Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 411

She let out a snort of laughter, not buying his act of absolute purity for a single second.

Yet, to her utter shock, when evening finally rolled around and they had both finished showering, he legitimately grabbed a blanket and camped out on the living room sofa.

His broad, towering frame crammed onto the cushions looked absurdly pathetic.

Before settling in, he hit her with a devastatingly gentle, husky "goodnight."

Once the lights were out, she lay in the pitch-black bedroom, eyes wide open, staring at the faint outline of the ceiling fixture.

Out in the living room, Lawrence was doing the exact same thing, staring blankly at her closed bedroom door.

Seconds bled into minutes. Driven by an unspoken telepathy, he suddenly sat up just as the bedroom door clicked open.

Dressed in a soft lavender linen pajama set, her hair cascading wildly over her shoulders, she stood there in the doorway. Half a year under the high-altitude sun had barely given her a subtle tan, leaving her looking effortlessly radiant.

After a heavy pause, she softly told him to come in.

A massive, silent grin split his face in the dark. Taking long strides into the bedroom, he smoothly shut the door right before June could wedge his way in.

She curled up on her side, a tiny lump beneath the heavy comforter.

Lifting the edge of the blanket, he slid in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. They fit together flawlessly, his broad chest pressed flush against her back without a fraction of an inch to spare.

They say holding someone face-to-face fills the empty space on the right side of the chest, but holding a lover from behind aligns both hearts in perfect proximity.

He pressed slow, languid kisses behind her ear and down her neck, leaving burning trails across her shoulder blades.

In the smothering darkness, the only sound was their heavy, synchronized breathing and the erratic thumping of their hearts.

But true to his word, he stopped there. Lacing his fingers through hers, he held her hand tightly.

The two custom rings clinked against each other, the hard metal digging into their knuckles.

It was cold, yet a melting, euphoric warmth flooded straight to her core.

His heavy, scorching breath fanned across her ear. "Goodnight, baby."

Without bringing any protection, there was absolutely no way he was going to take things further.

After returning from the disaster zone, Dale had granted them an extended leave of absence.

For two solid weeks, she completely checked out of reality. Her days consisted of walking the dog, taking leisurely strolls, and going on dates with Lawrence.

She was living in absolute paradise.

But Lawrence seemed to be growing more resentful by the hour. He kept dropping incredibly subtle hints, asking if she had forgotten something important.

At first, she was genuinely clueless, drawing a complete blank.

But one night, after seamlessly tucking herself into his arms and exchanging their usual goodnight kisses, she was drifting off when she caught a faint, barely-there hum of frustration from above her.

Then, she felt someone gently lifting her ring-clad hand, pressing a series of meticulous, almost desperate kisses to her knuckles.

It hit her like a freight train.

His thirtieth birthday was right around the corner.