Trapped In Lace

Jack tried to control himself, but his resistance crumbled with the little flick of her tongue.

Unable to contain himself anymore, he held Rachel’s head and pulled her into a kiss. He kissed her like a man desperate for a drink and finally got water to quench his thirst. It was fiery, passionate, and demanding.

Rachel’s body went rigid, her eyes opening wide. When she came to her senses, she began to struggle as hard as she could.

Feeling her resistance, he grabbed her hands and imprisoned her in his arms. His eyes were dark and deep, like a bottomless well of emotions.

Rachel was held motionless and had no choice but to accept his kiss. Her brain faltered, and every part of her went on pause as her thoughts caught up. Unconsciously, her anger was placed on the back burner.

Jumping at the chance, Jack slanted his head, deepening the kiss. It was a full-on, open-mouthed, sexual kiss.

He relentlessly attacked her, delving into her mouth. She urged herself to push him away, but couldn’t. Her small defiance quickly pinned down by his body.

He savored her scent and her taste. He kissed her like the most exquisite thing he ever had. He had longed for her and ravaged her as much as he could.

However determined Jack was, he slowed his pace, soon. He remembered her frightened look and continued to kiss her, but this time slowly and tenderly.

Bit by bit, Jack pulled apart after what seemed like ages. Rachel was beyond embarrassed. For a moment, her world was a blur, and it took her a

d when he looked at her just now.

It seemed that the kiss and the words he said last night were influenced by alcohol. However, he didn’t appear to be drunk last night.

She pulled out a chair and sat down as she replayed the memory from the evening. When Jack handed her a spoon, she took it without looking at him. She lowered her eyes to the porridge in her bowl and only whispered, "Thank you."

"You are welcome." Jack also pretended not to see her awkward expression, although no one could have missed it. His mouth twitched, and a wicked glint flickered through his dark eyes.

He could tell at a glimpse that she was nervous, and he tried to conceal his own emotions lest he scared her again.

"Okay, breakfast is ready!" Mendes didn't notice anything wrong with Rachel.

The breakfast was lovely. There were fried eggs and porridge made by Jack, as well as pickles sent from the hotel.

She couldn’t imagine Jack waking up early surrounded by cooking oil and fumes. He even fried eggs for them!

Rachel stared at the food. Her face became stiff as she tried to guess what Jack was thinking.

She was scooping an egg when Mendes suddenly said, "Rachel, was your mouth bitten by mosquitoes?"

Rachel choked after hearing Mendes' question. Her face turned scarlet.

Jack sat with a blank expression on his face, his fingers almost imperceptibly tightened on his spoon. He cleared his throat and faced Mendes. "Eat your breakfast."

"Okay," said the boy. 'Did I say something wrong?' he thought.