The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride
Chapter 1845

Chapter 1845

She had steeled herself, trying to give her past its due, to bring some semblance of balance to her heart.

But now, with Morrison like this, she couldn't tell if his actions were simply erasing his past misdeeds, or if her heart was too soft—ready to forgive him unconditionally, just because it was Morrison.

Yes. She couldn't bear it.

This was her life now. Whatever Morrison did to her in the future was her own doing, because she loved him.

From the start, she was a complete and utter loser.

Her gaze lingered on the half-eaten eggs, the remnants of oatmeal, and sandwiches.d2

How much had he tried to taste? Was she truly "getting back" at him? Why did it feel like she was punishing herself?

She washed the dishes, dried them and put them away, then grabbed her coat from the dining room chair and slipped it on.

Morrison, buttoning up his own jacket, hurried down the stairs.

"Stay inside for a bit. I'll go start the car and get the heater running. When you hear the horn, come out."

Rose said nothing, and Morrison didn't linger. He headed for the front door.

Watching his retreating figure, Rose felt an impulse to chase after him, to embrace him and compromise. She wanted to tell him she didn't care anymore, about anything. She wanted to see his wounds and ask him to never force himself to do such things again.

The impulse grew, snowballing until she actually ran after him. As Morrison was opening the door, he was suddenly gripped from behind in a tight hug. He paused, a chill breeze slipping in as he quickly shut the door and turned to face her.

"What's wrong?"

Rose bit her lip, looking up at him, her eyes trembling. "Morrison, I give up, really. I've been a complete disaster from the start, so I don't care anymore.

"Whatever you do from here on out, whether I'm heartbroken, sad, or disappointed, even if there are things that can't be undone, I accept it. If that day comes, it'll just be my own damn fault. I accept it, because that's my fate.

"So, Morrison, don't force yourself to do things you don't like, don't get hurt, and don't let anything happen to you. I can't stand to see you suffer. I love you, no matter what the outcome, as long as you're still you. I don't want to see you compromising for me."

Her eyes reddened, her words calm yet charged with emotion.

Yes. That was just how pathetic she was. Morrison had completely undone her resolve with just a couple of actions from last night and this morning; all her defenses had crumbled.

She was destined to be nothing more than dust at his feet. To speak up meant admitting total defeat.

Morrison hadn't expected this change of heart from her after last night.

"Morrison, you've won. You've won, but damn it, I love you."

Suddenly, Morrison pulled her close, pinning her against the door. He pressed his forehead against hers, his voice husky. "No, you've won. You've won, I love you, I never thought I'd throw away all my pride for a woman, and yet here I am, enjoying it.

"I'm not forcing myself, you don't know how precious each of your smiles, each satisfied look you give me when you eat what I've cooked, is to me.

"I love seeing you happy, knowing you've enjoyed the food I made. God knows how thrilled and proud that makes me.

"Rose, you haven't lost, I have. I owe you, and yet I find happiness and fulfillment in trying to make amends. I must be madly in love with you, more than you love me.

"I won't let you be sad or let anything irreversible happen again, you're my life, and no one would take their own life lightly. No, they'd be scared.

"So trust me, Rose, you don't have to worry, losing you is like losing my life. Strange, how did I end up loving you so much. Can you tell me why?"

Moved, Rose shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears. "I don't know, I don't know, just like I don't know why I love you so."

Morrison chuckled softly, his usually stern face now mirroring her emotion and tenderness.

"What do we do then?"

Rose could only shake her head.

"Then we'll spend a lifetime searching for that answer, won't we?"

Rose wanted to cry but found herself laughing. "You're always looking to corner me." Even now, he was talking about a lifetime together.

Morrison hugged her tighter, "Yes, keeping you by my side for a lifetime, that's my ultimate goal."

Laughing, Rose reached down and took his hand, which had been wrapped around her waist. Up close, she could see the constellation of small, red burns, and her heart ached even more.

"Let's not go out just yet. I need to put some ointment on those burns."

Morrison glanced down at his hand, then slipped his fingers into his sleeve and pulled out a platinum bracelet.

Rose looked puzzled.

He simply smiled, "I didn't want to get it dirty while cooking."

Rose paused, "How could it get dirty? It would just get some oil on it, and you could wipe it off."

"That's not good enough."

Overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, she still tugged gently at his hand, "Come on, let's get that ointment."

Morrison didn't move, "It doesn't hurt."

Rose frowned sternly, "No you need—mmm..."

Her protest was cut off by his lips sealing hers.

"This way, it'll heal completely."

He paused intermittently, his husky voice whispering in her ear, his warm breath on her cheek, revealing his gentleness and affection.

She barely managed to blink before his next advance overwhelmed her. This time, Morrison clearly wasn't planning on stopping at a mere taste.

Her hands slowly climbed his shoulders, back against the door, head tilted back as she matched his fervor with all she had.

In the vast expanse of the villa, only two souls dwelt, but the sounds of their fervent kisses and breaths mingled with affection were starkly clear in the tranquil space. The temperature was on the rise, and the atmosphere was thick with an intimate warmth that seemed to grow by the minute.

After a while, Morrison pulled back ever so slightly, his gaze locked onto hers with an intensity that felt like it could ignite the very air between them. Finally, he scooped her up in his arms.

"Looks like little Moon will have to wait a bit longer," he murmured.

Rose's cheeks were aflame.

Gently, Morrison set her on the sofa and leaned over her with a tender look. "It has been waiting for days already. What's a few more hours, right?"

Rose was at a loss for words—what could she say?

Morrison watched her for a moment, his voice rough with emotion. "Rose, how can you be so perfect? Everywhere, just stunning."

Perhaps Rose understood his feelings at that moment because sometimes she felt the same. "I've always been preparing, trying to be the best version of myself, always ready to give myself to you."

He paused, his body leaning in closer.

Rose could feel the tension in the air. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red, and she bit her lip, too shy to meet his gaze.

Morrison's nose brushed against her cheek, his voice almost a husky whisper. "Just hearing you say that makes me want you even more. Can't you see how you affect me?"

"I hate to pass the blame, but there's really only you who can do this to me." he continued, his breath warm against her skin.

Rose, nervously gripping his shoulders, turned her head away, her face a portrait of blush and bashfulness.

"If I had known you were mine all along, why would I have bothered hiding and doing that sort of thing?" His voice was low, almost a murmur, but they were so close that Rose could hear every word clearly.

Driven by curiosity more than embarrassment, she turned to him with a puzzled look. "What did you just say? What were you hiding and doing?"

Though she asked, a wave of shyness washed over her. She had overheard boys at school talk about their private matters and knew well enough what men did when alone. So, she had a good idea of what Morrison meant.

Morrison's expression shifted to a shade of discomfort. "It's nothing."

But Rose wouldn't let it go. If they were to be embarrassed, they'd be embarrassed together.

"So you had a girlfriend and still had to resort to giving yourself that kind of relief?"

Morrison's face was a canvas of crimson. "Rose, are you trying to tease me?" he asked, with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Rose shook her head. "Why would I tease you?"

Morrison clenched his jaw. "I take back what I said. Right now, I just want to make you cry out so loud."

Before Rose could react, he silenced all of her thoughts with a kiss.

...

Morrison moved with urgency, and once he was sure Rose was ready, he made up his mind to find release for the desire he could scarcely contain. But just as he was about to act on his intentions, they were interrupted by the persistent doorbell.

Rose's eyes, misty with discontent, blinked suddenly as Morrison let out a stifled groan, his face a storm of frustration.

He propped himself up, yet didn't leave the couch.

Sensing his reluctance, Rose flushed and gently pushed him away. "There's someone at the door."

Morrison's expression was far from pleasant. It was a well-known fact that there were few things more aggravating for a man than being interrupted at such a moment.

But the doorbell rang again, and Rose rose from the couch, hastily adjusting her clothes before heading to the downstairs washroom, her cheeks still burning. The aftermath of such encounters was never easy for either party, but for women, it was often the messier affair.

After collecting herself, Rose emerged to find Morrison sourly pulling on his clothes, his movements betraying his simmering emotions.

She intended to answer the door herself, but Morrison pulled her behind him, protective and still agitated.

"It's chilly by the door. I'll get it," he said, buttoning up his shirt as he moved to greet the visitor.

Rose couldn't help but worry that Morrison might greet the newcomer with a punch rather than a handshake. Cautiously following behind him, she barely caught a glimpse of the visitor before a familiar voice called out.

Suddenly, a small golden figure dashed toward her, clinging to her legs with whines and yelps that mixed happiness with a tinge of grievance.

"Little Moon?" Upon recognizing her pet, Rose exclaimed with joy.

Little Moon's cries turned into excited yaps, its earlier sadness seemingly forgotten.

Rose smiled, feeling a rush of happiness.

Indeed, affection for someone can make any gloom dissipate. Seeing Little Moon so thrilled, her heart lightened. Happiness and sorrow were fleeting. Why not choose simplicity and pure joy?

However, she was so focused on the dog's happiness that she missed the tension at the doorway.

"What are you doing here?!" Morrison's voice was icy, and Rose could practically hear his teeth grinding.

Standing on the porch was Winston, who chuckled softly. "Little Rose didn't come home last night, so I thought I'd check on her. Little Moon missed her too, so I brought him along."

Rose cringed internally. Winston never missed a chance to stir the pot. Was he really looking to get hit again, provoking Morrison like this?

Stepping forward, she took hold of Morrison's arm and said to Winston, "Come in, then."

Winston smiled and stepped forward, only to be blocked by Morrison's imposing frame. He tried to sidestep, but Morrison matched his movements, preventing entry.

Rose sighed softly, "Morrison, Winston is a guest, after all."

Morrison glared at the nonchalant Winston for a long moment before Rose spoke again.

"Morrison."

With evident reluctance, he stepped aside, letting Winston pass but not before pulling Rose close to his side, as if afraid Winston might snatch her away right before his eyes.

Winston entered with a casual grace, hands in his pockets, as Morrison watched his retreating back, wishing he could burn holes through it with his stare.

Morrison gently nudged him, and only then did he tear his gaze away to look down at her for a moment. "If it wasn't for you, I definitely wouldn't have let him in."

Hearing that, Rose felt a mix of emotions.

Below them, little Moon had been following Winston around ever since he walked through the door, circling him incessantly and yapping away.

Morrison frowned, "Brat!"

Rose: "What did you say?"

Morrison cleared his throat, "I think I haven't been very nice to little Moon. I'm trying to figure out how to treat him better."

Rose smirked, "Little Moon, that's the same name as your son's future bride. Just spoil him as if he's your future 'daughter-in-law'."

Morrison thought to himself, "His daughter-in-law, why on earth would it be a dog?!"

"Did you hear that?"

Morrison: "Yes, I heard."

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