Chapter 54: “May I?”

Alia's heart was in a tangled mess. Yet Marcellus seemed oblivious to her shyness. He simply continued his earnest massage, his head lowered in concentration. In a soft voice, he murmured, "Does it ache here the most? Next time, don't wear shoes like these for too long—they'll hurt your feet."

Alia nodded, still silent, her gaze lowering as if she were paying close attention. The fatigue and soreness in her feet from the day began to dissipate, replaced by an unexpected sense of comfort. But inside, her heart was racing, as if a startled deer were leaping wildly within her chest.

"Does this feel better?" Marcellus suddenly asked, lifting his head to meet her gaze. His deep, dark eyes were filled with a sincere gentleness, as though searching for confirmation.

"Yes… much better." Alia nodded hastily, her voice carrying the faintest stammer. She feared that saying anything more might betray the inexplicable shyness and panic brewing in her heart.

She had wanted to stop him from continuing, but the magnetic pull of his deep voice held her still. "You've had a tiring day. Let me help ease the tension," he said, his tone calm and assured, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

His hands remained steady as they massaged her feet, moving with a tender rhythm that felt both soothing and intimate. Slowly, Alia began to relax, leaning against the headboard and surrendering herself to his care.

But as time went on, the atmosphere between them subtly shifted. Marcellus's hands no longer stayed confined to her feet. Gradually, they moved upward, gently pressing against her calves. His motions were slow, almost deliberate, as if giving her time to adjust. Yet each touch left a searing imprint on her skin, a lingering warmth that spread through her entire body.

"What… what are you doing?" Alia's voice trembled. She wanted to stop him, but the words came out without conviction, and even she could hear the hesitation in her tone.

Marcellus didn't reply. Instead, he glanced up at her, his deep gaze filled with a mixture of tenderness and inquiry, silently seeking her permission. His large hands moved further upward, passing her knees and softly kneading the muscles of her thighs. Alia froze momentarily, her body betraying her instincts as an unfamiliar anticipation took root deep within her heart.

His fingers moved with unhurried precision, exploring carefully. Finally, they brushed against the edge of her nightgown, lightly grazing the delicate skin beneath its hem. Alia held her breath, her cheeks flushing crimson with embarrassment. Yet she didn't push him away.

Her mind screamed at her: I am Alia, not Livia. I can't let this happen! But her body refused to heed her reason.

"Marcellus…" she whispered his name, her voice carrying an unidentifiable mixture of emotions.

"I'm here." His low voice was soft, magnetic. His hands paused briefly, as if waiting for her acknowledgment, while his eyes stayed fixed on her face, searching for any hint of rejection.

But Alia didn't refuse. She bit her lip, her lashes fluttering shut as if giving silent consent.

In that instant, Marcellus grew bolder. His hand slid upward, gently caressing the soft curve of her hips. A tingling sensation coursed through Alia's body, making her tremble. Her defenses began to crumble entirely, her resolve melting like snow under the sun's warm gaze.

Whether it was the lingering effect of the wine or the turmoil of emotions over the past few days, Alia no longer felt the urge to resist. A long-suppressed feeling deep inside her finally found its release.

As her thoughts wandered, Marcellus stopped his movements. He reached up to undo the buttons of his sleepwear, letting the fabric fall away to reveal his toned upper body. Under the dim light, his sculpted muscles looked like a masterpiece of craftsmanship, exuding a magnetic allure that was impossible to ignore.

"You…" Alia tried to say something, but her throat felt constricted, and the words wouldn't come out.

Without a word, Marcellus leaned closer, his hands gently pulling down the straps of her nightgown.

In that moment, the room seemed to shrink, their breaths the only sound in the quiet air. Alia felt the coolness of the night on her skin, yet it was Marcellus's warmth that enveloped her entirely. The tension in her body eased, and she surrendered to the conflicting yet sweet emotions sweeping over her—embarrassment, panic, anticipation, and a sense of release.

Suddenly, Marcellus's hand froze. His once bold actions halted abruptly. Leaning in close, his warm breath brushed against her ear. Though his voice was low and husky, it carried an unmistakable trace of uncertainty. He remembered what had happened last time—her rejection and tears.

"May I?" he asked softly.

Alia's heart skipped a beat. She could hear the hesitation in his voice, the restraint, and even a hint of vulnerability. For such a man to reveal this side of himself, her heartstrings couldn't help but be tugged.

Lowering her gaze, she felt the heat spreading across her cheeks. In the faintest whisper, she answered, "…Mm."

That single syllable, barely audible, was all he needed.

Marcellus took a deep breath, as if letting go of the last vestiges of doubt within him. His gaze lingered on her flushed face, his eyes reflecting a swirl of complex emotions—compassion, relief, and something akin to redemption.

Reaching over, he turned off the bedside lamp, and the room plunged into a gentle darkness.

Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windowpanes and carrying with it the rustle of swaying branches. Within the room, the silence was replaced by the rhythmic sound of their breaths and the faint murmurs exchanged between two souls seeking solace in each other.

In the quiet intimacy of the night, the boundary between their tangled emotions blurred. Though their bodies drew closer, their hearts remained cloaked in their own mysteries, each harboring thoughts they couldn't yet share.

And so, in the warmth of his embrace, Alia let go of the weight she'd been carrying, placing her trust in the man who, in this fleeting moment, felt like her one and only refuge.

The storm outside raged on, but within these walls, they sought to mend the fractures of their hearts—if only for a single night. Yet, whether this closeness would draw them together or push them further into the shadows of uncertainty, only time would tell.