Willow Crawford walked behind Morgan Ashworth and began to gently massage his shoulders with her delicate hands.
She was a noblewoman, without experience in massage, so Morgan felt her pressure was light. Although it wasn’t particularly comfortable, the gentle force of the young girl’s hands was like a leaf brushing lightly over his heart lake, making him feel both numb and ticklish in an instant.
Morgan Ashworth sat up straight, his Adam’s apple moving up and down twice.
"Master, does my massage feel good?" Willow asked.
Morgan Ashworth, "Not comfortable!"
"Master, shall I rub your temples then?" Willow’s small hands climbed up and rested on his temples to start rubbing.
Morgan grabbed her little hand and pulled her forcefully, directly onto his solid thigh.
Willow looked up at him with her big, black, watery eyes, like a fawn, "Master, what’s wrong? Is Cynthia not serving you well?"
"..." Morgan confird that she was really playing with him.
The young lord of The Western Reaches had said she was a stunning little maid. At the ti, he didn’t think much about it, but now he felt Willow had great "little maid" potential; she was fully capable of the "little maid" role.
Morgan’s voice had turned hoarse, and he frowned, "You’re not serving well at all!"
"Ah, then what should I do, Master? You wouldn’t punish , would you?" Willow trembled with her soft lashes, exuding a charming allure.
Morgan, "Of course, I will punish you, and it will be... a severe punishnt!"
With that, Morgan directly lifted her into his arms and left the study quickly, heading straight to the master bedroom.
He almost kicked the door open, looking impatient, and Willow curled her red lips into a smile.
"Why are you smiling?" Morgan asked displeased, realizing his own impropriety.
Willow wrapped her small hands around his neck, "Nothing, Cynthia just thinks Master is so handso."
After saying that, Willow gave him a firm kiss on his handso cheek.
Morgan tossed her onto his big bed, then leaned over her, "You brazen little maid, daring to seduce your own master!"
Willow pretended to cover her mouth with her hands, looking at him in shock, "Master, how did you see through my intention? I just want to climb onto the master’s dragon bed. Master, will you let succeed?"
Morgan’s stress and frustration from the entire day were soothed by her, and he admitted defeat in his heart. Between the two of them, he never won.
"Then... I’ll have to try you out first, see how well you serve in bed. If you serve well, only then will I make you permanent."
Willow, "Okay, Master, thank you for giving this opportunity. I will definitely show my best."
Morgan lowered his head to kiss her red lips.
But Willow turned her head, avoiding the kiss.
Morgan looked at her, "What, still playing hard to get?"
"Master, you haven’t bathed yet, have a bath first. I’ll go run the bathwater for you," Willow thought to herself that if they’re going to act, they should do it thoroughly.
Morgan did not refuse. They had been apart for five years; five years ago, both were young, and hadn’t truly dated for long. Now she attended to him so diligently, bringing playful dynamics into the mix—a gesture no man would reject.
Morgan released her.
Willow jumped off the bed and went into the shower.
...
In the shower, Willow ran the bathwater and touched her own face, which was red and hot. In fact, she had gathered enough courage to act like this; after all, he was very angry, and she had to calm him down.
Willow turned to grab sothing, but the next mont, she bumped into a well-built chest.
Morgan had arrived at so unknown ti, standing silently behind her.
Ah!
Willow bumped her forehead into his chest, it hurt, and she cried out.
"Already calling out?" Morgan gazed intensely at her, his gaze as deep and fiery.
"..." Willow felt like she was lting under his stare. She blushed and said, "Master, let fetch you so clothes."
Morgan blocked her path and placed her hand onto his shirt buttons, "Help undress; I need to bathe."
Help him... undress?
Willow was taken aback.
"Weren’t you bold just a mont ago? Now you’re backing down and acting like a turtle retreating into its shell?" Morgan mocked her.
Willow was embarrassed; facing him and his bold words felt awkward!
"I’m not a turtle; I’ll help you undress now." Willow began to unbutton his shirt.
She was too anxious, eager to undo his buttons, but the buttons just wouldn’t co undone. Willow’s actions were hurried and clumsy, pulling at the buttons.
But instead of unbuttoning them, she pulled her own little hand red.
Ha.
Morgan let out a low, amused chuckle from deep in his throat.
Willow wished she could find a hole to hide in. She let go of the buttons, still holding onto the small fists, and punched him firmly, "You undress yourself; both you and your clothes bully !"
Her half-pout, half-coquette appearance was so beautiful, intoxicating. Morgan pushed her against the wall.
Willow’s back hit the cold wall, hurting a bit. She looked at Morgan in front of her as he approached, unbuttoning his shirt with his hand. Those unruly buttons obediently popped open under his nimble fingers; he had already undone three.
Below his protruding Adam’s apple was the refined, sexy collarbone of a man. He was the type that looked lean in clothes, muscular without them. The hint of his firm chest beneath his shirt made Willow want to back away.
When it’s impossible to retreat any further, she could only claw at the wall with her small hands.
At this mont, her view dimd as Morgan moved over her.
"Bla my shirt buttons when you can’t undo them yourself? Truly cannot rely on you to serve , my little princess Willow." He kissed her red lips.
Willow’s legs went soft, turning into a puddle, not knowing if it was his hoarse, loving murmurs or his handso features up close that entranced her.
Pleasures of the senses and desires of the flesh seemingly conquer her as well.
Willow reached out to wrap his firm waist, slowly pulling his shirt out from his black trousers.
Morgan cupped her face, starting to kiss her. Throughout these changing years, she’s always been the little princess in his palm.
Sss.
At this mont, Willow let out a painful groan.
"What’s wrong?" Morgan released her.
"You bit , it hurts." Willow complained softly.
Morgan noticed the corner of her lip was indeed peeling. He closed his eyes and kissed her little nose apologetically, "Sorry, I lost control for a mont..."
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