บททั้งหมดของ Taming The Charming Director: บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

Arnav responded without hesitation to the silent plea in his wife's body gestures. He attempted to resume the game that had momentarily ended. His hands never once leaving the curve of her chest. Instead, they moved with increasing confidence like kneading, teasing, fingers circling her sensitive peak before giving it a firm, deliberate twist that drew a breathless gasp from Raellyn’s lips. Her back arched helplessly, both seeking and recoiling from the overwhelming sensation he was so expertly conjuring.Without breaking contact, Arnav leaned forward to capture her mouth in his, claiming her with a kiss that was both deep and consuming. Their lips moved in perfect rhythm, urgent, demanding, needy. Raellyn whimpered softly against him, her hands instinctively reaching to clutch his arms, her nails grazing against his skin as if anchoring herself to reality.The weight of Arnav’s body over her, the heat of his mouth, the deft skill of his touch. It was all too much and yet never enough

Raellyn didn’t dignify the question with a verbal response.Instead, she slowly raised one hand, her middle finger standing tall and unbothered in the air before turning her back to him with exaggerated calm. Her hips swayed slightly as she moved away, and though she didn’t look back.It took Raellyn no more than fifteen minutes to clean herself up.When she stepped out of the bathroom, her skin still warm, droplets of water clinging to her collarbone. She found Arnav already seated at the edge of the bed. His posture was relaxed, but his gaze was fixed on the glowing screen of his phone, fingers moving with a steady rhythm. It was impossible to tell what he was so focused on, messages, schedules, production notes perhaps. Whatever it was, it had completely claimed his attention.Some things, she mused, truly never changed.Even after everything they had just done. After the intensity, the sweat, the intimacy. He could still switch so effortlessly into work mode, as if the world outsi

"Why do we always end up in bed whenever we're supposed to be having a serious conversation? Is that one of your fetishes?" Raellyn asked coldly, stepping away from her husband.She had already taken her second shower, now fully dressed with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The distance she maintained was intentional, a barrier between her and the man who had once again crossed the line just moments ago.Raellyn knew herself far too well. She was painfully aware of how powerless she became whenever she fell into Arnav’s trap. How easily her will melted at his touch. So this time, her decision to keep her distance wasn’t just an act of defiance. It was a form of self-preservation.She didn’t want another round of passion. She didn’t want him to blur the lines again. What she wanted desperately was a real conversation. A serious one. Just once.“No, it’s not like that,” Arnav replied plainly. “It’s just… you become twice as irresistible when you’re being serious, especially when

"Raellyn, your body’s burning up. How could you let yourself get like this?""I just had a slight headache earlier. It’s nothing, really," she replied softly.Without wasting a second, Arnav moved swiftly toward the medicine box kept in their room, returning with a tablet in hand and offering it to her."At least take this to bring the fever down. Tomorrow morning, we're going to the doctor. No arguments.""I'm sleepy… It’s just a bit of warmth. Nothing serious," Raellyn murmured, choosing to slip back into her slumber, leaving Arnav alone with the weight of reality.Knowing too well that forcing her would be useless. Especially when it came to his stubborn wife and with fatigue dragging him down, Arnav gave in to her wishes. He slowly lowered himself onto the bed beside her, wrapping one arm gently around her, his hand moving in soothing motions along her back. With quiet tenderness, he guided her head onto his chest, letting his fingers drift through her hair, and in that silent, in

Arnav’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. The kind of tone that could silence a room and leave no room for argument. It was the voice of a man accustomed to control, now unraveling in real time. Staff members exchanged uneasy glances, no one daring to step in. The tension in the hallway felt like it could burst through the walls.Arnav’s presence was magnetic and intimidating. Shoulders squared, fists clenched, eyes blazing with a fury born of fear. No one, not even the senior nurse, dared to meet his gaze.That was, until a female nurse from the examination room gently pushed the door open and stepped out. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t speak loudly. She simply walked toward Arnav, her presence calm like the eye of a storm. Without a word, she reached out and lightly touched his arm, a gesture so soft, it startled him more than all the sharp commands earlier.“Sir,” she said with a practiced kindness, the kind that had seen years of panicked husbands and grieving sons. “I understa