NOVEL WEB Chapter 209: Email
The room now contained only the two of them, and Anya naturally understood that the poem Harry had recited was praising her.
She could also discern the feelings in Harry's heart.
Thus, Harry deliberately avoided explicitly stating it and even feigned an embarrassed fluster, as if he had spoken his innermost thoughts unintentionally.
This approach not only allowed Anya to sense his attraction to her but also made him appear refined and cultured.
Moreover, since Harry had merely recited a poem without clarifying anything, Anya felt no sense of aggression from him, nor did she find him sleazy.
This ambiguous, elusive, and emotionally fluctuating interaction immediately struck a deep chord with Anya, who was utterly enamored with tragic romance literature.
"N-no… Brother Harry, you… you just now… looked… looked really handsome… W-where did you… get that line from? I… I've never heard it before…" Anya shyly stole a few glances at Harry, murmuring the lines of his poem under her breath, her heart already pounding with infatuation. She blushed furiously, her entire body burning with shyness.
"Oh… It wasn't copied. It was just something I came up with on the spot. Really, I'm embarrassed. Ah, right, Anya, where's your computer? Let me help you edit your work, then submit it to a friend of mine. I'll also teach you some techniques and procedures for publishing online." Sensing that he had shown off enough, Harry quickly shifted Anya's attention.
"O-oh… It's… it's in my… bedroom… Brother Harry, you… you can come in…" Anya peeked at him shyly, her heart racing uncontrollably at the thought of letting a still somewhat unfamiliar man into her private space. She felt both nervous and flustered.
This was the first time she had ever brought a man into her bedroom.
The sensation was somehow both shameful and thrilling…
Anya's bedroom was spacious, with an entire wall covered in pink cartoon wallpaper. Her single bed, draped with a pink mosquito net, was neatly made with light blue sheets and a comforter.
The room's decor was simple and slightly dated, but it was impeccably clean.
Harry's gaze wandered casually before abruptly freezing on the clothesline outside the window.
There weren't many clothes or pants hanging there, but Anya's bra and panties were among them.
The pure cotton, snow-white bra looked somewhat worn, and its cup size seemed far too small for Anya's ample bosom. Beside it was a white bandage, likely used for binding her chest.
No wonder Harry had always felt that Anya's chest appeared tightly restrained. She must have been intentionally flattening her large breasts out of shame, wearing a bra two sizes too small and even wrapping them with bandages.
As for the white panties, they even had a hole in them, making Harry itch to yank them down and take a deep sniff.
"Brother… Brother Harry… I never knew… you were so talented… You can even compose poetry…" Anya sat shyly by the computer desk, her head lowered as she murmured softly. Noticing Harry standing frozen, she peeked at him and then followed his gaze—only to realize her underwear was hanging outside.
Instantly, her face burned crimson as she leaped up and rushed to the window, yanking the curtains shut.
"Ah! ~~~ Brother Harry! I'm sorry… I… I forgot to take my laundry in… Oh no! ~~~ This is so embarrassing! ~~~ Don't look!! ~~~"
With the curtains drawn, the room darkened considerably, and the atmosphere suddenly turned intimate.
A man and a woman, alone in a bedroom—Anya's bedroom, no less—sent Harry's heart racing with excitement while Anya trembled with nervousness, her cheeks flushed and her pulse frantic.
Especially since Harry had seen her chest-binding cloth and old panties, Anya felt as exposed as if he had seen her naked, overwhelmed with shame.
"Ahem…" Harry coughed awkwardly. After Anya turned on the light, he said apologetically, "Anya, sorry… I didn't mean to stare… Ahem… Let's… let's just focus on the task at hand!"
Swallowing hard, Harry suppressed the urge to take advantage of the charged atmosphere and sleep with Anya. Instead, he gestured for her to sit at the computer.
"Anya, take a seat. Just follow my instructions from here."
"O-okay… Brother Harry…" Anya stole another shy glance at him, her breath trembling as she lowered her head and timidly walked over, perching on the edge of the bed.
Since Anya's computer desk was placed beside the bed, both she and Harry ended up sitting on her bed together.
A man and a woman alone in a room, sitting together on Anya's bed—this made Anya even more ashamed. Her heart fluttered with waves of restlessness and panic, her pulse racing as her face flushed red.
This was the first time Anya had allowed a man to sit on her bed…
And to sit so close to her at that.
Anya could smell the faint, unique masculine scent on Harry, tinged with a hint of tobacco.
However…
Anya stole a glance at Harry, who was currently focused on reading the article on her computer, his serious and absorbed expression making her heart skip a beat.
But every time she remembered that Harry was already married—and was even her boyfriend Ben's brother-in-law—a small pang of disappointment crept into her heart.
"Anya, open the webpage and search for Wattpad. It's a major new media platform for female readers. Although it doesn't have much reputation in the online literature circle yet, its reader base is huge. Plus, they have their own publishing house. Books that make it to the bestseller list have a good chance of getting published,"
Harry explained while guiding Anya step by step through the process of uploading her work on Wattpad.
"Brother Harry… what's going on? Why… why can't I publish it?" After a flurry of effort, Anya finally completed the complicated registration process, only to encounter an issue at the final step of posting her work.
Seeing the error message—"Publication failed, please contact the editor"—Harry's lips curled into a faint, triumphant smile.
As an online platform, Wattpad naturally accepted online submissions. However, to maintain quality, the site required all works to undergo editorial review before publication. Thus, writers usually had to submit their manuscripts to an editor first and only publish after approval.
Seizing the opportunity, Harry naturally leaned closer, pressing his body gently against Anya's soft figure. His arm wrapped around her shoulders as his right hand covered her delicate fingers.
In a tender voice, he whispered into her ear, "Let me see, don't worry, Anya. This time, I'll make sure you get signed. And I'll ask my friend to prioritize your promotions. With your talent, I'm sure your book will get published…"
Anya felt Harry's strong, warm body pressed against her back, his powerful arm and heated palm directly against her skin. The intimate contact made her gasp nervously—this was her first time being so close to a man.
And now, Harry's soft whispers and warm breath brushed against her sensitive ear.
In an instant, Anya's entire body went weak. Trembling slightly, she felt an inexplicable heat spreading through her.
"Oh, I see. Ever since there was flood of new authors, publishing has become such a hassle. You have to submit to an editor first,"
Harry feigned sudden understanding, though he had known the rule all along. Still whispering into Anya's ear, he said, "Anya, let me log into your email, okay? I'll send your novel to Editor, then message her directly. That should secure your contract."
"Mmm… okay… Brother Harry… I'll… I'll listen to you…" Anya was lost in the tension of being embraced from behind, Harry's scorching breath continuously assaulting her sensitive earlobe, sending waves of unbearable tingles through her.
Harry glanced down discreetly at Anya's chest. Though slightly plump, her petite frame made her appear delicate and short. Even from behind, Harry could easily look down at her cleavage.
Perhaps trying to shy away from Harry's strong, heated body, Anya leaned forward slightly, causing the loose neckline of her nightgown to gape open.
From Harry's angle, he had a clear view down the exposed opening—two snow-white, plump breasts and the deep valley between them.
The sight of those soft, full mounds made Harry's breathing grow ragged. His heartbeat spiked along with his quickened breath, and his mouth went dry. Swallowing hard, his nostrils filled with the faint milky fragrance of Anya's tender skin.
Gulp!~
Recalling the earlier madness before facing social suicide—how he had gone all out to strip Anya of her nightgown, using his hands to wantonly knead and spank her tender, voluptuous breasts—Harry's mind was suddenly flooded with the memory of Anya's agonized yet pleasurable, lewd moans!
Those irresistibly alluring, massive breasts were now right before his eyes. All Harry had to do was slide his hand into the open collar of her dress, and he could freely play with and knead them, indulging in the ultimate experience brought by those soft, snow-white, plump mounds!
"Ha… Harry… I… I've already opened the email… What… What should I do next…" Anya could now feel Harry's breathing growing increasingly ragged. While nervous, her body couldn't help but stir with excitement…
After all, she was already a mature young woman. Though untouched, Anya's body had long since developed fully, possessing everything a woman should have.
Instinctively, her body responded to the stimulation of Harry's masculine hormones with a deep yearning.
She was beginning to sink into this ambiguous yet thrilling physical contact, reveling in the friction of Harry's strong body and the teasing warmth of his breath.
"O… Okay, I… I'll send an email for you…" Harry licked his dry lips, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the cleavage of Anya's breasts.
Having learned from his previous mistake, he restrained himself this time. No matter how desperately he craved those full, round, snow-white, supple breasts, he had to suppress his urges and take things step by step.