Chapter 34 Exclusive Release Chapter 34 His Move...
His movements could hardly be described as gentle.
Before Yuan Ning could react, she had already landed steadily.
Only the waist was restrained during the process, but it was only for a moment.
She had assumed he would simply watch her calmly get out of his car and go home.
After all, he has always been an extremely calm person.
Yuan Ning felt like her whole body was on fire. Her resentment and desire seemed to belong only to herself, not to Elias.
But when she looked up again and sensed his control and tenderness, everything in his eyes changed.
Elias released her waist and placed his hand on her head, his gaze softening yet still menacing.
Yuan Ning was taken aback when she heard his magnetic voice: "My dear Wynne, don't you want to go home, huh?"
He put his arm around her shoulder and waist, pulling her closer to his chest, like he was holding a baby.
In an instant, Yuan Ning's agonizing resentment and emptiness had nowhere to hide. After he saw through everything, he steadily supported her.
His hands were large, one firmly supporting her lower back, while the other rested behind her head, his fingertips gently and slowly combing through her loose black hair. His movements were deliberate and patient, almost indulgent, as if he were soothing her, but more like... teasing her.
Yuan Ning was forced to lean completely against his chest, her nose touching the first button of his shirt. This position made her appear exceptionally petite, completely enveloped by him.
His actions seemed to suggest that he thought he could soothe her, that if he stroked her for a while, she would feel comfortable enough to go home.
Elias is too good at hooking Yuan Ning.
He was unhurried and patient.
This is even more grueling than before.
Yuan Ning had no choice but to admit that she had nowhere to hide her feelings anyway.
"Yeah, I don't want to go home," she said, burying her head even deeper into his arms.
His hand moved to the back of her neck, and Yuan Ning felt his hot breath on her head.
She reached out and hugged his arm, almost telling him outright that she wanted to kiss him.
She just stared at him, and Elias seemed extremely patient.
He seemed to know that he had all the time and control.
Yuan Ning felt like a tiny insect trapped in amber, surrounded by warm yet deadly resin. The "creator" who controlled the flow and temperature of the resin was watching her quietly with a pair of all-knowing blue eyes that seemed to enjoy watching her struggle.
She kissed him, trembling, and hugged his neck tightly.
Elias was forcibly kissed by her, their teeth clashing, and then Yuan Ning pried open his lips and teeth, deliberately running rampant inside his mouth.
This action was performed with ease, which excited Yuan Ning.
She never imagined that her kissing style would be like this, so intense, so intrusive, possessive, invasive, and pleasurable.
Instead of quietly waiting for a gentleman's gentle arrival.
Elias's neck was held so tightly by her that his head bent and drooped into a stiff position.
Any third party witnessing this would assume that the man was being forcibly kissed.
But the man did not try to push the other away; he let the other fight for territory and bite him with a soft touch.
Wynne is a very wild little girl, she always has been.
Barbarians eat meat.
Elias was held tightly around the neck, his head forced to droop, forming a vulnerable angle that was almost sacrificial.
His closed eyelashes drooped quietly, his warm tongue was entangled with hers, even retreating, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down with difficulty.
Yuan Ning was extremely unrestrained, yet she vaguely felt as if she were dancing wildly on a steel wire that was about to snap.
On the verge of catching her breath, she slightly separated from him.
A beautiful silver thread stretched between their lips.
She smacked her lips lightly, panting, her lips red, swollen, and burning.
His thin lips, glistening with moisture from her caresses, remained clear and deep in his icy blue eyes, which even held a hint of a profound, satiated darkness.
Yuan Ning's lips were somewhat numb, and saliva spilled from the corners of her mouth.
He raised his hand, his thumb pressing heavily against her swollen, stinging lips, wiping away the wetness. The movement carried the calm ease of cleaning up after a night of intimacy.
Yuan Ning stared into his even calmer, deeper eyes: "Elijas, you're so hard."
She stayed close to him, and she could sense all of his physical reactions.
Although he remained motionless.
Elias lowered his breathing and remained silent.
It's normal for him to react after she kissed him so passionately and sat on his lap.
As a gentleman, Elias could shut those physiological reactions out of his mind and remained conscious.
Since the girl had pointed it out, he had no choice but to pretend nothing had happened.
He could try to coax her a little more, but tonight's matter had to end here.
But what happened next was clearly beyond his expectations.
Yuan Ning's hand moved from behind his neck to the front, down his chest.
Elias is a very generous gentleman with well-sculpted muscles, but his physique is his least noteworthy advantage.
He grabbed her hand, stopping her from moving.
“This won’t do, Wynne.”
Elias's clothes were all custom-made, each piece perfectly fitting his body, eliminating the need for belts or similar tools to cinch his waist.
She was wearing an ivory-white dress with a similar embroidery design.
Returning from Tuscany, it felt as if even my soul had been touched by the sunshine and romance of Southern Europe.
The top was made of delicate and intricate crochet lace, subtly revealing the soft sheen of her skin beneath, exuding a youthful innocence; the bottom was a layered, high-quality tulle skirt, fluffy like clouds, or like newly blooming gardenia petals. The skirt reached her knees, revealing her slender and straight calves.
Perhaps considering that she would be taking a long flight today, Yuan Ning did not choose to continue going bare-legged, but instead put on a pair of light pink velvet stockings.
She wore a pair of satin mules, with a bow tied at her slender ankle.
She even wore a small mother-of-pearl hair clip in her hair.
She looks like a lazy, innocent, gentle, and non-aggressive young girl.
She clearly understood what to wear for what occasion, and Yuan Ning today was quite different from Yuan Ning yesterday. However, the way she was moving her fingers at this moment was completely inconsistent with her outfit.
Her face remained innocent and naive. He broke free from the last layer of high-end fabric and fell unhindered onto her layered ivory-white gauze skirt.
Then she gazed at him with her innocent dark eyes, and placed her warm hand on his. His emotions were no longer concealed.
She was enveloped in an ivory-white and pale pink halo, the intricate lace outlining the girl's silhouette, and the fluffy gauze skirt resembling a cloud-built altar. Even the tiny pearl on her fingertip shone with a warm and devout light.
Elias was in a daze. He almost felt that his hands should be holding a Bible or lilies, but instead, without hesitation, they held the most primal, fervent, and impure aspects of humanity.
Wynne lacked allure, skill, and even any charm.
Ignorance breeds fearlessness; naivety breeds cruelty.
Elias van der Berg represents order and rules, yet his body becomes the most honest vessel for chaos, instinct, and transgression.
At this moment, the carriage was no longer a carriage, but an inverted temple. She sat on the altar, and his most secret desire became the only burning, real flame on the altar. With the most innocent and naive expression, she touched this flame with her own hands, wondering why it was so hot, why... it burned so intensely only for her.
"Elijas, what's wrong?"
She knew it, of course, but she couldn't yet connect it with Elias's calm and holy face.
"Elijas, why is this happening?"
Yet he was right there in her hands, burning her palm, but she couldn't connect him with her. He was so calm, his breathing never faltering.
He lost control, but the extent of his loss of control was very limited.
She focused on his expression, believing she had control over the animalistic instincts that had sprung from him, but was completely unaware of the extent of her control.
His breathing remained labored and steady, the rise and fall of his chest forcibly suppressed by his powerful willpower.
The pale blue veins on his neck were clearly visible.
He looked at her, at the pure, innocent black lake in her eyes, the bottom of which reflected his most wretched, yet most real, desire at that moment.
He did not answer her naive question.
He simply raised one hand, a hand that trembled slightly, revealing that he was not entirely indifferent, but contained a power powerful enough to destroy everything, and touched her cheek.
He rubbed his fingertips across her delicate cheek skin with a bit of force, then lingered on her soft earlobe, twisting it heavily.
His touch and her actions formed two extremes.
She was fearless in her ignorance, while he ultimately touched her with self-control.
His thumb pressed down on her full lower lip, applying slight pressure to force her mouth open. His gaze locked onto her slightly parted, glistening lips.
"What are you asking me, Wynne?"
Yuan Ning glanced down and, without a doubt, saw something. Then she looked up at him and asked what was in her hand.
He rubbed her lower lip with his thumb until she cried out in pain and pulled away.
"That's enough, Wynne."
A warm, damp mist gradually settled on the car windows, completely isolating the chaotic yet incredibly real sanctuary inside the car from the cold, orderly New York City night outside.
He saw her clearly: her hair was disheveled, her lips were swollen and red, and her eyes seemed to be moist. He gradually became infatuated.
He decided to stop and know when to stop.
Wynne wasn't that bold. When he pointed out again, "Wynne, you should get out of the car," she turned back to the passenger seat, glanced at him, and then got out of the car.
Forgive Elias for remaining motionless; he silently glanced down, still needing to deal with the upright fellow.
The car door was gently closed, and a rush of cool air instantly dispelled the stuffy, sultry atmosphere of the car, a mixture of passion, desire, and expensive fragrance.
He remained in that position, without moving.
Finally, he raised his hand and, slowly and laboriously, buttoned his trousers again. The fine fabric wrapped them up once more, the engine started with a low rumble, and the Aston Martin silently glided into the night, driving away from the apartment building.
Yuan Ning had just returned home when her phone screen lit up in the dark. It was a message from Eleanor, asking how her trip to Italy went and excitedly mentioning that Justin was having a private party next week.
The real world, with its mundane social interactions, unfinished work, and urgent plans, brutally squeezed in.
Yuan Ning looked at the light on her phone screen, her gaze gradually focusing.
[Everything went well, Eleanor. I'll stop here for now, see you tomorrow.]
After sending the message, she tossed her phone onto the sofa and walked barefoot into the bathroom.
Hot water poured down from the showerhead, the rising steam blurring the mirror. Yuan Ning closed her eyes, letting the water wash over her body.
The sensation of Elias's hand on her lower back, the warmth of his breath on her neck, the deep, husky tone of his last words—all these details became even clearer amidst the sound of the flowing water.
My phone lit up a few more times as I came out of the bathroom.
She thought it was Eleanor replying to her, so she opened her phone, only to receive an unexpected message.
The light from the phone screen was blinding in the darkness. Yuan Ning stared at the new message for a full ten seconds before she could identify the sender.
The few lines of text on the screen pierced her pupils like cold needles.
[Nini, Dad transferred some money to you, not much, use it first. By the way, I heard that you and Qingyuan haven't been getting along very well since Qingyuan came. Your younger sister is younger than you, and Dad has already reprimanded her. If possible, you two sisters should sit down and have a good talk. You're all family, there's nothing you can't overcome.]
This was followed by a bank transfer text message: $5,000, with the note "living expenses".
Yuan Ning's fingers hovered above the screen, trembling slightly.
Yuan Ning took a deep breath, neither replying nor opening the phone for a closer look. She simply placed the phone screen-down on the coffee table, making a soft "snap" sound.
Then she walked barefoot into the bathroom and closed the door.
Hot water was poured over her head again, this time it was a bit too hot. Her skin turned slightly red, and the pain cleared her head a little. She closed her eyes, water droplets dripping from her eyelashes.
She was thinking about the Casanova project.
Although she obtained partnership rights in the Casanova project, her 30% stake was not free. The contract clearly stated that she needed to achieve specific performance targets within a certain period, otherwise her stake would be diluted.
The water gradually cooled. Yuan Ning turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a bath towel. The mirror was covered in fog, but she reached out and wiped it away to get a clear view, looking at herself in the mirror: her black hair was wet and clung to her cheeks, and there was an almost fierce calmness in her eyes.
She stepped out of the bathroom, didn't check her phone, but went straight to her desk, opened her laptop, and worked through the night, gazing at the stunning night view of her apartment.
On Monday, after finishing a morning of classes, Yuan Ning knocked on Professor Miller's office door.
"Please come in."
She entered carrying a laptop and various documents, wearing a simple white cashmere sweater.
Professor Miller had already learned the final outcome of the Casanova project from Marco.
Yuan Ning sat down in the chair opposite him, reported the project progress to him again, and submitted a project plan as a final assignment, hoping to get the scholarship for this semester.
“Wynne, your concept is very interesting. However, heritage and craftsmanship are stories that every brand tells. Before you gathered those twelve members, how can you prove that Casanova’s heritage is the best? You went to their workshop in Italy, and that proves it? You say their craftsmanship is top-notch, but you are just a student. I’m worried that high society won’t buy into your story.”
Yuan Ning nodded: "Yes, Professor, that is exactly the problem I am currently facing."
Professor Miller suggested she look through Robb Report and Town & Country, two publications considered bibles of high society, whose readers were precisely the portraits of the "twelve people" she was looking for.
Yuan Ning spent the entire afternoon browsing through Robb Report and Town & Country in the library, trying to find out who could define top-tier taste and make that person the first member of Casanova, which would make things much easier from there.
She discovered a name that was repeatedly mentioned by the elite but never appeared in the public eye—Martha von Wright.
She never collaborates with commercial brands; her refusal itself is a guarantee of credibility.
If Yuan Ning could get the other party to cooperate with her, the results would be self-evident.
In the evening, around seven o'clock, Yuan Ning arrived at the Van der Berg mansion.
She was a little late today, and Dorotha opened the door for her, invited her in, and told her, "The Van der Berg family is all here today."
This included Lady Theodora and Viscount Arthur. Elias accompanied them in the drawing room.
As Dorotha led Yuan Ning toward the dressing room, she lowered her head as they passed the living room.
The two stood under the archway, where warm yellow light spread out like water, falling on the heavy Persian carpet and dark velvet sofa.
The fire in the fireplace was burning quietly.
Theodora sat sideways on a single sofa, a thick leather-bound book open on her lap, while Viscount Arthur van der Berg stood beside her.
Elias sat on the other side of the sofa, holding a document in his hand, tilting his head slightly to listen to his mother's whispered words.
This is a complete, self-contained world, heavily fortified, with a harmonious blend of cultures, and not easily broken.
Dorotha's steps slowed down naturally just a few feet outside the archway.
She did not stop, but along this short distance, she lowered her head slightly with an almost instinctive, deeply ingrained submissiveness.
Yuan Ning followed half a step behind Dorota, and at her instruction, slowed her pace to avoid disturbing the host family's private time.
Her gaze swept calmly over the warm, inviting scene. She could feel the invisible weight in that space, and she could also sense the strict order that lay beneath Dorotha's silent demeanor, deeply embedded in every brick and stone of the mansion.
The two of them passed silently through the boundary of light and shadow cast by the archway and entered the dimly lit corridor leading to the cloakroom, unnoticed by anyone.
The moment Yuan Ning's gaze fell on Elias, Elias indifferently raised his eyes and briefly looked at Yuan Ning.
Yuan Ning turned around and walked into the shadows.
With just one glance, Yuan Ning's heart surged with emotion. She could hardly believe that the thing between that man's legs, which she had held in her hand not long ago, was throbbing vigorously.
Dorotha led her, like two fish sinking into deep water, as if they had never been there.
Twenty minutes later, Theodora seemed to get tired of watching. She rubbed her forehead, stood up from the sofa, and said she wanted to go back to her room to rest.
Viscount Arthur nodded slightly and gave a brief reply.
Theodora closed the book, handed it to another maid standing in the corner, and glanced in Elias's direction.
"Don't stay up too late, Elias."
“Yes, Mother.” Elias looked up and returned a perfectly gentle smile.
Then Viscount Arthur gave him a deep look: "I heard you changed a pre-agreed investment plan for a leather goods workshop?"
“Yes, Father.” Elias put away the documents, and their eyes met in the air. “After calculation, the new plan will bring Perseus a greater return.”
Viscount Arthur snorted coldly: "That's just a small workshop, Elias, you don't need to go to such lengths for it."
Elias replied calmly, "Father, Perseus was founded by me and has nothing to do with you. You'd better not interfere."
Arthur clearly hadn't expected his son to say something so forceful.
"None of my business?" His voice was lower and slower than before. "Elijas, before you even wore Groton's uniform and learned your first economic model, the name Van der Berg had already reserved a place for you at every negotiating table. Do you think Percival Capital's smooth passage through every hurdle is due to your ingenious algorithms or the three hundred years of credibility behind that name?"
“You can have your proud Perseus, you can manipulate your numbers, you can play with your markets.” Arthur’s gaze sharpened as it swept across Elias’s calm face. “But the blood flowing in your veins, the mansion you stand in right now, even the elite education you received for your brain that you use to think and calculate higher returns, all of this comes from me, and the surname I inherited from you.”
Elias remained seated, his posture unchanged, and smiled slightly: "Father, I did not deny these things."
Arthur's expression softened: "Good boy, you know what you should do."
Elias kept smiling until he watched his father leave.
He was alone in the living room. He leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes.
I can almost feel it with my fingertips: beneath that soft gauze skirt, the vibrant yet hidden pulse of young life.
The firelight from the fireplace cast trembling shadows on his closed eyelids, like some uncontrollable pulse awakening within him.
His father's words, those heavy burdens about surnames and inheritance, did not sink into the abyss of his reason as usual.
Arthur was right; every advantage he possessed bore the mark of van der Berg.
But this realization brought not the usual, calm sense of responsibility, but an almost burning... rebellion.
His fingertips unconsciously curled up on the leather sofa armrest, then slowly relaxed. There seemed to be another kind of tactile sensation still lingering on it.
Another half hour passed, and he gave himself half an hour to calm down.
Half an hour later, he pushed open the heavy wooden door of the walk-in closet and stepped in silently.
The space, with its constant temperature and humidity, exuded an aura he was familiar with and could control.
Yuan Ning, with her back to the door, was standing on tiptoe, trying to hang a freshly ironed white poplin shirt back on the high clothes rack.
She seemed to be struggling, her arms stretched straight out, the tight black velvet slip dress accentuating the shape of her prominent shoulder blades, her waistline deep, and a section of her fair calves peeking out from under the hem of the dress.
Elias stood at the doorway and did not go forward to help.
He didn't expect her to still be there. Normally, she would finish styling and ironing within half an hour and then leave.
At this moment, she exuded a carefully crafted cunning.
He remained silent.
He simply stood quietly in the shadows by the door.
Yuan Ning seemed to have finally hung up her shirt, breathed a sigh of relief, and put her feet down. She turned around, intending to get another accessory.
The moment she turned around, her gaze unexpectedly met Elias, who was standing in the shadows by the door.
"ah!"
Elias didn't give her a chance to turn around. He pressed against her, grabbed her lower back from behind, controlled her neck with his other hand, and bit her lips.
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