Vengeance in His Bed novel Chapter 153

Chapter 153: A Morning Greeting

When morning came.

Dorrent awoke with a sudden, sharp intake of breath, his eyes snapping open in the dimness of his master suite. He didn’t linger in his own sheets. He rose immediately, his chest expanding as he pulled on a loose pair of trousers, leaving his upper body entirely exposed to the cool morning air.

Without doing a single other thing, his mind locked onto a singular, burning destination.

Today was the day. Today, according to the strict medical timeline, Jannah was scheduled to have the plaster cast and the bandages removed from her right arm and her fractured rib. She was finally in good shape, ready to return to her usual self. Dorrent’s blood ran hot with a desperate, impatient anticipation. He wanted his little herbalist back. He wanted her restored, freed from the crude, restricting bindings that had kept her fragile frame so frustratingly delicate and untouchable.

He strode out of his suite, his feet making no sound against the plush carpet of the corridor. He didn’t knock this time. He simply turned the brass handle of Jannah’s bedroom door and stepped inside.

The room was bathed in the soft, golden haze of the early morning light. On the bed, Jannah lay curled up tightly on her side, her knees pulled slightly toward her chest in a defensive, instinctual posture. She was still deeply asleep, her breathing coming in slow, rhythmic sighs that barely stirred the sheets.

Dorrent stopped at the edge of the mattress. He stood frozen, his silver eyes softening into an uncharacteristic, almost reverent gaze as he looked down at her calm, beautiful face. Her pale skin looked like fine porcelain in the morning light, her dark eyelashes casting delicate shadows against her cheeks.

I wish she was always like this, Dorrent thought, his jaw clenching as a rare, possessive warmth bloomed inside his chest. When she is asleep... she is so incredibly peaceful. There is no venom in her voice. There is no blinding hatred burning in her eyes. She doesn’t look at me like I am a monster.

But as his eyes slowly drifted down her sleeping form, his protective warmth evaporated, replaced instantly by a sudden, white-hot spike of raw, primitive hunger.

Because of her injuries, she hadn’t been able to wear her usual thick garments. Instead, she was dressed in a short silk-mesh nightdress—the only light gown her left hand could scramble to find in the dark closets the night before. The fabric was thin, completely see-through under the golden morning light, outlining every single curve of her lean, beautifully shaped body. Her rounded hips, the slender indentation of her waist, and the full, pert curves of her breasts were on complete display. Inside the thin mesh, her pink nipples were pointed, hard from the cool morning air, pressing visibly against the material like a blatant invitation.

A heavy heat exploded straight into Dorrent’s groin. His S-tier biology went blistering hot, his veins pulsing with a sudden, predatory force that drowned out every single ounce of his cognitive control. His nostrils flared, catching the faint, sweet scent of her natural frequency, which was already beginning to react to his presence.

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