The Unwavering Heart That Broke (Nathalie and Lance) novel Chapter 584

Damaris couldn't escape. She was trapped securely in his arms, entirely engulfed by his terrifying grip.

He held her so fiercely, as if trying to crush her into his very bones. The heat radiating off him was overwhelming, leaving her gasping for breath.

She forced her head aside, shoving at his chest. "Let go of me, I'm burning up..."

Hearing that, Lawrence's eyes immediately lit up with a dark thrill. "Hot? Then let's take those clothes off. You'll cool right down."

Matching his words, his hands moved with predatory speed, stripping the dress from her body in a matter of seconds.

He enveloped her again, this time pressing searing kisses down her neck and collarbone, marking her skin, ensuring she smelled only of him.

Damaris's eyes went utterly hollow, swallowed by a suffocating wave of despair.

She didn't know if she would ever make it back home, back to her mother's embrace.

She had been missing for almost a month. Was her mother looking for her? Was she crying every single day?

And Nathalie?

Was she mourning her too?

She had tried to escape, but Lawrence had brought her to a remote private island. The only way in or out was by helicopter.

Escaping was a hopeless fantasy.

"Why aren't you paying attention to me, baby?"

Lawrence's displeased murmur rumbled against her ear. He nipped at her earlobe, sending a jolt of electricity racing down her spine.

Damaris bit her lip, humiliated by her own body's involuntary tremor.

"Don't bite, baby. You'll break the skin, and my heart will ache," Lawrence purred, leaning down to capture her mouth, gently forcing her teeth apart with his tongue.

Damaris was utterly defenseless against his relentless assault.

His voice was a steady, obsessive chant of her pet name, dragging her under, drowning her in a suffocating tide of heavy musky scent and predatory domination until she was completely subdued.

Hurt flashed through his striking blue eyes at the rejection, but he immediately caught her hand again. "Let me bathe you. I promise I'll get you squeaky clean and smelling perfect."

He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "Actually, you already smell perfect. See? Little Lawrence is already saying hello again."

Damaris felt a wave of nausea.

By the time she finished washing, nearly an hour had passed. True to his word, Lawrence had procured a luxury wheelchair and practically forced her into it, wheeling her out for their "stroll."

Damaris gripped the armrests so tightly her knuckles turned white, her chest burning with raw hatred.

But she didn't dare show it. The man was a total lunatic. If she provoked him and he lost control, he might actually kill her.

Survival had to come first.

Exiting the massive manor, she took in the exquisitely manicured grounds. The passing staff, all dressed in identical uniforms, bowed expressionlessly to Lawrence before continuing on their way like soulless automatons.

Damaris had never felt more isolated in her life.