Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 73: Moved by Love 2

She was supposed to apply medicine to him, yet somehow it progressed to her embracing him and kissing him.

But...

She felt herself growing increasingly fond of him.

The initial feelings of affection she had for him were indescribable, but when he clumsily massaged her heart during the car ride, something sweet surged at the tip of her heart, spreading throughout her body.

It seemed as if her affection for him was about to overflow, making her unable to resist wanting to hold him tight and kiss him.

"Mm..." Claire Prescott couldn’t help but whimper.

Keane Lowell released her just at the right time.

Her chin rested on his shoulder as they embraced, and she could hear the sound of her own heart pounding violently, continuously impacting her mind.

She closed her eyes, slowly soothing herself.

As her heartbeat gradually steadied in the silent embrace, the man’s deep, magnetic voice sounded in her ear.

"Can I come in tonight?"

Claire Prescott’s body slightly tensed.

After approximately ten seconds of hesitation, she nodded.

Having received her consent, the man didn’t say much, and held her as he ascended the stairs, one step at a time.

Pushing open the door and turning on the light, his steps were steady.

Keane Lowell removed her shoes and held her, seating her at the edge of the bed.

Claire Prescott’s body was tense, not as relaxed as she was downstairs, her face red like a ripe apple, flushed to the extreme.

Forced to welcome his strong yet gentle kisses.

As he unfastened her hair tie, her long hair fell loose like soft, smooth satin.

Kissing her while guiding her hand, "Help me undo the buttons."

Claire Prescott froze for a moment, pinching the top button of his shirt collar, hesitating to make a move.

Keane Lowell moved to her sensitive spots.

Pressing lightly, she trembled all over, clutching his collar, instinctively letting out a low whimper, her neck reflexively tilted back, forming a graceful curve.

Keane Lowell gazed at her with intense eyes, then kissed her, "Undo it or not?"

His hot breath spilled out, skimming over her skin, causing Claire Prescott to instinctively want to hold onto him, her body softened, unable to muster strength.

Wanting to evade, the man held her tighter, slowly letting her adapt.

"Claire wants it too, right?"

Considering it was her first experience, Keane Lowell didn’t pressure her to take the initiative, reaching back to find the zipper of her dress and slowly pulling it down, then undoing her bra clasp.

Her dress slipped to her waist, she instinctively reached out to cover it.

The man’s gaze fell openly on her snowy curves, not filled with lust, but genuinely complimented, "Beautiful."

Claire Prescott’s face blushed deeply, quickly turning away.

Not daring to look at him, nor wanting to respond, she leaned forward to hug his neck, so he couldn’t see.

"Shall we turn off the lights?" Claire whispered in his ear.

Now completely soft and fragrant in his arms, Keane Lowell had no way to refuse her request or give her a chance to change her mind, so as he lifted her up, he took the opportunity to remove all her clothing, leaving it on the ground.

A "click" turned off the light.

He then turned and pressed her onto the soft bed, his voice gentle in coaxing her, "Relax, I’ll be gentle, just enjoy it."

However.

The kisses that fell on her, as gentle as they were, still made her incredibly sensitive.

Feeling a slight unease inside, yet irresistibly drawn.

The man unbuttoned his shirt single-handedly, removing it and pressing down again.

His skin intimately adhered to hers, while she accepted his kisses, listening to his heartbeat and warmth.

His rough hand moved down along her waistline, leaving her trembling continuously, a crisp cedar scent stayed at her nose, invading her entire consciousness, dreamlike.

"Mm..." Tears welled up in her eyes momentarily.

Outside, moonlight poured in generously, as Keane Lowell, observing her reaction through weak light, eventually stopped, giving her some time to buffer, and turned her over.

Kisses fell densely like raindrops.

Apart from physiological reactions, it felt comfortable and beautiful, her heart itching, unable to resist wanting to grasp something.

However.

When he inadvertently brushed over a scar on her shoulder blade, her body instantly tensed.

Keane Lowell also paused, looking calmly at the lightning-shaped scar through the dimness.

He raised his hand to trace its irregular shape, his voice deep, asking, "When did you get hurt?"

The little girl didn’t respond, quietly turning her back to him, appearing quite off.

Keane Lowell furrowed his brows slightly, suddenly got up and turned on the light, picking her up from the bed and sitting her facing him on his lap.

The sudden brightness made her squint uncomfortably.

Adjusting to the light, her eyes fell on his well-defined lines, along his abdomen up, meeting the man’s dark, intense gaze.

Unavoidable, the man wouldn’t let her escape.

Flustered, she grabbed his shirt with her hand, covering herself stubbornly, looking at him, "Are you disgusted with me?"

"..."

Defeated once again in her hands.

Keane Lowell suddenly pressed her nape, fiercely kissing her lips...

"When have I ever said I was disgusted?"

...

...

Next morning, at the break of dawn.

Claire Prescott woke groggily in Keane Lowell’s arms, exhausted, unable to open her eyes, her lashes half-covered unknowingly, though enveloped in a warm embrace, not wanting to move at all, quietly lying in his arms.

The fragmented, chaotic memories of last night flashed through her mind.

Initially, she couldn’t withstand it, but after a short while, he ceased, gently soothing her, laying her back on the bed.

Restrained, he reached towards the bedside drawer.

To accommodate her first experience, promising not to lose control, but when the man carried her into the bathroom, he immediately forgot those words.

Yet...

Not as painful as she anticipated, as she slowly adapted, feeling overwhelmingly intense, wanting a clearer sense of his presence.

Such feelings, once had, made her want it again...many times...

She usually wakes up naturally at five twenty-five, rarely lounging in bed.

But today, her eyelids felt heavy, unknowingly falling asleep.

When she opened her eyes again, it was empty behind her.

The man was no longer beside her.

Claire Prescott stared at the ceiling, falling into brief silence.

Outside, bright sunshine illuminated the white curtains, and suddenly realizing she overslept, she hurriedly sat up on the bed, quickly getting out towards the bathroom.

However, she wore only a man’s white shirt, barely covering her thighs, her snowy skin exposed to the air, covered with dense kiss marks, embarrassingly avoiding looking at herself.