Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 145: Sleep With Me

Keane Lowell closed his eyes to enjoy.

The girl’s every move was exceptionally precise, striking his sore spots directly. Her delicate technique was as smooth as flowing water, inch by inch taking away his fatigue, and the effect was immediate.

At this moment.

He truly experienced the benefits of having a girlfriend who’s a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner.

After half an hour, it was over.

"Alright, get up and move around a bit to see."

Claire Prescott lifted her hands covered in essential oil, sat in front of him to rest briefly, and silently watched as he slowly climbed out of bed. The lines of his muscles occasionally emerged in her view.

Her gaze lingered, quietly observing, somewhat unable to look away.

Gradually.

She came to her senses.

As her eyes lifted, she collided with the man’s direct gaze.

The deep ink-black pupils seemed able to see through everything, and a blush spread across Claire Prescott’s clean and fresh face.

Keane Lowell curved his lips and asked, "Do you like what you see?"

The uniquely magnetic voice emerged, and Claire Prescott’s face seemed to redden even more.

She hurriedly avoided his gaze, seemingly at a loss throughout her whole body, and promptly turned her head to hide in the bathroom.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she slowly breathed a sigh of relief, then turned on the faucet, squeezed some handwash, and washed her hands.

The image was too tempting, so much so that it still flashed in her mind.

As she dried her hands, the man’s figure appeared in the mirror, and she watched him walk towards her shirtless, bit by bit embracing her from behind.

The red side of her face immediately received a kiss from him.

"You like my smell, like when I help you shower, and you like my abs, right?"

The deep, seductive voice rang beside her ear. She felt as if her whole body was embedded in his tenderness and affection, drowning, and almost unable to breathe.

Claire Prescott lowered her gaze, not daring to look at him in the mirror.

However, the man turned her body, pressed her against the sink, demanding she face him.

Claire Prescott raised her eyes, defiantly meeting those deep eyes, "So what if I like it. Feeling comfortable, then you start teasing me."

Keane Lowell’s eyes deepened with laughter.

The smell and shower were things she had said after drinking, which she clearly remembered, so she understood the meaning behind his words.

But what she didn’t know was that, unknowingly, she had made someone locked in a shrine restless and longing for her all night.

He continued to ask, "Want to touch but don’t dare?"

The next moment, a crafty glint flashed in the girl’s eyes, as she pressed her round fingertip against his abdomen, defiantly saying, "Who says I don’t dare."

The skin was exceptionally warm.

She naturally liked the solid feel.

Except.

The man was somewhat bad, deliberately using reverse psychology on her. At this moment, she could see that he wanted to kiss.

Sure enough, he caught her finger and bent down to kiss her.

Claire Prescott naturally tilted her head to receive it, undoubtedly addicted to him.

His technique made her feel very comfortable, his warmth made her feel secure. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have missed him so much after five days without seeing him.

Keane Lowell’s hand reached to her back, pinching her zipper down bit by bit, causing the white dress to loosen and hang momentarily on her body.

As he undid her bra clasp. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Claire Prescott regained a hint of rationality, pulling away from his lips, "Still... still better take a proper rest, it’s not good for the body."

Keane Lowell pressed her waist towards himself, and Claire Prescott clearly felt it, then the man bit her ear, whispering something that made her face flushed hot.

She instantly blushed, "I want to be on the bed."

Keane Lowell curved his lips and carried her back to the bedroom...

...

Afterwards.

Keane Lowell held her in his arms, his voice low and magnetic, "Sleep with me for a while."

As the words fell.

The man almost slept instantly.

Claire Prescott, awake, lay in his arms, recalling just now.

The primal, wild possession easily made one mistake the initial gentleness as merely a trap to lure her into surrender.

So many times, she thought she was already accustomed to his rhythm.

But what happened just now was unexpected.

Instead, it made her somewhat unable to grasp or see through him, even suspecting something was off about him.

The man’s embrace almost made her unable to breathe, the world seemed silent, as if only they remained, their heartbeats fiercely striking each other.

She quietly observed his sleeping eyes.

Every time she woke up, she always liked to admire his sleeping face because once asleep, he had no aura, just a top-tier, divine face—refined, handsome, like meticulously crafted by God, with an unapproachable beauty, never tiring to behold.

She could gaze at him confidently and boldly, without worrying about being noticed, without him discovering her infatuated look.

But.

As time with him seemed to grow longer, he could easily capture and analyze her actions and desires.

Those gentle, charming eyes could effortlessly discern her impurity when looking at her.

Yet.

The man didn’t find it wrong; he seemed to prefer her that way, even indulging and fostering her little thoughts.

It’s truly hard not to like him.

Thus.

She watched him intently, listening to the rhythm of his breathing, until the light and shadow on the window curtains gradually dimmed and night quietly descended.

Keane Lowell opened his eyes to see her clear, fair face, silent and particularly well-behaved.

In his life, rationality had always been predominant, but since the moment he met her, it began silently deviating from his original path.

Yearning for a person and indulging in emotions was something he never imagined would happen.

After a few seconds of eye contact, Keane Lowell raised his lips, his voice warm and deep, "How long have you been watching me?"

Claire Prescott lowered her eyes, "I haven’t been watching you."

She sat up from the bed, covered by the quilt, her bare, snowy-white shoulders exposed to the air, her face faintly tinted with warmth, her long black hair messily draped, possessing a static beauty.

Seemingly somewhat at a loss, she looked distantly at the clothes scattered on the floor, suddenly lying back down, telling him, "You first."

The next moment.

The man directly scooped her from the bed and steadily carried her to the bathroom.

...

Last night was the earliest she had slept in recent times, so when she went to work the next day, she was particularly energetic.

Just like always, she routinely attended consultations, passing today and tomorrow in ordinary fashion.

Wednesday.

Because the herbs that needed processing in the medical center were all crushed by the bodyguard brother, he spent the whole day idle, wandering aimlessly around the medical center.

Just as he stepped out of the medical center, he unexpectedly encountered Old Mrs. Lowell stepping out of the car.

Though old and faded, she had a particularly steady aura, dressed exquisitely and magnificently from head to toe, clearly well-prepared.