Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 702: Jealous Queen



Chapter 702: Jealous Queen



Natalya’s fingers slipped from mine like she’d been burned, her breath hitching as she adjusted her damp hair with flustered movements. The bathrobe clung to her curves, the fabric still slightly damp from her shower, releasing faint wisps of jasmine and vanilla into the air between us.


She pushed the wheelchair with more force than necessary, the wheels squeaking slightly against the hospital floor.


As she helped me back into bed, her movements were precise but charged with an undercurrent of tension. She tucked the blankets around me with almost aggressive care, her fingers brushing against my chest before snatching back like she’d been shocked.


"I’m going out... for a bit," she muttered, avoiding my eyes as she fussed with the hem of her robe. "You should just rest. And if you need anything—" Her voice cracked slightly. "Just call me. Not the nurse. Me."


Before I could respond, she turned on her heel and strode out, the door clicking shut with finality. I barely had time to process her sudden departure when the door swung open again.


Natalya stood there, her expression stormy, five stunning women arrayed behind her like a personal army. Each bodyguard was tall, beautiful, and eerily expressionless, their presence making the hospital room feel suddenly smaller.


Natalya’s jaw was set, her eyes flicking between me and the women with barely concealed irritation. "Viper," she said, her voice tight with restrained emotion, "we’re going home. Doctor Socotr cleared it."


The bodyguards fanned out silently as Natalya moved to my side. Her hands gripped my arms with possessive strength as she helped me into the wheelchair.


I could feel the heat radiating off her, smell the faintest hint of her shampoo as she leaned in. The nurse from earlier—hovered nearby, her presence clearly grating on Natalya’s nerves.


As we made our way to the car, Natalya’s grip on the wheelchair handles was white-knuckled.


The bodyguards formed a protective semicircle around us, their professional demeanor doing little to ease the tension crackling in the air. When we reached the vehicle, one of the women opened the door with practiced efficiency.


Natalya helped me into the backseat with more force than necessary, her hands lingering on my waist before she abruptly pulled away. As she folded the wheelchair and stuffed it into the trunk, I caught Helen watching us with wide eyes. Natalya noticed, too, her expression darkening as she turned back to the nurse.


"You," Natalya said, her voice icy, "sit in the front."


Helen complied without argument, sliding into the passenger seat with a nervous glance over her shoulder. Natalya settled beside me in the back, her thigh pressing against mine as one of the bodyguards took the driver’s seat. The engine purred to life, and Natalya leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear.


"Doctor Socotr allowed us to take you home," she murmured, her voice low and dangerous, "but Nurse Helen will be monitoring your progress. She’ll be coming with us."


I glanced at Helen, who looked increasingly uncomfortable surrounded by the imposing women.


Natalya followed my gaze, her fingers digging into my thigh as she leaned even closer. "Don’t be too happy," she whispered, her lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I’ll be keeping an eye on you."


I turned to face her, my voice gentle. "Boss, you’re getting the wrong idea. It’s not like that—"


Her reaction was immediate. Natalya’s hand shot out, grabbing my ear with a sharp twist that made me wince. "Hm," she hissed, her eyes flashing with possessive fury, "are you arguing with the boss?"


"No, Boss," I said quickly, "I’m sorry. It’s all my fault."


She released my ear with a hum, though her expression remained stormy. I noticed Helen shifting uncomfortably in the front seat, her eyes darting between us and the bodyguards. Curious, I activated my AI Lens, focusing on the driver.


Name: Polina Ovechkin


Age: 29


Profession: Private Bodyguard


Specializations: Close-quarters combat, tactical driving, advanced firearms.


Notable Traits: Former Spetsnaz operative, fluent in 7 languages, expert in surveillance and counter-surveillance


Before I could read further, Natalya’s fingers dug into my waist, twisting sharply. "You are a pervert," she growled, her voice a dangerous purr. "What are you looking at now?"


I quickly closed the AI display, my voice innocent. "Nothing, Boss. I’m not looking at anything."


"Liar," Natalya accused, her breath hot and sharp against my neck as she suddenly cupped her hands over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. Her fingers pressed firmly, her thumbs resting against my temples, her touch both controlling and oddly intimate. "Close your eyes," she commanded, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "You will open them when I tell you to."


I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, Boss."


I felt her hands linger for a moment longer than necessary before she finally pulled away. The car fell into silence, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional shift of Natalya’s body beside me. I could feel her watching me, her presence a warm, possessive weight against my side.


Ten minutes later, I heard Polina speak for the first time, her voice cool and professional. "Boss, we are here."


Natalya’s grip on my hand tightened almost imperceptibly. "Go grab the wheelchair from the back," she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument.


A moment later, Natalya’s breath was hot against my ear again. "Open your eyes now."


I obeyed, blinking as my vision adjusted to the bright sunlight streaming into the car.


The other four bodyguards had already exited their vehicle, that was parked behind our car and were standing at attention beside Natalya’s door, their expressions impassive.


Helen was also climbing out, her movements nervous as she glanced at the imposing women surrounding her.


Then, I felt a shift in the air as the door beside me opened. I turned my head and found myself face-to-face with Polina.


This close, I could see the intricate details of her features—the high cheekbones, the piercing blue eyes, the full lips that were currently pressed into a neutral line.


She was undeniably beautiful, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail that accentuated her sharp features.


But before I could fully take her in, Natalya had come to my side door, and her hand shot out, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at her instead. Her eyes were blazing with possessive fire, her lips pressed into a thin line.



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