Love On Ice: Don’t Leave Me, My Charming Liar

Chapter 88: "Lift your foot," he murmured, his tone commanding. The temperature in the room climbed with every thrust of his hips, the insulated walls trapping the heat of their closeness. Nyla bit her lip, trying to muffle her cries. Ethan frowned in dissatisfaction. His pace quickened, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he leaned in, his voice husky. "Don't hold back." Unable to resist, Nyla's body trembled, her lips parting as a sound escaped-a soft, alluring melody of surrender. Two hours later, it was finally over.

Nyla lay in the bed, her exposed shoulders and thighs marked with red impressions and fingerprints. If the visible areas looked like this, it wasn't hard to imagine the state of the unseen parts. Ethan stared at her silently, his emotions a tangled mess-so unlike what he had felt just days ago. He could have refused her. He didn't need to keep a woman who refused to comply. Yet, when he saw Nyla's tear-filled eyes, his resolve wavered. Words of rejection transformed into agreement, and somehow, he had even demanded she move back to Cloudscape Mansion. He couldn't make sense of it.

Looking at Nyla now, sprawled across the bed as if she had endured a tempest, he chose not to press her further. "Start at the company tomorrow," he said, his tone neutral. "I'll take you back to Cloudscape in the evening." Nyla's voice was faint but firm. "No need." Ethan's brow furrowed slightly, prompting her to quickly explain. "I have things at my apartment. I'll pack up and head over myself tonight." Her cheeks were still flushed, her lips swollen and inviting. Nyla's beauty was undeniably captivating, a face that could tempt anyone.

For a fleeting moment, Ethan felt a warmth in his chest. If not for the work awaiting him, he might have stayed beside her. He averted his gaze, suppressing the lingering desire. "Alright," he muttered before leaving the room. Outside, Jackson stood waiting, his posture stiff as though he had been there for a while. He didn't ask questions, sticking to the business at hand. "The one in the basement is dead. But before he died, he confessed to meeting with Mr. Higgins." Don't miss it: gᴀlиovєℓѕ.cоm Ethan leaned back in his chair, seemingly in better spirits after indulging himself.

"Look into it," he ordered curtly. "And make arrangements for Nyla to start tomorrow. You'll accompany her." Jackson hesitated for a split second, surprise flickering across his usually impassive face. "As... a secretary?" Ethan nodded. "Yes." "Understood," Jackson replied. The moment he left the office, Callie approached with a stack of documents in hand. Spotting Jackson, she gave a polite nod. "Is Mr. Brooks back?" During the past two hours, Ethan had instructed Jackson to cancel all his meetings, citing something urgent outside the company.

Callie had come up once, found the office empty, and left. Now, seeing Jackson, she assumed Ethan had returned. "Yes," Jackson replied, his tone clipped. "I'll take those for him. Mr. Brooks is in a meeting." Callie blinked, slightly surprised. Jackson rarely involved himself in such matters, but assuming it was an important meeting, she handed him the documents. . . .