The Cold Surgeon's Contract Bride novel Chapter 378

The cool air hitting my bare skin shocked me back to reality.

Shame, panic, and burning fury crashed through me.

My father's hospital bed was literally on the other side of the wall.

And Ferris was in here, stripping off my clothes, forcing himself on me.

"Let me go!" I thrashed wildly, terrified of screaming too loudly.

Maxwell was right next door, and I hadn't properly latched the sitting room door when I rushed in. I couldn't risk anyone hearing the commotion and walking in on us.

But my strength was nothing compared to his. His physical dominance was absolute, leaving me entirely powerless.

Pinned helplessly, my desperate struggles only seemed to fuel his fire, and he took me with effortless, devastating force.

Suffocating in humiliation, staring at that slightly ajar door, a tear slipped down my cheek. I opened my mouth and sank my teeth viciously into his shoulder.

He let out a low grunt, pausing for a fraction of a second, but it didn't stop him. If anything, the pain only amplified his raw, maddening urgency.

His crisp cedarwood scent mingled with the heavy, intoxicating scent of their passion. My luminous skin flushed a deep, feverish pink. Strands of my dark hair, slick with sweat and tears, clung to his shoulder, covering the jagged bite mark I had left on his skin.

It was reckless and depraved.

I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the sheer degradation and agony wash over me, feeling utterly broken.

Defeated and exhausted, I was nothing but a toy in his hands, completely at his mercy.

I didn't know how much time passed before he finally found his release. When I opened my eyes, the sky outside was dark. The room was unlit. I was curled on the small sofa, wrapped securely in a towel. The heavy scent of what we had just done still lingered in the air. Ferris stood by the window.

It was Zelda Ziegler's booming voice.

She was with Zoey, and the girl was having a drunken meltdown, needing Ferris to rush to her rescue.

His brow furrowed in instant panic. Snatching his coat off the sofa, he demanded anxiously, "Where are you? I'll be right there. Keep an eye on her."

Every word I wanted to say died in my throat. I sat silently on the couch, watching him walk out.

From the moment he took the call to the second he left, he didn't hesitate. He didn't even look back at me once. The door slammed shut, plunging the room into absolute, deafening silence.

Outside, the last sliver of daylight vanished.

I wrapped my arms around myself, curling into a tight ball, desperately trying to find some warmth, but it was useless.