If you listened closely, you could hear muffled, heavy breaths coming from the bathroom.
Victor Morgan's eyes were squeezed shut. He tried not to overthink it, but his hand moved with a rough, urgent motion that seemed to offer his body no relief at all.
For a moment, he couldn't keep his thoughts at bay. Suddenly, an image of Jessie Sterling flashed through his mind—the woman he had just been holding, her small red lips parted as she gasped for breath in front of him.
The moment her dazed, fragile, and helpless expression appeared in his mind, so pitiable it made his heart ache, Victor Morgan couldn't help but let out a low grunt, his hand ceasing its movements.
He braced one hand against the bathroom wall, casually rinsed the other, and let out a deep sigh.
By the time Victor Morgan got into bed, his mind was unusually wired.
He knew the reason for his excitement all too well.
'This is not a good sign.'
