The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 327

"Where are the lights?"

The door to the villa opened, and Lavinia looked at the pitch-black, empty house, afraid to go in.

"Let me find them." Charley's hand groped around the wall for a moment, found the breaker box, and turned on all the lights in the house.

The place was brightly lit.

Completely different from the decor of the small two-story house in Blossom City, the style here was a very avant-garde postmodern design. Every piece of furniture had strong geometric lines, either black or white, occasionally dotted with some red or blue decorations.

"I heard they hired a student of Mondrian to design it." Charley said, "My mom was obsessed with postmodernism for a while."

Lavinia had no idea who Mondrian was.

She was introverted and didn't dare to ask.

"Let me give you a tour." He said.

This villa had many rooms, and the design was indeed very unique. It was no exaggeration to call it a masterpiece of architecture.

But, he took her out to elope, just to look at a house? Lavinia was utterly baffled.

The man was explaining the clever details of the home's decor and the artistic origins of the Mondrian style. His eloquent manner made her want to take a bite out of him.

Lavinia actually felt a bit of resentment in her heart. Resentment that he wasn't taking the initiative.

The number of times they had kissed could be counted on one hand.

The first time, he initiated it, but before kissing her, he actually apologized first, saying "It's my fault."

The second time, she forced a kiss on him.

The third time was just now. He was provoked, so he took the initiative again.

They came down from the mountain in the middle of the night to the villa, and he actually took her to tour the rooms and explain postmodernism.

Lavinia pretended to listen carefully, responding with "Uh-huh, uh-huh," but in her heart, she was thinking about how to break this overly restrained man's composure.

"What are you thinking about?" Charley asked.

Lavinia snapped back to reality, looking at him, blinking her eyes.

"Are you thinking about something else? Or someone else?" He stared at her intently.

Lavinia's mind spun, and she said: "I'm just worried. Is it really okay for us to just leave like this?"

Lavinia deliberately turned her face away and didn't speak.

Her silent demeanor deeply stung him. He grew fierce, suddenly picked her up, and placed her on an art display shelf.

Behind her was an expensive abstract painting, and he roughly swept the picture frame onto the floor.

Lavinia's feet were dangling in the air, her center of gravity unsteady, and she instinctively grabbed his arms.

He stood between her knees, holding her, becoming her only support.

He stared at her for a moment, then lowered his head and kissed her hard.

An aggressive kiss, even more urgent and greedy than the one by the car just now.

Lavinia went completely soft and lost all her strength.

After a long time, sensing her submission, he slowly reduced his force, turning it into a lingering, tender kiss.

After keeping this position and kissing for almost half an hour, Lavinia's legs were numb and her waist ached. Unable to hold on, she pushed him away and complained softly: "My legs are numb."

He then lifted her down from the shelf, kissing her while walking towards the bedroom, and the two tumbled onto the bed.