She Walked Away With His Twins While He Begged the Ground She Walked On novel Chapter 467

He forcefully restrained the urge.

The night breeze shifted, the sheer curtains fluttering gently, and that patch of moonlight flowed slowly with it.

Specks of silver light dusted the edge of the pillow, the room perfectly, utterly silent.

Bathed in the moonlight, her delicate side profile seemed to glow.

As if pulled by gravity, his handsome face drifted closer. He just wanted to lightly brush his lips against hers, to taste those sweet, soft petals one more time.

His lips pressed against hers, then trailed up to flutter against her brow and eyes, like a dragonfly skipping over water, leaving light, brief kisses.

Quinn felt a tickle on her face and immediately assumed a mosquito was biting her.

She swung her hand blindly. *Smack!*

The man took a direct hit to the face without a shred of warning. The lust in his eyes instantly vaporized into furious, burning rage.

"You—"

Seeing her swat him and then wrinkle her nose in absolute disgust was the final straw.

Miles lost every ounce of his legendary restraint. He buried his face in her neck, biting and kissing her skin in a frantic wave of punishment.

Quinn thought she was slipping into a nightmare again, a suffocating wave of despair and grief crashing over her in her sleep.

She tried to shove the weight off, but he wouldn't budge.

The man was completely oblivious to her sleep-induced panic, kissing a dark path down her neck and collarbone.

That intoxicating, addictive rush came flooding back. He wanted more, but the crushing guilt of taking advantage of a sleeping woman finally snapped him back to reality.

In the end, he stopped at her collarbone, violently shoving down the dark, twisting desire wreaking havoc inside him.

He rolled over, falling flat onto his back, pulling his weight off her soft frame.

He dragged himself out of bed, putting as much distance between them as possible. Kicking off the blanket, he practically ran to the bathroom and threw himself under a freezing cold shower to extinguish the invisible fire blazing through his veins.

Under the icy spray, he repeated the same mantra over and over: *Do not cross the line. You and she are impossible.*

Yet the fogged-up bathroom mirror seemed cursed, constantly reflecting the phantom image of Quinn's face...

...

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