Fake Date, Real Fate
Chapter 92: Heaven in His Mouth, Hell in His Eyes
ISABELLA’S POV
When the high finally broke over me—shattering and deep—I went still in his arms, boneless, trembling, struggling to remember how to breathe.
Adrien didn’t say a word.
He rose slowly and reached behind him.
His pajama shirt.
The oversized one I’d laughed about earlier.
He picked it up and—without hesitation—draped it over me.
Before I could speak, before I could even blink, he slipped one arm under my knees and the other behind my back, lifting me in one fluid motion.
Princess style.
I gasped, clutching at his chest. My palms landed flat against bare skin—warm, solid muscle beneath my fingers.
And just like that, I was blushing.
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