Fated love: the unwanted bride Chapter 1523: Really Want Me to Have You?

He stared at her, his gaze deep and impenetrable.

Joan Harry resembled Cora Jorney more, but her eyes and nose were truly reminiscent of Yacob Harry.

Joan Harry could no longer find any excuse. She bit down hard on her lip, nearly drawing blood.

A sudden silence enveloped her ears.

The sound of rain outside poured incessantly, drop by drop, as if hamring against her heart.

Jesse Rowan locked his intense gaze on her, his eyes threaded with crimson veins.

Their gazes collided, and the air grew thick with combustible tension.

At last, Joan Harry lowered her voice. "Where do we do it?"

"I’m not in the mood to move, too tired. Right here will do!"

When Jesse Rowan spoke, he was prepared for her rebuff. Yet she displayed no emotional reaction, rely nodded. "Alright."

So obedient. Truly obedient.

Joan Harry’s fingers moved to the buttons of her clothes.

In contrast, Jesse Rowan made no move at all, his lips curled into a faintly mocking smile. "I said I’m tired, too lazy to lift a finger. So this ti, you’ll handle it yourself."

Joan Harry’s hands froze mid-motion, a flood of indescribable emotions coursing through her limbs, as if a knife twisted relentlessly at her heart, dreading that it might still beat.

But her heart had long since died.

Jesse Rowan’s eyes bore into her, their intensity sharp and rciless.

After an agonizing pause—

Joan Harry began to undress, piece by piece.

And Jesse Rowan, indeed, remained utterly motionless throughout, keeping his penetrating gaze locked on her from start to finish.

Until just as she was nearly—

Jesse Rowan suddenly grabbed her wrist with a force that could shatter bones!

"Ah!" Joan Harry gasped, caught off guard. Her feet slipped, and she tumbled into his arms, knocking her head against his jaw.

Before she could resist, Jesse Rowan clasped her waist, holding her tightly.

His clothes remained impeccably intact, while she... painted a stark, humiliating contrast.

Her small hands pressed against his chest, keeping herself from sliding completely.

Jesse Rowan’s grip was so intense it felt like he wanted to crush her entirely, his gaze cold and piercing, sharp as a blade.

"Miss Harry, are you that impatient? Or perhaps you’re just dying for to have you?"

Joan Harry grit her teeth, her expression as calm as still water. "I’m simply fulfilling my promise."

"Oh dear, I seem to have forgotten. What promise was that? Do say it again."

"Jesse Rowan!"

"Don’t call by my full na. I don’t like it. Call Jesse. Say it."

Joan Harry was thoroughly enraged, her icy glare tinged with a bloody fury. Her eyes sharpened like a lion’s about to pounce, her chest filled with frozen resolve.

There was no way she would say it.

Jesse Rowan read the anger in her eyes and chuckled, pinching her cheek as he leaned in closer.

"What a little woman, so bad at hiding her feelings. Every emotion written all over your face. That’s a terrible habit."

"Can we get started?" Joan Harry didn’t want to engage him in conversation. All he wanted was her body anyway—once she gave him that, he wouldn’t say another word.

"I told you to repeat it. What promise? Speak."

Joan Harry bit her lip until it turned white.

In front of Jesse Rowan, her dignity was nonexistent.

Through clenched teeth, she forced out her reply word by word. "If you have any needs, I will co at your call."

"And then? For what purpose?"

"Don’t push too far."

"Oh, look at that temper. That won’t do. You wouldn’t want to get upset, would you?" Jesse Rowan’s smile was devilish, his voice just as infernal.

His hands roved with wicked intent, their movents calculated and skilled.

From the very first ti he’d taken Joan Harry to bed, this master of seduction had completely unraveled her.