“What tis it?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
The memories of the previous night made her cheeks flush slightly.
“It's twelve.
Twelve o'clock?
She had slept until noon?
Tilda could hardly believe it.
As she shifted her body, attempting to speak, a rumbling sound from her stomach interrupted her thoughts.
She paused, instinctively looking at her stomach, and realized that the sound wasn’t coming from her, but from
someone else.
Tilda turned her head and saw Lyndon’s slightly embarrassed expression.
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Was he... hungry?
Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Are you hungry?”
Lyndon cleared his throat.
“Well, if you had slept in any longer, | might have fainted from hunger”
Tilda was at a loss for words.
So, while she slept until now, he stayed with her in bed, acting as her pillow, skipping both breakfast and lunch?
Amused and touched, Tilda softened her tone.
“I'm awake now.
You can go.
Lyndon responded with a hum, his eyes darkening as he glanced at her exposed skin before getting out of bed.
“Ill fetch you sclothes.
Tilda murmured in acknowledgment, nestling back under the blanket and waiting for his return.
The fabric carried a faint trace of his scent, and she couldn't resist a light sniff, a smile playing on her lips.
Moments later, Lyndon returned,
holding her undergarm@ntant’
I
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Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm“| picked your underwear at random.
Did | get it right?” he asked, placing
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Tilda sat up, pulling the blanket around herself for modesty.
She glanced at the conspicuous black underwear and nodded.
“You got it right.
Her undergarments all hailed from a
boutique of a spegific anid. The
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