Chapter 1183:

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For several nights in a row, he’d used his “wounds” as the perfect excuse to stay in her room.

The room was dark and quiet, bathed in soft silver light from the moon filtering through the windows. The peaceful glow wrapped around them, warm and intimate.

Norton leaned against the headboard, draped in a loose robe, a book in his hand. Yvonne nestled beside him, adjusting her position delicately to avoid hurting him.

Suddenly, he let out a muffled groan.

She immediately tensed, alarmed. She scrambled to lift the blanket, her voice laced with worry. “Did I touch your wounds? Are you okay?”

Just as her hand reached for the edge of his robe, he caught her wrist. His voice dropped, husky. “No. I’m fine.”

She didn’t look convinced. Her eyes glistened slightly, clouded with concern. “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that to stop me from worrying, right?”

Norton couldn’t help it—a quiet chuckle escaped him.

Then, without warning, he flipped her beneath him in one swift, fluid motion. Yvonne’s eyes widened, stunned. Her mind barely caught up before she felt the weight of him above her.

He leaned down, his breath warm against her ear. A teasing laugh rumbled from his chest. “Actually… I’ve been fine for a while. I just liked the excuse to have you fuss over me.”

Yvonne gasped, then gave him a light punch on the chest. “You tricked me!” Her cheeks flushed a brilliant red as she tried to squirm away, but he didn’t budge.

His arms locked her in place, leaving no room for escape. His voice dropped an octave, laced with heat. “My wounds may be healed, but there are other parts…”

Of me that still need… attention.”

Yvonne’s eyes darted away, flustered.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing her earlobe. “Yvonne,” he whispered, “do you want me?”

Before she could answer, he kissed her—firm and slow, claiming and coaxing. It melted her thoughts. Her hands instinctively reached up to wrap around his neck, drawing him closer.

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His kisses trailed lower, slower, lingering as if he wanted to memorize every inch of her. Clothes slipped away, piece by piece, falling forgotten to the floor.

His touch was deliberate, reverent—like he was holding something rare, something meant to be cherished.

Yvonne clung to him, completely undone by the moment, by him.

In that quiet, sacred space, time seemed to stop. Their breath mingled, hearts syncing to the same rhythm, bodies pressed close in an unspoken vow. Norton gazed at her, his eyes burning with something deeper than desire—something unshakable.

He kissed her forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yvonne… I love you. No one is ever taking you away from me.”

Yvonne responded with a soft nod, arms tightening around his neck. She kissed him, letting her actions speak louder than any words.

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