Psycho villain I Raised Wants to Marry Me-Chapter300 – Give me clothes
Atticus turned his head and caught her staring, her eyes glued to his waist.
A wicked smile curved his lips.
He tossed the blanket aside, stood up, and walked toward her unhurriedly. “Clarissa, what are you looking at? Is it really that good?”
The blanket fell to the floor.
Clarissa froze.
This bastard wasn’t wearing anything at all.
He strolled toward her boldly, his silhouette striking in the morning light.
There was a beat of silence—then Clarissa screamed.
“ATTICUS!”
She slammed the curtains shut and punched him hard. “Are you insane?! The curtains were still open!”
She spun around to grab a robe for him. Watching her flustered movements, Atticus’s smile only widened.
“Relax,” he said lazily. “There’s no one on this floor. No one will see.”
He leaned closer, voice low. “Besides, I only want Clarissa to see.”
She threw the robe at his face. “Put it on! Now!”
“You’re the one who said you liked it yesterday,” he teased, pinning her lightly against the wall. “And now you’re calling it awful? Clarissa, you’re so heartless…”
“Stop talking nonsense…” Her cheeks burned as she pushed against his chest. “Atticus… I really have to go to work.”
He lowered his head, brushing his cheek against hers, then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“Good morning, Clarissa.”
She froze.
It was such an ordinary sentence, yet it instantly filled her chest with warmth.
A second later, she rose onto her toes and kissed his chin softly. “Good morning… my Atticus.”
He stared at her, eyes darkening, then suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Looks like I’m not going to work today.”
With a startled gasp, Clarissa was lifted and tossed back onto the bed, his burning body pressing down on hers—
Another round of passion followed.
By the time Atticus was finally dressed and ready to leave, it was already past two in the afternoon.
Clarissa straightened his collar, grumbling, “Even if the director doesn’t say anything, you can’t keep doing this. Don’t make things difficult for people.”
Having been thoroughly satisfied, Atticus smiled obediently and nodded at everything she said. “Okay. I’ll listen to whatever Clarissa says.”
After seeing him off, Clarissa unpacked the remaining boxes in the living room, then went to the music room to practice.
She flipped through her earlier compositions, twirling her pen and circling sections quickly.
The more she reviewed them, the more satisfied she felt. Hugging the sheet music to her chest, she smiled.
She really wanted him to be the first to hear it.
His face flashed through her mind.
Clarissa glanced at the clock, stood up immediately, went back to change, and headed out.
Ten minutes later, she was standing at the hospital entrance.
She had just pressed the elevator button when a sharp voice rang out beside her.
“Don’t you know this is Mr. Atticus’s private elevator? Who gave you permission to use it? Get out.”
Clarissa instinctively looked up and saw Natalie standing there.
“Miss Natalie?”
Natalie frowned, looking her up and down. “You know me? You’re Clarissa?”
Seeing Clarissa standing so close to the elevator, a flicker of suspicion crossed her eyes.
“I’m here to see Mr. Atticus,” Clarissa said calmly, smiling faintly. “Are you here for an appointment too, Miss Natalie?”
“Of course I am!” Natalie snapped, stepping forward and shoving Clarissa aside. “Move. This elevator is private—only certain patients can use it. If you want to see Mr. Atticus, get in line. His appointments are booked for the next ten years!”
Clarissa stepped back slightly, watching Natalie furiously mash the buttons, and smiled.
“Since you’re in such a hurry, Miss Natalie, you should go first.”
She lowered her head and sent a message.
The elevator didn’t respond, and Natalie grew impatient.
Clarissa walked forward again and said gently, “The password was changed a while ago. It’s 0416.”
Natalie entered the numbers—and the elevator doors slid shut.
Her eyes widened. “You knew the password? Wait—how do you know that?”
Clarissa smiled softly.
“Because… it’s my birthday.”
Natalie whipped around to stare at her.
At that moment, the elevator doors slid open.
Atticus strode out—and walked straight past Natalie without sparing her a glance. His eyes locked onto Clarissa, lighting up with pure surprise and delight.
“Clarissa—why are you only coming now?” he said, already reaching for her. “I missed you so damn much.”
Clarissa laughed softly. “How long has it been, really?”
“A long time,” he replied solemnly, holding her hand like a wronged child. “Four hours and twenty-three minutes.”
The past few days felt unreal, like a dream he might wake from at any moment. Today, he hadn’t been able to focus at all—his thoughts had been entirely consumed by her.
“You came because you missed me too, right?” he asked carefully, eyes full of hope, like a loyal puppy seeking reassurance.
“Yes,” Clarissa said gently. “I missed Atticus so much I couldn’t wait to see you.”
That was all it took.
Without hesitation, Atticus scooped her up and carried her back into the elevator.
He walked leisurely down the corridor, clearly savoring the feeling of holding her like this. He loved how soft she felt, the faint sweetness of her scent. In his arms, she instinctively leaned into his chest, as if he were holding her heart as well as her body.
Atticus wanted to hold her. Clarissa allowed it.
For a moment, the corridor echoed only with the sound of his footsteps.
He glanced down at her and asked quietly, “Clarissa… did that woman give you trouble?”
Clarissa laughed. “I’m not that easy to bully.”
Her bright smile made something stir uneasily in Atticus’s chest. She had always been like this—never jealous, never possessive, even when other women hovered around him.
“You know exactly why she’s after me,” he said, a hint of frustration slipping through. “Why aren’t you angry at all?”
Clarissa sighed inwardly. Fighting over a man had always seemed pointless to her. A man whose heart could waver so easily wasn’t worth competing for.
And her Atticus wasn’t that kind of man.
So what was there to be upset about?
She met his expectant gaze, then slipped an arm around his neck. “Why would I be angry?”
As his expression shifted, she leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear, her breath warm and teasing.
“You’re completely mine now,” she whispered softly. “And they’ll never understand how good this feels.”
Her words sent a shiver straight down his spine.
Atticus sucked in a sharp breath—and the next second, kicked open his office door.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Before Clarissa could react, he pressed her down against the desk, sweeping everything off it with a rough motion.
“Att—Atticus—”
Too late.
Her trench coat buttons were already undone. His gaze dropped—and froze.
Beneath the coat, she was wearing a lace dress, thin straps barely holding it in place. The back was half-exposed, her curves faintly outlined, her legs flashing through the sheer hem.
Pure. Provocative. Irresistible.
It was nothing like her usual style—and that made it even more dangerous.
Just looking at her made his blood burn.
Sunlight poured in through the undrawn curtains. Clarissa realized this too late and pushed at his chest, flustered. “Wait—wait— the curtains—”
He laughed low and wicked. “Trust me, Clarissa. You’ll enjoy this even more later.”
When he lifted her skirt, he discovered lace-trimmed stockings hugging her long, pale legs.
His eyes darkened. “You wore this on purpose, didn’t you?”
Her face flushed crimson. She turned away stubbornly. “Close the curtains first!”
She had chosen it for him—down to the color—but she hadn’t expected him to be this bold, leaving the door unlocked, the curtains wide open.
She felt completely trapped.
Before she could say another word, his mouth covered hers, silencing every protest.
The room heated rapidly.
At first, Clarissa was shy—then her strength melted away entirely, leaving her helpless beneath him.
Through the haze, all she could hear was his ragged breathing, his low, almost feral murmurs.
“Clarissa… Clarissa…”
He said her name over and over, each time softer, deeper, more intense.
Her thoughts dissolved. Her world narrowed until there was only him.
She didn’t know how long it lasted.
When it finally ended, Clarissa lay sprawled across the desk, breathless, her ears ringing with the sound of their breathing. She kept her eyes closed for a long moment, utterly still.
Then reality crashed back in.
She shoved him hard. “Atticus! Get up—right now!”
Mortified, she reached for her clothes—only to find torn scraps of fabric.
A low chuckle came from beside her.
Furious, Clarissa threw the scraps at his face. “You’re paying for this!”
Atticus caught her hand and kissed her fingers, smiling shamelessly. “Fine. Whatever you want. I’ll buy you an entire truckload next time.”
“That’s not the point!” she snapped, pushing him away. “Give me clothes. Now.”
She had just slept with him in his office—with the curtains open.
The realization made her want to disappear.
Atticus gently lowered her into his office chair. Concern flickering across his face, he draped his shirt over her shoulders. “This glass is special,” he murmured. “No one can see in from the outside. No one will enter this room without my permission. Only you.”
Clarissa froze. All her earlier anxiety had been unnecessary. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
Atticus let her hit him, a wicked smile tugging at his lips. Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, “I think… you were a little more excited than usual just now.”
Her cheeks flushed crimson. “Atticus!”
He laughed, low and deep, and held her firmly. “Clarissa, don’t move. If you move again, I can’t promise what’ll happen next…”
She panted, lightly punching his chest. “Aren’t you tired?”
He lowered his head, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I can’t help it. Every time I see you, my body just… goes out of control.”
Clarissa leaned against him, her eyes shimmering like water, her skin soft and warm, cheeks delicate as peach blossoms. She looked up at him, and her gaze fell on his perfect profile, damp hair clinging alluringly to his forehead.
She reached for his hand, her voice barely a whisper. “Husband?”
His heart skipped a beat. That was the first time she had called him that.
“Clarissa… what did you just call me?”
She smiled, calm yet teasing. “Mr. Atticus, I wanted to ask you something…”
“Say it again,” he prompted, voice low, urgent.
Clarissa’s fingers traced his chest, gliding over smooth skin and firm abs. Her touch lingered on the delicate crabapple blossom design on his heart. “Answer my question first…”
Each brush of her hand made his chest tighten, his heart stutter violently. “You said…” he rasped, breath uneven.
“Mr. Atticus, you’re so handsome, so charming… back in school, were you ever chased by the school beauty?” She circled the petals etched over his chest, teasing and innocent.
He swallowed hard. “I… I’ve forgotten.”
Chapter300 – Give me clothes
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