Chapter 430 A Secret Kept Too Long

Wyatt gently pushed up the hem of Yunice’s silk nightdress, letting it gather just above the backs of her knees.

It was a masterfully chosen spot–nothing overtly indecent, yet enough to stir the imagination.

He pulled his gaze away, picked up the elegant bottle, warmed some massage oil between his hands, and began working it into her calves.

Yunice’s body tensed slightly. She couldn’t see what Wyatt was doing behind her–couldn’t guess his next move. That vulnerability only made every sensation more intense.

His hands moved steadily, kneading up her calves before easing back down when he felt her tighten.

It was a calculated rhythm–testing boundaries.

By the time she realized his hands were sliding too close under the hem of her nightdress, it was already too late. The sheets rustled as she abruptly lifted herself and pressed a hand against his wandering fingers.

Wyatt lifted his gaze, desire simmering quietly in his eyes.

And yet, even with everything unspoken, it never felt invasive.

Yunice’s face was flushed, warmth blooming from her cheeks down to her neck and collarbones. Her breathing was uneven, shallow–like she was suppressing something.

After a few seconds of silent eye contact, her voice came out husky. “Is that real massage oil you’re using?”

Wyatt chuckled. “You think it’s not?”

He held up the bottle, amused. “Bought it from a legit shop. No funny business inside.”

Yunice pursed her lips. “You hot?”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Want me to cool you down?”

She gave a quiet “mm,” expecting him to grab an ice pack or maybe a cold towel.

Instead, he leaned over her, loosening her robe.

“My body’s pretty cool,” he whispered as he pulled her into his arms.

Cool? She could’ve screamed. He’s burning up!

And whatever was pressing into her from the waistband area–it hurt.

Still holding her close, he murmured at her ear, “I’m turning off the lights.”

Yunice didn’t respond. She didn’t move either.

Taking her silence as permission, Wyatt switched off the lights.

In the dark came Yunice’s muffled gasp. Wyatt took his time, clearly determined to show his skill–and make sure she felt every second of it.

In the faint light that remained, he lifted his head and saw her biting her lip hard, both hands gripping the corners of the pillow in a white–knuckled hold.

He reached up to free her lip. “Don’t bite.”

Because if she didn’t bite, the sounds might be… hard to ignore.

He pulled her hands away from the pillow and wrapped them around his neck. His voice dropped. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”

Her suppressed breaths broke into fragile, trembling sounds…

After more than ten minutes, when he finally moved to the heart of things, Wyatt suddenly paused.

Then he said quietly, “I’m turning the light on.”

Yunice curled inward, tense, but she didn’t stop him.

He pulled a thin blanket over her, shielding her before switching on the light.

She lay still, eyes lowered, not looking at him, not saying a word.

Wyatt’s expression grew complicated. He lifted the blanket a little.

She shrank further into herself, but not before a soft flush of pink bloomed visibly against the white sheets.

His first instinct was that she’d started her period.

But no–that didn’t track. He’d counted carefully. It wasn’t the right time.

And the moment he recalled that strange resistance earlier, realization slowly sank in.

His expression changed–shocked, confused, layered with emotion.

Finally, he asked in a low, uncertain voice, “Was that your first time?”

Nobody would believe Yunice was a virgin.

Her scandal with Paul had been tabloid fuel for months. There had been more than enough signs that their relationship was intimate.

How could anything still be “first” for her?

Yunice clutched the blanket and didn’t answer. Her face was unreadable. Instead, she asked, “Does it matter to you?”

If he wasn’t coming back, she’d just go to sleep.

Wyatt stepped closer. Whatever heat he’d felt earlier was long gone–doused completely by the sight of that pink stain.

He asked again, firmly this time, “Tell me. Was it?”

Her voice stayed calm. “Believe it or don’t. What does it change?”

“It matters,” Wyatt said through gritted teeth, his voice suddenly heavy.

His pupils shook. He stared at her with an expression both bewildered and furious. “If it was your first time, why the hell didn’t you say anything?!”

Yunice lifted her head at last to meet his eyes. She looked just as confused. “You prefer someone with more experience?”

She’d heard of men like that. Men who had a thing for married women.

Seeing his growing frustration, Yunice sat up instinctively, pulling on her robe.

She could tell she’d killed the mood. At the same time, something in her heart turned cold.

She got out of bed. “I’ll sleep in the next room.”

He clearly didn’t want to see her anymore.