Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1373: I Like the Feeling of Being in Control

Chapter 1373: Chapter 1373: I Like the Feeling of Being in Control

Clearly, Sylvan Cheney was also enjoying himself.

The bedroom temperature rose, and the air was filled with a warm and ambiguous fragrance.

Jasmine Yale gradually lost her reason, as if floating on clouds, allowing Sylvan Cheney to take control.

But, at the critical moment, he stopped and reached over to open the bedside cabinet.

Hearing the noise, Jasmine Yale opened her eyes, her long eyelashes covered in crystal-clear droplets, appearing faint and hazy.

Her eyes darkened, and at the corners of her lips was a hint of grievance.

She knew what he was going to take.

Her eyes, like those of a startled fawn, stared at him: "Can we not use it?"

"No." Sylvan Cheney almost reflexively refused.

He had been negligent last night, not being prepared, but he wouldn’t allow for accidents.

Accidents, those should only happen once, never twice.

He didn’t like the so-called unpredictability; he enjoyed the feeling of being in control.

With her eyes misty, Jasmine Yale looked at him; his resolute expression unchanged, she knew he was firm on certain matters.

Especially when speaking to her in that tone.

Jasmine Yale didn’t insist, closing her eyes.

However, her intense desire suddenly vanished by half.

Sylvan Cheney kissed her neck, indulging.

...

Afterward, he held her: "Go take a shower, okay?"

Jasmine Yale nodded: "I’ll go by myself."

"Mhm."

She was a bit unsteady on her feet but still managed to make her way to the bathroom, supporting herself against the wall.

Soaking herself in the bathtub, she noticed her body was covered in deep and shallow kiss marks.

White steam rose in the bathroom, quickly enveloping the entire space, like a fairyland.

Jasmine Yale’s arms felt weak, and a layer of mist still hung over her eyes.

She didn’t know what she was thinking, as if she wasn’t thinking about anything, with her mind a complete blank.

After a long while, she got out of the bathtub, wrapping herself in a white bathrobe and walking out.

Sylvan Cheney had already showered; he was idly leaning on the bed with a tablet in his hand.

"Aren’t we going to watch a movie? Come here."

Jasmine Yale shook her head: "I still need to dry my hair."

In her fluttering big eyes were traces of clarity and purity, clearer than the starry sky.

She stood barefoot on the ground, bowing her head to look for a hairdryer.

In the restroom, standing in front of the mirror, she silently watched her reflection while drying her hair.

Sylvan Cheney walked up behind her without her noticing and took the hairdryer from her hand, patiently drying her hair for her.

He had gone from not knowing how to dry hair to being very skilled at it.

"I can do it myself, it’s okay."

"I promised you, as long as you keep your hair long, I can wash and dry it for you." Sylvan Cheney said indifferently, his voice deep and restrained.

Jasmine Yale didn’t struggle with him, quietly enjoying it.

His slender fingers wove through her tresses, sending an electric tingle coursing through her, tingling pleasantly.

Jasmine Yale closed her eyes.

All she could hear was the sound of the hairdryer.

Jasmine Yale’s hair was fine and soft, feeling very gentle to the touch.

Gradually, the damp hair became dry.

Jasmine Yale lowered her head again, casually looking around.

"It’s done." Once her hair was no longer damp, he put down the hairdryer.

Jasmine Yale smoothed her hair and applied some oil.

In the mirror, she looked fair and flushed, her cheeks tinged with a soft blush, her long eyelashes fluttering, standing tall and graceful.

"I’m sleepy." She turned around and nestled into his embrace.

Sylvan Cheney ran his fingers through her hair: "I’ll carry you to bed."

"Mhm." Jasmine Yale didn’t object.