Free Web NovelChapter 200: Chapter Hundred And Ninety Nine
The warm yellow lamplight in the bedroom cast soft, flickering shadows across Camilla’s body. Damon swallowed hard as he looked at her body.
Camilla did not rush. She stood in front of the large wardrobe, completely unbothered by her husband’s stare. With a slow, graceful movement, she slid the light fabric over her head. The pink silk fell smoothly down her body, hugging her slim figure and resting gently just above her knees.
Now she faced Damon.
He was still standing in the exact same spot. His dark brown eyes were wide, staring at her with a mixture of shock and quiet intensity.
Camilla took a few slow steps toward him. Her bare feet made absolutely no sound on the cool floorboards. She stopped just a few inches away from his massive frame, looking up at his sharp jawline. She tilted her head to the side, studying his frozen posture.
Inside her mind, her inner voice was perfectly calm and highly amused.
"Why is he still here?" Camilla thought to herself. "He looks like a big dog that got caught stealing food from the table. He is so stiff. It is almost too easy to tease him."
She slowly raised her right hand. Her delicate fingers hovered over his chest for a brief second. Then, she gently pressed the tips of her fingers against his warm skin.
She began to trace the hard, defined lines of his chest muscles.
Damon flinched slightly. His chest muscles tensed automatically under her soft touch, his skin prickling with sudden heat. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep his body from shaking.
Camilla did not stop. A small, playful smile touched the corners of her pink lips. She enjoyed his reaction immensely. She ran her index finger slowly down to his abdomen, feeling the hard ridges of his stomach, and then dragged it all the way back up. She moved her hand with a slow, agonizing deliberation, tracing the center of his chest, passing his collarbones, and finally resting the tip of her finger gently under his chin.
Damon felt as if his entire body were on fire. It was a hot, liquid heat that started from his chest and rushed straight to his head. It was the type of burning fire that no amount of cold washroom water could ever quench. Only the small, cool hand resting against his skin could bring him any peace, yet she was the one causing the flame to burn hotter.
Camilla slowly slid her hand up to his face. She cupped his warm cheek with her soft palm, her thumb gently brushing his cheekbone.
She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping into a soft, quiet whisper.
"You are starting to loosen up," Camilla whispered. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I like that."
Hearing those words, Damon’s conflicted mind registered a single detail for the night.
"She likes something about me," Damon thought to himself.
His heart gave a sudden, violent thump against his ribs. For his entire life, people had only feared him, hated him, or respected him because of his sword. Nobody had ever looked at him and said they liked his behavior.
"What do I do?" Damon’s thoughts raced wildly, full of anxious, clumsy longing. "What do I do to make her like more things about me? How do I act? How do I speak? I want her to look at me like this all the time."
Camilla gently applied pressure to his chin. She brought his face closer to hers, pulling him down.
Damon did not resist. He slowly bent his head, bringing his face down until his dark brown eyes were level with her hazel eyes. The distance between their faces was so small that he could smell the sweet lavender scent on her skin. freewebnøvel.com
Camilla stared down at his lips. They were slightly parted, trembling just a tiny fraction. She looked back up into his eyes and saw the hesitation hiding behind his glare. He was terrified of making a mistake. He was terrified of pushing her away.
Camilla let out a soft, amused chuckle. She slowly lowered her hand from his cheek.
"I won’t do anything until you are ready," Camilla whispered softly.
Just as the words left her lips, a sudden, polite knocking sound broke the heavy, thick tension of the bedroom.
Knock, knock.
A maid’s voice spoke respectfully from the hallway outside.
"My Lord, My Lady," the maid announced. "Dinner is fully prepared. It is waiting for you in the dining room."
The sudden sound snapped the spell instantly.
Camilla stepped back, removing herself from his personal space. She looked relaxed, as if nothing unusual had just happened between them. She walked over to the wooden chair, picked up her soft silk robe, and tied it securely around her waist.
"I will go down first," Camilla said smoothly, her voice returning to its normal, casual tone.
She turned around, opened the door, and walked out of the room, leaving him alone in the quiet, warm space.
The moment Camilla stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her, Damon felt the invisible, paralyzing weight lift from his body. His legs could finally move again.
He let out a very long, shaky breath, rubbing his face with his hands.
"What is she doing to me?" Damon whispered to the empty room.
He quickly shook his head to clear his chaotic thoughts. He knew he could not go downstairs looking like a mess. He walked into the washroom, quickly splashed some cold water on his bare chest and face, and pulled on a clean, dry white shirt. He buttoned it quickly and hurried out of the room.
~ ••••• ~
Downstairs, the stone hallways of the mansion were quiet, but as Damon approached the dining room, a very unusual sound reached his ears.
It was the sound of loud, happy laughter.
Damon stopped walking near the entrance. He tilted his head, listening. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
He heard Camilla’s clear, cheerful voice speaking. She was in the middle of telling a story.
"And then," Camilla’s voice echoed warmly from the dining room, "I looked at the merchant and said, ’I don’t want it, the fabric is far too cheap.’ And she actually believed me! She was so terrified of losing the sale that she offered me the entire roll of silk for half the price!"
Immediately, a loud round of cheerful laughter erupted from the room.
