Chapter 162: Terms of Surrender

Summer was both angry and desperate. But she knew she was no match for this man in a battle of wills. So she softened her tone. “Fraser, why are you being like this? You’re interested in me now, but who knows? You might lose interest tomorrow.”

“So eager to leave me!” His lips curled into a mocking smile. “In a hurry to go back to your ex?”

Summer pursed her lips. “I didn’t say that.”

“You want an end date?” Fraser’s handsome face was blank. “Fine. Try to please me tonight, and we’ll talk.”

Summer pressed her lips together, her fingers twisting unconsciously. After a pause, her ears flushed slightly. Through gritted teeth, she said, “If I satisfy you, will you negotiate?”

“Try me.”

His mouth lifted, but his tone was indifferent. “Oh, and I prefer a challenge.”

The blush on Summer’s ears instantly spread across her entire face. Pervert! Even though they’d been intimate before, it had always been under his control. Summer had almost no experience taking the lead.

Fraser lounged on the sofa, his dark eyes fixed on her with undisguised hunger, like a blizzard howling silently through a frozen night. Under that gaze, Summer felt completely exposed, as if she were standing naked in front of him.

Fraser snorted mockingly. “What’s the matter? You were so bold earlier, but now you’re backing down?”

Her hands shook slightly, but she forced out, “I… can do this.”

If it weren’t for the icy tension between them, if it weren’t for their earlier argument… I wouldn’t feel so humiliated. Biting her lip, she slowly walked over and knelt before him. After taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and leaned in, pressing her lips to his.

Fraser’s mouth was cool, slightly tinged with the taste of tobacco. Not unpleasant, but dangerously intoxicating. In the past, a kiss like that would have made him respond immediately. But seconds passed, and he remained still, watching her with cold detachment.

Embarrassment coiled like vines in Summer’s chest. She drew back, instinctively retreating.

“That’s it?” Fraser’s laugh was icy. “Ms. Stewart’s commitment is disappointingly lacking.” His words were a blatant mockery.

Fraser’s eyes darkened. “Take off your clothes?”

Summer froze. Biting her lip, she slowly stood and began to unbutton her blouse with trembling fingers. The emerald lace underneath peeked through as the fabric slipped away. The cold air made her skin tingle.

Fraser watched as the fabric parted, revealing ivory skin glowing in the light, a heady contrast to the dark silk. His throat moved. A searing heat ignited in his gaze, spreading like wildfire as his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “Sit on…”

Summer’s mind went blank. Her pulse roared so loudly she feared it would burst from her throat. “Can… can we turn off the lights?”

In the next second, he was pulling her forward, grabbing her waist and forcing her to straddle his thighs. Summer gasped as she felt him, hand insistent against her. The sensation sent electric shocks through every nerve. Fraser’s last vestige of control shattered. He’d wanted to punish her. But the sight of her trembling broke him. He’d wanted her to take the lead. But in the end, he was the one who could not resist.

Growling, he clenched a hand in her hair and crushed his mouth to hers. A kiss so fierce it felt like annihilation. Summer could only surrender to the onslaught.

Later, she barely registered as he tossed her onto the sofa. The lights stayed on, mercilessly illuminating every inch of her flushed skin. Against the floor-to-ceiling windows, their tangled shadows twisted into silhouettes. Summer bit her lip raw, refusing to make a sound. But Fraser refused to let her hide. He pulled whimpers from her throat, sweet, broken sounds that dissolved into frustrated sobs. She didn’t remember when it ended. Somewhere in the haze of exhaustion, she felt him gently wipe her down before darkness claimed her.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting the quiet…