Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 119: Watching a Movie with Him

Chapter 119: Watching a Movie with Him

The man held Emma Hart close, his gaze not on her but fixed intently on the projection in front of them, as if the person who had just pulled Emma into his embrace wasn’t him at all.

The projection was playing the opening scene of the movie "E.T.," a film all too familiar to Emma Hart, yet seemingly out of character for the man’s usual taste, who had previously shown disdain for it.

"Why insist on watching it with me if you find it boring?" Emma Hart asked, not quite catching the mood.

Without looking at Emma, the man brushed off her comment, likening responding to her to engaging in a pointless argument with a child.

Damien Sterling’s fingers lightly tapped on Emma’s shoulder, pondering something, before he picked up the juice beside him and brought it to Emma’s lips without asking—a bold move essentially telling Emma, "Drink!"

Reluctantly, Emma opened her mouth and took a sip from the straw, after which the man then moved the juice to his own lips and took a sip without hesitation.

This action surprised Emma; she had thought the juice was his way of telling her to keep quiet, believing that his fastidious nature would prevent him from touching the drink after her.

She remembered Mrs. Harris mentioning Damien Sterling’s severe cleanliness obsession, noting how he would only drink and not eat at most social gatherings, avoiding any food that had been touched by others.

After putting down the juice, Damien leaned back comfortably, though the strength in his arm encircling Emma remained unchanged, holding her firmly.

"Indulging in a bit of boredom and childishness isn’t necessarily a bad thing," he said nonchalantly.

Emma rolled her eyes internally, criticizing how Damien seemed too absorbed in a movie that was widely adored, always placing himself above such common pleasures.

"It’s actually very interesting," she muttered under her breath, having grown up watching this movie and never finding it boring.

Damien tightened his grip on Emma slightly, drawing her in closer. "Let’s watch the movie," he stated.

Emma pouted, only allowed to listen, as Damien always maintained that air of authority, dictating what was permissible, like an official who insists on a double standard.

Emma Hart’s eyes began to droop as she watched the movie, which she had thought she could watch over and over without boredom.

Familiar with every scene, she could almost predict the next few moments, but sleepiness crept in, enveloping her in a foggy haze.

Unknowingly, Emma drifted off to sleep.

Initially, she tried to keep her head up, but gradually, her head, like her eyelids, became too heavy to resist and tilted, finding comfort on a firm yet soft arm.

This unexpected pillow brought her immense comfort and a sense of peace.

The man turned his head to see Emma sleeping soundly on his shoulder, a pleasant curve forming at the edge of his lips.

He smiled softly, admiring the woman’s slightly pouted face, her skin pink and tender, chubby yet not overweight, irresistibly cute and soft to the touch.

He felt an urge to caress her but restrained himself.

As she slept, her long eyelashes fluttered slightly.

Perhaps, in her sleep, she appeared most vulnerable and dependent, capturing the man’s attention entirely.

Everything else faded into the background, unable to distract him from his focus on her.

This woman awakened in him a strong desire to protect, not just physically but her spirit as well.

He possessed the means to protect anyone, yet what he desired went beyond mere physical safety – he sought to safeguard her soul.

If only they could have met under different circumstances...

The sudden increase in the movie’s volume jolted the man back to reality.

After a quick glance at the screen, he turned back to Emma, his brow furrowed with concern, as if afraid the noise might disturb her rest.

Despite his worry, the sound eventually woke Emma.

She blinked away the sleep, realizing she had been resting on the man’s shoulder, like a child unwilling to wake.

Noticing the movie still playing, she muttered self-reproachfully, "How did I fall asleep?"

Perhaps overtaken by fatigue, Emma’s drowsiness returned, her head bobbing against Damien Sterling’s shoulder.

Damien gently parted his lips, asking softly, "Tired?"

His voice, deep and magnetic, carried a soothing quality that made it hard not to succumb to its lull.

Was this still Damien Sterling? His voice sounded unexpectedly warm, not at all distant or cold.

In her drowsy state, Emma yearned only for sleep, unable to muster the energy to discern if the man beside her was the aloof Damien Sterling she knew.

All she wanted was to be allowed to sleep.

Damien Sterling propped Emma Hart against the backrest before he stood up, crouched down, and effortlessly lifted her into his arms, with Emma’s hands naturally draping around Damien’s neck.

He carried her towards the bed, while she buried her face into his neck, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with tobacco, longing for nothing more than to fall deeply asleep until morning.

In her sleep, she felt herself gently placed on a soft, comfortable bed, covered with a light down comforter, enveloped in warmth...

The night passed peacefully, and it wasn’t until she heard the birds chirping by the window and saw the white light flickering before her eyes that Emma Hart opened her eyes, feeling as if a deep sleep had washed away all her fatigue.

Stretching and yawning, she turned her head only to see another serene and handsome face.

Emma quickly moderated the extravagant stretch she had begun upon waking, captivated by the man beside her.

She wondered, how could he still not have awakened at this late hour?

His features were too striking.

She had always known he was flawlessly perfect, yet she had never observed him from such close quarters.

Emma moved closer, lying on the pillow facing him, noticing every pore on his face.

Unable to resist, she reached out to touch his face, noting his brows were always slightly furrowed, as if burdened with worries even in sleep.

Emma’s fingers touched his forehead, gently stroking to the sides as if to smooth away his concerns, moving down to his prominent, mountain-like nose bridge.

Such perfect nostrils and nose bridge seemed model-like.

Emma, suddenly thinking about the trendy minor cosmetic surgeries, mused that a prosthetic might make someone look as appealing as him.

With this thought, she couldn’t help but tweak his nose and bridge, wondering if they could be fake—it was hard for her to believe such perfection could exist in the world.

"It’s real!" The man’s deep voice broke the silence, his deep eyes opening in an instant and gazing at Emma Hart.