His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 434

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

......

It was past one in the morning, and the villa was excessively quiet.

Virginia had already fallen asleep. Her breathing was light, but even in her dreams, her brows were knitted together.

The bedroom door was pushed open from the outside, and a heavy scent of liquor mixed with tobacco wafted in.

She was always a light sleeper. The moment she heard the noise, her eyes opened on sheer instinct.

The first thing she saw was Archer standing by the bed. His large frame swayed slightly. By the warm glow of the bedside lamp, she could see his reddened eyes and tight jawline.

Virginia sighed, throwing off the covers and stepping out of bed to stand in front of him. "Go take a shower."

Her voice was soft, laced with a profound sense of exhaustion.

Archer didn't move. He simply lowered his gaze, staring at her intently.

Virginia pressed her lips together and reached out to unbutton his shirt. The man's body heat radiated through the thin fabric to her fingertips, so hot that she flinched slightly.

But she didn't stop. She undid the buttons one by one and slipped the shirt off his shoulders.

Archer stood completely still throughout the process, letting her handle him, though his eyes never left her serene face.

"Go take a shower," Virginia repeated, tossing the shirt onto the sofa at the foot of the bed.

His gaze darkened, and he stumbled his way into the bathroom.

The sound of running water soon echoed from inside.

Virginia collapsed onto the sofa, massaging her throbbing temples.

She was genuinely exhausted. This endless, emotionally draining tug-of-war had depleted whatever little energy she had left...

Bang!

A muffled crash came from the bathroom, sounding like a heavy object hitting the floor.

Virginia's heart leaped into her throat.

"Archer?"

The kiss tasted heavily of liquor, wild and completely desperate. He parted her lips with unapologetic force, his tongue sweeping in to claim her.

Virginia's eyes widened, and she shoved hard against his chest with both hands.

But he was too strong. She couldn't budge him an inch.

Archer's large hand cradled the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, kissing her with a fierce, consuming hunger as if trying to devour her whole.

It wasn't until both of them were practically breathless that he finally loosened his grip and pulled back slightly.

They rested their foreheads together, their heavy breaths tangling in the humid air.

The next morning.

Archer headed to the office early, while Virginia, having a rare day off, slept in.

Her loungewear from last night was completely soaked, so she was now wearing a delicate silk slip dress painted with ink-wash patterns, draped with a sheer white cardigan.

She sank into the plush sofa in the living room, holding a tablet as she read through a neurology journal.

The doorbell rang abruptly.