Chapter 1272

Seeing her shocked, Lysander sneered, his reference to Callum as clear as day.

Thalassa bristled with anger, her eyes shimmering with rage as she shoved at Lysander’s broad shoulders. “I have no clue what you’re spouting!” she snapped, her voice a tempest. The storm in Lysander’s deep-set eyes darkened, his large hand cupping her face so firmly it contorted her features. “You don’t understand?” he growled, his voice a low rumble. “Then let me spell it out for you.”

Without another word, he dipped his head and captured her lips in a fierce, silencing kiss.

“Mmph…” Thalassa’s breath hitched, her hands pushing against his shoulders in vain.

His frame was a fortress of muscle and sinew, immovable.

No amount of shoving on her part could budge him. Instead, her efforts only drained her strength, leaving her limp.

Feeling her resistance wane, Lysander cradled the back of her head, deepening the kiss, claiming with a hunger that left no room for doubt.

fogged from lack of oxygen and the

but his overpowering

asphyxiation or from the heat of his kiss, she

immediately. Instead, he held her close, his face pressed against hers, as if to steady

gasped for air, her lungs

sprawled on top of her, his deep breaths

to find her voice. “The sheets are fresh now. I’m going

knitted, his voice husky as he

loss. “How can I sleep with you lying

hit the hay soon. You might as well book your own room,”

murmured against her neck, rolling off her

moment, Thalassa sat up and glanced back at him before heading for

can just walk away?” Lysander’s voice, dark and resonant,

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