Arabella's reply to Raven was simple, just a word: "Start."
While Quentin had sent people all over Island searching for Raven, Arabella, on the other hand, boldly appeared in public.
This time, she was out to enjoy herself with Bramwell—staying at the most luxurious hotel in the southern district of Island.
The hotel was vast and diverse in design. Funded by the Destiny and built under the guise of a government project, it occupied a large area.
To the east, they had enclosed a mountain with hundreds of hot spring pools of varying sizes. On the other side of the mountain was a golf course, along with other sports facilities.
There were also a variety of entertainment options, including massage services, casinos, and bars, as well as diverse leisure activities. The hotel was equipped with a range of amenities such as swimming pools, playgrounds, and restaurants offering cuisine from all over the world.
Room rates varied depending on the floor, with the higher levels being more expensive. From the top floor, one could enjoy a panoramic view of the Island skyline.
Arabella had directly booked the presidential suite on the top floor. The other suite had already been reserved, so Bramwell could only book a room one floor below.
Having just finished his bath, Bramwell emerged from the bathroom when the internal phone rang. Arabella instructed, "Come up and rub my back."
Bramwell's heart skipped a beat. He quickly changed into the hotel's casual attire—a short-sleeved shirt and shorts—and went to find Arabella.
Arabella was already completely undressed, casually draped in a bathrobe, sitting at a round table, drinking wine.
The bath was already prepared, steaming hot and impeccably clean.
After finishing her drink, Arabella casually tossed her robe aside.
Bramwell, watching from behind, blinked and wondered if he should strip as well.
Following her into the bathroom, he could see Arabella's long, slender legs, firm, round backside, and her body, devoid of any extra fat.
He couldn't help but wonder—Arabella ate large portions of meat and drank heavily every day, yet not an ounce of extra weight appeared on her.
Arabella stepped into the large bathtub, sinking in with only her head above the steaming water, exhaling contentedly.
Bramwell was left standing at the tub's edge, unsure of how to help Arabella scrub her back.
With her hands braced on either side, droplets streaming down her face, Arabella looked at the dazed Bramwell and said, "Take off your clothes and get in."
Hurriedly, Bramwell stripped down completely, stepping into the tub with a splash.
"Come on, scrub my back and massage my shoulders," Arabella said, her voice sounding a bit lazy from the steam.
Bramwell responded by placing his hands on Arabella's shoulders. Her skin was delicate and firm, with a texture so smooth it felt almost electrifying to the touch. His blood surged southward, as if swelling to a breaking point.
His reaction was swift and unconcealed, try as he might to hide it.
Arabella noticed, and turned through the mist to slap his rear with a playful smile. "Wanting?"
As she spoke, her hand reached out, gripping his iron-hard rod, stroking it a few times, making Bramwell softly moan, instinctively thrusting, trying to draw more pleasure from her hand.
Arabella wasn't bothered by his reaction. She looked down through the water, observing the flushed, thick rod trembling slightly, the slit at the tip contracting, with a hint of fierce, almost comical intensity.
Arabella became intrigued. Taking a breath, she submerged herself in the water.
Before Bramwell could react, a warmth far beyond the water's engulfed him, sending a wave of pleasure to his head.
He stiffly braced his hands against the edge of the bath, his fingers slightly curling. The tension in his grip made the bones in his hands stand out, firm and strong from the pressure.
He could feel her agile, wet tongue teasingly moving up and down his engorged penis.
Surrounded by such intense warmth, Bramwell held his breath, forgetting even to breathe.
Looking down at Arabella performing on him underwater, he felt an almost highest pleasure.
Arabella was having her fun underwater, comfortably seated and holding her breath, riding the gentle current in a blissful state.
The water was warm, her mouth was warm, and the object of her attention was even warmer.
They were both melting into one another.
Even underwater, she could hear his faint breaths and see, glancing upward, his entranced, flushed face on the verge of release.
The bathroom was silent except for the faint, erotic sounds of her licking, mingling with the shifting water.
As he reached the peak, Bramwell's face flushed red.
So wet and hot.
So intertwined.
So decadent.
He slumped back into the tub, watching as Arabella emerged, flicking her head to shake off water. A bit of white residue lingered at her lips, sticky and suggestive.
Noticing Bramwell's gaze, Arabella licked her lips and said with a teasing smile, "Alright, go find your own fun. You don't need to stay with me."
With his wet hair casting shadows over his eyes, Bramwell felt disheartened, suddenly struck by the pain of being cast aside by her.
At some point, he had grown accustomed to being around Arabella, to following her lead. Each day was thrilling, yet that thrill had become addictive, impossible to escape.
But he didn't dare reveal any extra thoughts, obediently rising, drying himself, dressing, and leaving the room.
After Bramwell was left alone, she drained the water from the bath, casually slipped into some clothes, and tucked her folding knife into her waist. She half-closed the bathroom door and curled up in the corner of the bathtub to sleep.
By the time night fell, Arabella stretched lazily, called room service, ordered several plates of roasted meat and two bottles of wine, and enjoyed a hearty meal. Afterward, she decided to take a stroll.
She enjoyed the quiet, and the hot springs in the middle of the night were perfect for a peaceful retreat with few people around.
She wore wooden sandals and strolled leisurely to various hot spring pools, walking up the mountain path. As she climbed higher, the pools became even more deserted.
The night breeze in the mountains was refreshing, and lights hung by each pool, their soft yellow light casting a tranquil, almost intimate glow over the scene.
When she reached halfway up the mountain, Arabella grew tired and decided to stop. She chose a nearby hot spring pool. Seeing there was only one person in it, she quickly kicked off her sandals and gracefully entered the water.
The young man in the pool appeared to be in his early twenties. His features were striking, with a noble and refined air, typical of someone well-educated and raised with proper manners. He sat with his eyes closed, but upon hearing the sound, he opened them and looked up.
Seeing Arabella step into the pool, he froze for a moment before quickly regaining his composure.
The hot spring was large, and Arabella felt an immediate sense of comfort and relaxation. Despite the presence of another person, it didn't affect her enjoyment.
The mountain was secluded, the wind blowing the warm mist in all directions, creating a hazy, ethereal atmosphere, almost like a fairyland.
It seemed the young man had become aware of a woman joining him in the spring, and he appeared a bit tense. After sitting quietly for a moment, he seemed ready to leave.
However, in the next second, his face suddenly changed, paling dramatically.
He let out a muffled groan, reaching into the pool with his hand and clutching his left leg, feeling sharp, cramping pain shoot through it.
His leg cramped.
He wobbled, trying to get up but unable to move, and could only twitch his other leg to gain leverage, but it was useless.
He glanced at the woman in the hot spring who remained indifferent, and after gathering his courage, he shyly spoke, "Excuse me, miss. My leg is cramping. Could you please help me out to a seat?"
Hearing this, Arabella remained still and replied indifferently, "You can call someone."
The young man's upbringing must have been exceptional; his manners alone spoke of his refined background, making shouting seem overly brash.
After Arabella's clear rejection, he refrained from asking again to avoid causing her discomfort.
He thought that if he sat for a while longer, perhaps the cramp in his leg would ease up. So, he remained silently seated, enduring the painful spasms of the cramp without a sound, quietly bearing the aching discomfort.
Arabella, unconcerned, enjoyed her soak a little longer before standing up to leave.
After soaking, water droplets slid down her collarbone, wetting her thin robe, and the outline of her undergarments became faintly visible beneath the light fabric.
The young man instinctively lowered his head and turned to the side, averting his gaze with respectful manners.
In his rush, he forgot about his cramped leg and tried to shift his weight onto one leg, causing him to lose balance and stumble forward, splashing into the hot spring with a yelp.
Water splashed everywhere, steam swirling around.
When Arabella grabbed him by the nape and hoisted him up, he looked like a drenched kitten, bedraggled and pitiful.
After being rescued, the young man expressed his gratitude with a polite bow, saying, "Thank you for saving me, miss."
Arabella frowned, wondering if this guy had popped out from under a rock.
So young, yet acting like an old scholar.
