"Uncle Ethan... please..." she gasped, her voice catching as she curled into his embrace.
Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. Her obedience always thrilled him, and her breathless pleas only added fuel to the fire.
It was a dynamic he relished. He loved when she called him that both in and outside the bedroom. It served as a reminder as well as a way to spice up their intimacy. Nyla always found herself with no choice but to address him that, embarrassed and annoyed.
Two weeks apart had only heightened Ethan's need for her. His business trip had been long, and he'd missed her body. Despite having had sex with Nyla many times, he still found her body irresistibly attractive. He naturally wouldn't settle for one round.
Sensing his desire, Nyla moved against him, her lithe body swaying as she sought to meet his needs.
"Being so eager tonight, aren't you?" Ethan murmured, his tone laced with amusement.
"Don't you like it when I'm eager?" Nyla whispered, her voice coy yet tinged with boldness. "Uncle Ethan... it's been a while since we tried something new."
He arched a brow, his grip tightening on her waist as he shifted their positions with ease. The hunger in his eyes was undeniable.
"Then don't disappoint me," he said, his voice thick with authority.
Nyla swallowed hard, her face turned away as she braced herself, determined to please him. She had a favor to ask tonight, and she knew Ethan wasn't the type to grant requests freely.
By the time their fevered exchange finally finished, the early hours of morning had crept in. Nyla lay tangled in the sheets, her skin marked with faint impressions of their passion, the cool air biting at her exposed legs.
She propped herself up as Ethan emerged from the bathroom moments later, his lean frame illuminated by the pale light. Droplets of water clung to his chest and slid down his chiseled abs, leaving little to the imagination.
He lit a cigarette, settling into the armchair by the window, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "What is it you want?" he asked, exhaling a plume of smoke, his tone casual but sharp.
"Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face.
"Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly.
"I want to be Mrs. Brooks."
The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine.
Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. He crushed the cigarette into the ashtray with deliberate force, as if snuffing out her boldness. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?"
Nyla bit her lip, her hands trembling as she clenched the sheets. "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?"
Callie Higgins-the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love-the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right.
Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well.
"I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I-"
"Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?"
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