit your brain. The kind romance novels warn you

about because they lead to very bad, very naked decisions.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, I’d begged him to stay.

Like, stay-stay. Like, “make bad decisions with me” stay.

And he had. With his hands. With his mouth.

I face-planted into the pillow and groaned like a dying animal. My soul was trying to exit my body

out of sheer secondhand embarrassment.

Who even says “I have treats for you” like they ‘re offering themselves as dessert?

I’d propositioned him like a drunk raccoon, and he ‘d responded with… devastating patience.

I stared at the ceiling like it might erase the past ten hours.

Maybe I could fake amnesia.

Yes. Alcohol-induced memory loss. Totally plausible.

If I played it cool and acted like I didn’t remember a damn thing, there was a chance I’d survive

this.

The invincible Cecilia Moore pulled herself together.

I climbed out of bed, still wrapped in the blanket like a traumatized burrito, and shuffled to the dressing room to find my clothes.

Then I spotted the drawer.

The one where Sebastian had arranged my underwear by color gradient.

My brain instantly flashed back to the moment I’d grabbed his hand, breathless, demanding he not

stop.

And then-asking for more.

I stood there like a statue while my reflection mocked me from the vanity mirror.

“It ‘s fine,” I muttered to myself. “We ‘re… familiar. It ‘s not a big deal. Totally survivable.”

3/4

<Chapter 230 A Scream In The Morning 1

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