He didn’t kiss her lips but instead pressed his lips to the corner of her eyes, licked her earlobe, and kissed deeply under her jawline.

“Ah.”

Cecilia gasped in surprise.

His hand moved to her chest, gently squeezing over her clothes.

His lips touched her exposed collarbone, then trailed downward to kiss the hollow between her breasts.

His hand fumbled along the front of her dress, as if searching for buttons.

It seemed like he was trying to undress her.

“The back. It’s sewn shut.”

Cecilia whispered softly, her voice barely audible even to herself.

She didn’t have the courage to repeat herself if he hadn’t heard.

His hand paused briefly.

Then, as his hand moved to her waist, the sound of ripping stitches filled the room.

The tough thread that required scissors to cut was easily torn by his grip.

Cecilia felt her body lifted, the world tilting as he carried her.

This time, he seemed to be in a hurry.

Her body swayed lightly in his arms as he strode forward.

Cecilia closed her eyes. She felt dizzy, as if she had been drinking.

The door to the bedroom opened, and the warm air from within spilled into the relatively cooler sitting room. Russell stepped inside and silently closed the door behind him.

He instinctively knew this heat between them couldn’t be allowed to cool.

Yet, he didn’t head straight to the bed.

Instead, he adjusted his hold so that they were facing each other. With one hand supporting the back of her neck, he kissed her.

He didn’t usually like sweet things, but the sweetness of her lips was addictive. It was sweet, tart, and soft.

The sensations of taste and touch blended together. He felt as if all his senses were focused solely on her.

When his lips touched her cheeks and the edge of her ear, her silky skin was unmistakably soft. Her skin was so delicate that he worried it wouldn’t withstand the harsh winter winds of Lagos.

His desire grew stronger. He didn’t just want to taste her lips—he wanted to explore her entire body.

First, though, he needed to remove the obstacles in his way.

Russell wasn’t familiar with the structure of continental noblewomen’s dresses. When he first saw such dresses, he had wondered how they maintained their voluminous skirts without any visible buttons. It turned out they were sewn.

In Lagos, no one sewed themselves into their clothes. If wet clothes weren’t removed quickly in winter, one could freeze to death. Thus, practicality was essential.

Still, Russell was quick to adapt.

If it was sewn, then it just needed to be torn.

Grabbing the fabric along her back and waist, where he had already ripped part of the stitches earlier, he applied more pressure. The stitches down her back unraveled, and the upper half of her dress slipped down.

The rest was easy.

Cecilia, now left in her thin undergarments, was barely aware of her state.

The warmth of the bedroom and the intensity of their kiss had consumed her focus.

‘It’s different…’

His kiss was different from the first time.

Back then, it had been aggressive.

Now, he was skillfully seducing her, kissing her deeply while gently caressing her face.

Before she knew it, she felt her back sink into the soft mattress.

Earlier, she had left all the curtains open to watch the snowfall, and the moonlight streaming in kept the room from being dark.

It was as if a small lamp had been lit.

Opening her eyes slightly, she saw him kneeling on the bed, his upper body illuminated.

His jacket and vest were already off, and he was unbuttoning his shirt.

The moonlight accentuated the shadows of the firm muscles on his chest and abdomen.

It was the first time Cecilia had seen a man’s well-trained bare body up close.

She stared at his face as he leaned in closer.

Her heart raced so loudly that she irrationally worried he might hear it.

“Why…”

He paused, his face so close their noses almost touched.

“You’re not saying anything?”

After a moment of silence, she murmured,

“It’s not that I won’t. I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t think.”

Before she could say anything more, he covered her lips with his.

He was using all his willpower not to rush, trying to control his growing desire.

Even that effort was enough to overwhelm his mind.