Untamed のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

The house was eerily quiet when I returned. The only sound was a muffled noise coming from the kitchen area. My heart began to pound. I grabbed a knife from the dining table, my grip tight and sweaty, and crept toward the source of the noise. What I saw made the knife slip from my fingers. It clattered against the floor, but neither of them seemed to hear. Michael stood at the kitchen counter, facing my direction with his eyes closed, completely undressed with his trousers pooled around his ankles, still tangled around his legs. A woman with long hair cascading down her back ,knelt before him, her back facing me, her head moving rhythmically. I couldn't see her features, but I didn't need to. I knew exactly what was happening. I should have walked away. I should have turned and fled to my room and pretended I'd seen nothing. But I was frozen, rooted to the spot, my eyes fixed on the scene before me. Michael's face was angled slightly away, his expression distant, unfocused. His e

Michael's mouth found mine again, and this time, I didn't push back. My hands slid up his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt. He groaned against my lips, his grip on my waist tightening, pulling me flush against him. "Finally," he breathed between kisses. He guided me backward until my legs hit the arm of the couch. We sank down together, the world narrowing to the heat of his body, the demanding pressure of his lips, the way his hands explored the curves of my waist and hips with hungry determination. His shirt came off first, then mine. I barely registered the fabric being tossed aside. His skin against mine was electric, every touch sending sparks through my exhausted, aching body. "Say my name," he commanded, his lips trailing down my throat. "Michael." The word escaped as a whisper, then a moan as his teeth grazed my collarbone. He lifted me effortlessly, positioning me astride his lap. The thin fabric of my shorts was the only barrier between us, and I coul

MICHEAL POV I opened my curtains to let fresh air into the room when I noticed Raquel stretched out on one of the patio chairs, deeply immersed in a book. Her long dark hair gleamed as the sunlight caught it, and I felt the urge to run my fingers through it, to feel its silkiness. She suddenly looked up and smiled at me, her pearly white teeth dazzling. I kept my face straight, and her smile faltered, transforming into a cute little frown that tugged at something deep in my chest. I moved away from the window and sat on my bed, confused by the feelings she stirred in me. She had awakened something no other woman ever had. I wanted to possess her. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't enjoy anyone else's company. Her image flooded my mind constantly—even during intimate moments with others. I had to imagine she was the one beneath me just to find release. I remembered throwing that woman out right after Raquel left the kitchen the other night. I couldn't feel a thing when she w

Michael was wheeled straight into the operating room the moment we arrived at the hospital. With the oxygen mask fixed over his face, he looked terrifyingly lifeless. My heart clenched at the sight. The police were right at my heels, bombarding me with questions, their pens scratching against notepads as they recorded my answers. I tried to focus, to form coherent sentences, but my eyes kept drifting to the corridor leading to the theater, hoping against hope that Michael would survive this ordeal. When I tried to follow him to the surgery room, a nurse stopped me firmly. "Family only." "I am family," I insisted, but she shook her head and guided me back to the waiting area. The officers finally left after what felt like hours, and I sank to the cold hospital floor, my legs no longer able to hold me. Defeat washed over me in heavy waves. This was partially my fault. If anything happened to Michael, I would never forgive myself. I lifted my head at the sound of running footsteps.

The hospital waiting room was crowded, but soon enough, I was called into the consulting room. I froze in the doorway. "Raquel? Is that really you?" The doctor stood, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Eugene?" I blinked, recognizing my junior high school classmate. "Oh my gosh, yes!" "You look great." His gaze lingered a moment too long. I held up my left hand, letting my wedding ring catch the light. "Thank you, but I'm married." He chuckled. "You look too hot for me to care." He winked. I bit back a smile. "Right." "So, what brings you here?" He pulled out a notepad, shifting into professional mode. "I think I have food poisoning." "That's for me to decide." He clicked his pen. "What symptoms are you experiencing?" "Nausea. Dizziness sometimes." "When did it start?" "About three days ago." "Any stomach pain?" "No." "Have you taken anything for it?" "No." He jotted down notes, then tore off a card. "You need a lab test. Come back with the results." I took the