The Year She Stopped Being Crazy for Him novel Chapter 348

Natalie swatted his hand away. "The elevator is coming down. Someone's going to see."

He let out a faint, hollow laugh, a flash of something almost deranged gleaming in his eyes. "Scared of being seen?"

She didn't answer.

His grip tightened like a vise around her wrist as he practically dragged her toward the car.

Natalie slid into the backseat with him.

The driver was already waiting in the front. The second Hassan got in, he ordered, "Back to Sycamore Quays," and promptly hit the button to raise the privacy partition.

Natalie frowned. "I'm not going back there."

Hassan stared at her. His gaze drifted downward, landing on her lips, which were now flushed and slightly swollen from his kiss.

"It's our last bit of time together," he said quietly.

It sounded almost as if he were lowering his pride, begging for just a moment.

Natalie looked back at him, her expression eerily calm. "I don't want to spend another second with you."

The words seemed to trigger something dark inside him. His hand shot out, gripping the back of her neck as he dragged her close, pressing his lips to hers and biting down on her bottom lip—not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to sting. "You were into it just now, and you know it."

"That was purely biological," Natalie replied smoothly.

His lips twitched into a low, humorless chuckle. "Does biological attraction suddenly not count as attraction?"

"Hassan, how many years have we been sleeping together?" she asked, her tone deadpan. "Four years. Not four days, not four months. I'm not going to change my mind just because my body still remembers how to react to yours."

He listened to her quietly, then let out a sharp scoff.

Pulling back, he leaned heavily against his seat and closed his eyes. "If you hate the idea of going back that much, you can get out yourself when we arrive."

Natalie stared at him. "You could just tell the driver to pull over and let me out right now."

"I'm in a hurry to get home."

It was as if he refused to surrender even a single second to her.

Natalie exhaled a breath of pure frustration. She closed her eyes and didn't say another word.

A while later, the man beside her opened his eyes. His gaze slid sideways, tracing the lines of her face—her brow, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone.

The screen lit up. She had already changed her lock screen from the photo of the two of them.

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