The Villainess Became My Alpha Husband Chapter 57: Elaine Told Me to Sit Carefully

When I woke, I found myself wrapped in Elaine’s arms, held so tightly it felt as if she thought I might disappear the mont she let go. Her long arm was locked around my waist, her body a warm wall against my back, her breath brushing the top of my head in slow, steady waves. I tried to shift away, but there was no room to move. She had completely pinned, not with force exactly, but with a certainty that made resistance feel pointless.

"Elaine," I whispered, voice rough with sleep, "can you let go of ?" Should I even wake her up?

For a second, she didn’t answer.

Then her hold tightened, not painfully, but possessively enough that I froze. Her voice ca husky and low, still heavy with sleep. "Are you awake, Alexander?"

I swallowed. "Unfortunately, yes."

That earned a quiet exhale from her, almost a laugh. Before I could say anything else, she dipped her face to my nape and nuzzled there, slow and unhurried. A shiver ran down my spine, and an embarrassing sound caught in my throat before I could stop it.

Elaine stilled.

I shut my eyes for a second. "Don’t do that."

"Do what?"

"You know exactly what."

Her mouth curved faintly against my neck. "You are very sensitive this morning."

"I am trying very hard not to be, but after getting fucked by you... I am very sensitive."

That made her finally loosen her grip enough for to turn in her arms. The mont I did, I noticed the shirt I was wearing — a large white one, soft and obviously hers. It swallowed half my fra, the collar loose at my throat, the fabric falling over in a way that felt strangely intimate.

I touched it cautiously. "Is this yours?" Why am I wearing her clothes? It didn’t make any sense for her to do this.

"Yes."

"Why am I wearing it?"

Elaine’s gaze flicked over , calm and unreadable. "Because your clothes were not comfortable enough for sleep."

My cheeks ward. "That’s not what I asked." Why was she dodging the real question?

"No," she said, "but it is the answer."

I looked down at the shirt again, then back up at her. "You told not to touch your clothes before."

A pause.

Elaine’s expression shifted, the smallest crack in her composure. She drew in a slow breath, then turned toward her with one careful movent. The motion reminded too sharply of last night, and a pulse of soreness made my eyes sting. I inhaled sharply, lips parting before I could hide it.

Elaine’s face softened imdiately.

"I’m sorry," she said, quieter now. "For this. And for before." Her thumb brushed lightly against my cheek. "I shouldn’t have shouted at you over sothing so small."

I looked into her eyes and found no sarcasm there, no teasing. Just an earnestness that was almost more disarming than desire.

"...Okay," I muttered, turning my face away because hers was too close and my own felt far too warm. "I understand."

Her fingers combed back a loose strand of hair from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear with almost infuriating gentleness. "Does it hurt badly?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. You were not exactly gentle."

Elaine’s mouth twitched. "Wasn’t I?"

I shot her a glare, though it lacked much strength. "No. And stop smiling like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you’re enjoying my misery."

"Maybe I am."

"Elaine."

She gave a faint, unapologetic smile. "All right. I’m sorry."

The apology sounded far too pleased to be truly innocent, and I was still deciding whether to be offended when she leaned in and kissed .

It was slower than before, but no less devastating.

Her hand slid to my jaw, tilting my face up just enough that I had no choice but to et her properly. The kiss deepened with maddening patience, warm and deliberate, like she was trying to coax every last thought out of my head one at a ti.

I stiffened at first, caught off guard by the certainty of her, but that only made her gentler. Her thumb stroked once along my cheek, and the kiss lingered, unhurried, as though she had all the ti in the world.

My breath faltered.

Elaine must have felt it, because the faintest sound of satisfaction escaped her mouth against mine. It was not loud, not smug, just enough to make my face burn. I tried to pull back, but her hand stayed at my jaw, steady and patient, as if she intended to keep there until I rembered how to breathe.

When she finally released , it was only because I was out of air.

I inhaled sharply, chest rising too fast, and imdiately regretted how unsteady I sounded. Elaine was looking at with infuriating calm, her forehead nearly touching mine.

"You forget yourself when you’re kissed," she murmured.

"That’s because you do it without warning."

"And if I warned you?"

"I’d still be annoyed."

Her lips curved. "Liar."

She shifted upright and, with maddening ease, pulled into her lap. The movent made gasp again, because the soreness in my body flared the instant I sat down. I clenched my teeth, gripping her shoulder for balance.

Elaine noticed at once. "Too much?"

I hated that she could hear the strain in my voice. "A little."

Her hand slid to my back, steadying . "Then sit carefully."

"That sounds suspiciously like an order."

"It is an instruction."

I huffed under my breath, though I didn’t move away.

Elaine looked down at , then brushed her thumb once over my lower lip, almost absentmindedly. "You’re still pale."

"I’ve noticed."

"You need to rest."

"I am resting."

"Alexander."

I stared at her. "What?"

"Should I draw you a bath?"

My shoulders tensed at once. "No."

Her brow lifted. "Why not?"

"Because I can bathe myself."

Elaine’s gaze stayed on mine, steady and difficult to read. "You are hurt."

"I am not helpless."

"I did not say you were."

"That’s what it sounds like."

She let out a quiet breath, then tilted her head slightly. "You are badly wounded, stubborn, and still trying to argue with from my lap."

I glared. "You make that sound ridiculous."

"It is ridiculous."

I opened my mouth, but she continued before I could interrupt.

"And yet I still asked."

That shut up.

For a second neither of us spoke. The room felt warm, the sheets tangled around us, the silence thick but not unpleasant. Elaine’s hand rested at my waist now, not gripping, just holding, as if she wanted close without forcing the matter.

At last I said, more quietly, "I don’t want to feel weak."

Sothing subtle changed in her face.

Elaine’s fingers shifted at my back, careful and reassuring. "Then don’t call it weakness."

I frowned slightly.

"Call it recovery," she said. "Call it taking care of what was hurt."

I looked away, but not before she noticed the way my expression softened by a fraction.

"Will you let help?" she asked.

The question was softer than the others. No command in it. No pressure. Just a choice.

I should have said no again.

Instead, I muttered, "...Fine. But only because I don’t want to stand right now."

Elaine’s answering smile was small, warm, and far too pleased. "Of course."

She stood with still in her arms, and though I protested half-heartedly, I quickly gave up. I was too sore, too tired, and too aware of how effortlessly she carried .