Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 50: No Kissing Anyone

Chapter 50: No Kissing Anyone

The man’s roguish gaze swept over Emma Hart’s bashful face, her bright, lively eyes darting away nervously.

Damien Sterling’s voice, deep and beguilingly wicked, resonated with a magnetic, ambiguous charm.

"You truly are a natural enchantress," he murmured.

Emma glared at Damien, sensing the words weren’t meant as a compliment but rather as a form of disdain from him.

"Let me go," she demanded.

"Alright," Damien agreed, a smirk playing on his lips.

Emma’s body, responding to the release, leaned back in a graceful arc.

To her astonishment, Damien did let go.

"Ah!" she exclaimed in shock.

But her fall was arrested unexpectedly.

Strong hands firmly caught her, pulling her back from the brink.

Emma’s body was once again secured in Damien’s grasp.

Witnessing Emma’s startled reaction, Damien drew her closer, tilting her chin up and forcibly drawing her lips to his, sealing them with a kiss.

"Adorable," he chuckled, turning away.

His chest, revealed by the buttons Emma had undone, flaunted a sculpted physique, exuding a wild and sensual allure.

Time and again, Damien Sterling made exceptions for Emma Hart.

Everyone is aware of Damien Sterling’s severe obsession with cleanliness, especially when it comes to women.

He never kisses any woman, let alone seek a kiss like he just did.

Behind Emma, Damien Sterling is holding her quietly.

His hands are still, merely resting behind her, providing Emma with a clear sense of Damien’s composed breathing.

The man’s self-control is peculiar.

Sometimes, he acts like a complete libertine, but at other times, he’s the epitome of a restrained gentleman.

Emma seriously wonders if Damien Sterling suffers from a split personality.

Suddenly, Emma’s stomach churns violently, the tumultuous waves of morning sickness crashing over her again.

Her entire body convulses with each wave of nausea.

"Ugh..." Emma throws off the covers, unable to hold back any longer, and starts vomiting over the side of the bed.

Damien Sterling, who was breathing steadily just moments ago as if in deep sleep, instantly gets up and moves to Emma’s side.

Did he sleep at all, or was it a feigned slumber?

"Did I crush you?" Damien Sterling asks softly and with concern.

Emma shakes her head, astounded by Damien’s ability to take the blame.

Damien gets out of bed without bothering to put on his robe and instructs, "Get a glass of water."

The 24-hour servant, who had been dozing off at the door, snaps to attention at the sound and promptly obeys.

Damien brings the water to Emma, waiting until she sits up before tenderly offering it to her.

"I don’t want to drink it."

"Be obedient, okay?" he says, his voice serene, a touch of warmth flickering in his eyes.

Emma pressed her lips together, accepting the water and sipping it cautiously.

She knew it wasn’t often that the man showed a pleasant demeanor, so it was best not to push her luck too far.

Setting the glass on the bedside table, she slowly reclined, feeling the intense gaze of Damien Sterling fixed upon her.

Unexpectedly, Damien placed his hand on Emma’s abdomen, his brow furrowed in contemplation.

His touch so gentle as if fearing any more pressure might harm her.

The usual coldness in his eyes seemed to melt away with the warmth of his palm on her belly.

For the first time, Damien was genuinely connecting with the life growing inside Emma, a life that, just like Emma, he had no prior experience with.

This privilege, this new role of fatherhood, was what Emma had brought to him.

His stern features softened, his curiosity breaking through as he looked at Emma with a questioning gaze, "Is there really a child in there?"

Emma, amused by his question and the stark contrast from the usual stern Damien Sterling to this man full of inquiries, couldn’t help but cover her mouth to suppress a giggle.

"What else would it be if not a child, a puppy perhaps?"

Caught off guard, Damien coughed slightly, withdrawing his hand from her stomach and reverting to his usual stoic expression, as if to cover the brief lapse in his composed demeanor.

"Emma Hart, have you learned to cloak your insults?" Damien’s voice was cold as he adjusted the blanket and settled back to rest, eyes closed.

The child she carried was nothing more than a bargaining chip for Damien, a means to secure his grandfather’s company.

This harsh reality was undeniable.

Emma’s thick lashes fluttered gently as she marveled at the man’s striking beauty.

If there was any benefit to such allure, she figured it must be to pass on those good genes to their offspring.

She imagined if the child in her womb was a girl, she would surely be a beauty without parallel.

And if it were a boy, undoubtedly, he’d grow into a fine, handsome young man.

These thoughts stirred a flicker of anticipation in Emma for the child yet to come.

Such musings would normally be whispered between spouses in the quiet intimacy of their bedroom.

However, lying beside the sleeping figure of Damien Sterling, the father of her child, Emma felt even a casual jest about the baby would be out of place.

How could she possibly engage in tender discussions about their child with him?

Brushing off these thoughts, Emma gazed out at the moon’s serene glow and the twinkling stars, slowly succumbing to slumber...

In the early hours, Damien left for work without waking Emma, just as she had hoped for.

After breakfast, nearly ten in the morning, the doorbell chimed.

"Miss Emma, I’ve returned."

Emma stood, disbelief etching her features as she beheld Mrs. Harris at the door.

Overjoyed, she hurried forward. "Mrs. Harris, how have you come back?"

Mrs. Harris, setting aside her belongings, rushed forward to support Emma, her gaze fixed on Emma’s belly.

"Miss Emma, be careful, please. You seem to have slimmed down these past few days. You mustn’t neglect the child within."

A wave of poignant sentiment washed over Emma.

Such genuine concern had been absent for too long.

Only Mrs. Harris offered true care.