All Chapters of Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle: Chapter 71 - Chapter 77

Lyra knew what she was doing, but she couldn't stop. The alcohol had made her bold, doing what she'd always been too much of a pussy to do.Maybe it was entirely the alcohol. Maybe it wasn't. But it didn't stop the burning hunger in her, the throbbing heat in her core. She craved his touch, craved his hands on her… in her.Tyson's gaze lowered to her chest. His eyes traced every curve, every swell, the tip of her nipples like he was trying to memorize every inch of her.A pulse ticked in his jaw and she could also see the fight in his eyes. Like his restraint was warring against the need within him. Like he was calculating—weighing the options, checking the risks. His eyes darkened, something fierce and feral swirling in them. Then, as if the final thread of control snapped, he leaned forward. His hand slipped into her hair from her neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking her head backwards.Pain flared in her scalp softly, but she barely registered it before his mouth descend

*Please don’t go. I need you.*Extreme regret washed over Lyra and she squeezed her eyes shut. Those words kept playing on an infinite loop in her head, tormenting her soul.Her gaze was fixed outside her window. She watched the way people moved in and out of the building, the way they went about their businesses, carrying on with their lives… without having to think about… She exhaled. How many times would she embarrass herself in front of Tyson?Last night, she'd pretended to be asleep when Tyson came home. And even this morning, she'd left very early to avoid running into him. How long would she keep finding herself in situations like this?That night flashed through her mind again and she cringed. Yet the more she thought about it, the more her cheeks burned. She could still remember the way his hands felt on her skin. The heat in her core as he caressed her breasts. Kissed her…For a moment, she wished he didn't leave. She wished he stayed. She wished he didn't hold back.Tyson

Lyra’s lips were still parted minutes after he'd left. She closed her mouth and clicked her tongue. Smug bastard.Her eyes shifted back to the open homepage on her screen—charity organizations that supported burn survivors—and bookmarked two more.Somehow, her focus shifted again.Lyra paused and fanned her burning cheeks with her hands. What did he mean by ‘after that night’? It's not like she'd done anything too drastic. Rolling her eyes, she lifted her cup of coffee and examined it. “Which side did he drink from?” She murmured to herself, tilting the cup and turning it until the light caught the rim from different angles. When she finally found the spot, she placed her lips over it and drank. Her phone buzzed with a new message, snapping her out of the madness. She shook her head. What's wrong with her? Why was she doing this? The message was from Tyson. He'd shared his live location with her. Almost immediately, another message came in. It was a video—It showed Tyson's fa

Lyra stood over a pot of seasoned rice and stirred. She watched the grains absorb the chicken stock while the smell of roasted chicken browning in the oven filled the air.Beside her, May diced bell peppers.Before leaving for work in the morning, she'd told May what to buy. And since Friday was practically a half day, she'd left the office a little earlier because she wanted to cook. Tyson was coming home today.She didn't know what she was doing, or why she was even doing it all. She just told herself that it's because he was coming back from a trip and needed something that felt like home.But the voice in her head called her a liar. Because when did she become responsible for that? If at all, why couldn't May do it alone?Lyra didn't pay much attention to the thoughts in her head. She pushed them aside and checked the chicken in the oven before returning to the rice.May gently pushed the bowl of diced vegetables to her, watching with interest as Lyra poured them into a different