Chapter 82 Are You Going to Torture Me?
Athena woke up to an overwhelming warmth. Byron had almost completely wrapped himself around her. She shifted slightly, trying to create some space, but Byron instantly stirred, waking up with a softness in his touch.
“Let go of me. I’m hot,” Athena whispered, hoping to escape his embrace, but instead, Byron held her even tighter. He kissed her cheeks and neck gently.
Five years of intimacy had made him an expert in seducing her, and he knew exactly how to respond to her every movement.
“Mr. Crawford, there’s a meeting at eight o’clock,” Athena managed to say, breathless, her voice hoarse as she struggled to catch her breath.
Byron lifted his head, kissing her lips deeply in response. “Thea, how long are you going to torture me?” he asked, his voice laced with both frustration and longing.
Athena’s face flushed bright red. She could feel the heat of the situation closing in on her.
“Mr. Crawford, if you really need it, you can find someone else. Ruby…” Athena started, trying to deflect.
Before she could finish, Byron bit her upper lip—not too hard, but enough to send a sharp sting through her.
“Byron, are you a dog?” Athena hissed, pushing him away with her knee.
But Byron, with his firm grip, caught her knee effortlessly, his large hands easily overpowering her.
“Who is someone else?” he growled in a deep voice. “If you talk nonsense, I won’t care whether you want it or not.”
Athena fell silent, realizing the earlier compromise had been fake—he wasn’t the man she could rely on to be kind. His badness was ingrained in him, and it made her furious to the point of nearly gritting her teeth.
“Get it,” she spat out. “Let go of me. I’ll help you match your clothes.” Byron’s expression softened for a brief moment as he praised her. “Good girl,” he said, before kissing her once more. “I’ll take you on vacation when I’m free. Just you and me.” Athena blinked, caught off guard. A vacation? She thought back to their past together—five years of travels, most of them business trips. Byron always went on family vacations, never with her. “Let’s talk about it later,” she said quietly, knowing deep down that by the time that day came, she would have left before her pregnancy was too obvious. She quickly escaped his embrace, relieved to finally have some space to breathe. Absent-mindedly, she hung up the shirt Byron planned to wear, carefully adjusted his tie, and picked up the cufflinks. As her eyes caught sight of the cufflinks—much more expensive than the ones she had once given Byron—a wave of sadness washed over her. He probably didn’t even realize he had lost the one she gave him. Before she could dwell further on her thoughts, she felt a presence behind her. Byron’s tall figure loomed, and in an instant, he wrapped his arms around her again. “What are you looking at? You’re engrossed,” Byron said, glancing at the cufflinks. “Nothing,” Athena replied quickly, turning to face him and stuffing the shirt into his hands. “Mr. Crawford, change your clothes.” Byron frowned, his gaze shifting back to her. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so annoyed in the morning?” “I’m not!” Athena snapped back. “Mr. Crawford, you’ll just have to get used to the fact that I have a bad temper.” Byron’s eyes burned with frustration. When had he ever lowered himself to coax someone in such a tone? He had done everything for her, yet here she was, still dissatisfied. “Don’t go, help me wear it!” Byron ordered, a sharp edge to his voice. With a loud bang, Byron slammed the door to the cloakroom, trapping them both inside. The small room felt even more cramped now, filled with Byron’s suitcase and the piles of luxury accessories he had ordered from the store the day before for Athena. The space was stifling, and the tension in the air was thick.