Chapter 819 Clayton, Last Night Meant Nothing!
Natalie was only half-drunk.
She realized she was downstairs from their old apartment. She glanced at the driver's seat and, sure enough, it wasn't a driver—it was Clayton.
Natalie leaned back against the soft seat, her small face turned to the side, watching the leaves dance in the night and the hazy moonlight.
After a long silence, Clayton spoke, "You sober yet?"
Natalie shot back, "What do you mean? Clayton, why'd you bring me here? You think coming here will make me nostalgic and want to go back to the way things were? We're done, I made that clear! What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone? Do I have to... get married?"
"To who?" In the dim car, Clayton's voice was rough. "Natalie, you won't."
If she could easily fall for someone else, she wouldn't have been alone for so long.
The Devereux and Hawkins families had introduced her to many men, none perfect but all decent enough for marriage, yet she hadn't gotten close to any of them.
Clayton knew this well.
She went on dates, met men, but it was just to tell him and herself that she wanted to start over. But could she?
Clayton unbuckled his seatbelt.
He got out, opened the back door, and looked down at Natalie, his voice low, "Get out."
Natalie didn't move.
Clayton bent down, scooped her up, and shut the car door forcefully.
Natalie was light.
In his arms, she felt soft, like a feather.
She resisted weakly, drunk and powerless, her voice breaking, "Let me go! Let me go."
Clayton ignored her.
He carried her to the elevator, swiped the card with one hand, and the elevator ascended.
Natalie, feeling warm from the alcohol, knew what it meant for a man to take a woman upstairs alone. She kicked him, accidentally hitting a sensitive spot.
A muffled groan escaped him.
Clayton looked down at her, something indescribable in his eyes. Then, under her teary gaze, he grabbed her slender leg, moving slowly, almost lewdly.
Natalie trembled, staring at him.
Clayton had never treated her like this before, especially not in public.
The elevator continued upward.
Clayton lowered his head, his prominent nose touching hers, and asked, "Does it feel good?"
Natalie, humiliated, kicked him again.
But he held her firmly, and soon she was too weak to resist. She bit his shoulder, whimpering in frustration.
Clayton's gaze deepened.
He whispered in her ear, "If it feels good, just let it out!"
Natalie panted, cursing, "You bastard!"
Clayton chuckled softly, pressing her into a corner out of the camera's view. His long, mischievous finger gently traced her lips, slow and deliberate.
Natalie struggled, her eyes red, repeating, "Clayton, you bastard!"
Clayton remained silent.
The elevator reached the top floor. He carried her out, opened the apartment door a few seconds later.
Inside, it no longer looked like it had after she moved out.
Clayton had it cleaned, newly decorated, with many feminine touches, even a pink nursery for Haven.
"Do you like it?"
In the bright bedroom, Clayton hugged her from behind, his chin resting on her thin shoulder.
He whispered that he wouldn't leave again, and if she didn't like it, he wouldn't see Gina anymore.
But Natalie knew if Gina passed away, he would definitely go.
She felt an indescribable sadness. Being with Clayton meant competing with a dying person, something she found both disdainful and absurd.
She turned to him, "I won't move in, and neither will Haven."
She lowered her eyes. "Clayton, do you remember the past? Whenever I wanted to see you, no matter where you were, you'd be there within 24 hours. Now, that's not me anymore!"
Talking about the past, she was still moved.
Clayton had been with her throughout her youth, always there for her. Whether they were together or not, he always held a place in her heart.
Clayton lowered his head. "I never loved her."
Then he said no more.
He carried her to the large bed where they had shared countless intimate moments but never crossed the final line.
Tonight, Clayton was different.
He wanted to make her his woman.
Completely, utterly his.
Under the warm yellow light, on the black silk sheets, Natalie, slender and delicate, was initially treated like a treasure by Clayton. But soon, he couldn't control himself.
He kissed her, his eyes locked on hers.
Natalie turned her face away in embarrassment.
He wouldn't let her. His strong fingers turned her chin back, continuing to kiss her.
In those seductive kisses, he slowly possessed her, making her his woman.
Natalie, drunk, couldn't resist his advances.
But she was clear-headed, perhaps not because of the alcohol but out of a sense of abandonment.
She had always wanted to make love to him.
When a woman lets go, she becomes unrecognizable even to herself.
In the ebb and flow of their lovemaking, Natalie lifted her body to kiss Clayton's chin, even responding to his crude words, matching his possession.
Her voice, soft and alluring, contrasted with his masculinity.
This was their first time making love.
Their bodies entwined, pleasing each other, trembling as if lost in time.
As dawn broke, Natalie woke up, held in Clayton's arms. His strong arm wrapped around her.
Sensing her movement, his hand instinctively moved down, gently teasing her.
Natalie opened her eyes, meeting Clayton's gaze.
In the morning light, his face looked especially handsome.
His breath brushed her face, soft and gentle. After a moment, he lowered his head to kiss her, a tender kiss, while his hand explored her again.
Unlike the rough urgency of the night before, this morning's lovemaking was much more tender.
They were like any ordinary couple, waking up in the morning, making love gently before starting their day.
Neither spoke, but they kept their eyes on each other the whole time.
In that gaze, Clayton lowered his head, resting against her neck, and softly asked, "Did last night feel good... or does this feel better?"
Natalie closed her eyes in embarrassment. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.
Afterward, she took a shower and came out.
Clayton had made breakfast, holding a dry towel to wrap around her, gently drying her off. He couldn't help but kiss her fragrant shoulder.
Natalie spoke softly, "I can do it myself."
But Clayton didn't let go. He held her, towel and all, not caring that the water soaked his shirt.
He kissed her ear, whispering, "There are clothes for you in the closet. Change and have breakfast."
Natalie said nothing. She remained distant, and at the table, she felt the need to clarify things.
"Last night doesn't mean anything! Don't think that just because we made love, we're together."
Clayton was slicing bread. Hearing this, he looked at her, his eyes darkening.
"If you don't want to be with me, why did you make love to me last night? If I remember correctly, we did it four times, and each time you enjoyed it."
"That was because I had no choice. Clayton, you know what happened last night! You brought me here, not giving me a chance to leave."
"But Clayton... one night of physical contact doesn't change our relationship. The issues between us remain. There are plenty of men out there. You're not special."
Clayton stared at her. "So you admit you enjoyed it last night?"
Natalie didn't deny it. "I admit, it was enjoyable."
Clayton put down the knife, wiped his hands with a napkin, and spoke slowly, "Then you shouldn't mind satisfying each other's needs when necessary."
"I do mind!" Natalie set down her milk. "Mr. Percy, thank you for last night. I'm leaving now!"
Clayton grabbed her hand. "In such a hurry? Do you have another date?"
Natalie smirked coldly. She didn't deny it. "Yes! Why not? Clayton, you don't think that just because we made love, you can interfere in my personal life, do you?"
She added, "Please don't show up at my dates again. You'll only ruin things for me."
Clayton wanted to hold her tight, to torment her until she could only call his name, like last night, obedient to his every whim.
But a sober Natalie was cold and distant.
In the end, he drove her back. She didn't let him drive into the estate, getting out at the gate.
Clayton rolled down the window and said softly, "Take care. Don't run around too much."
Natalie didn't respond or turn around. She walked towards the house, her thoughts drifting.
They used to be so close, husband and wife. But last night, they were like strangers, just enjoying primal sex, without love.
How did she and Clayton end up like this?
Since that night, Natalie avoided Clayton. She didn't answer his calls, nor attend social events.
Clayton couldn't get into her estate, and he missed her a few times. Eventually, a servant mentioned that Natalie was staying at The Devereux Mansion for a few days.
Clayton had to go to her office. The same magazine office.
Clayton took the old elevator up, looking at the familiar posters on the walls, remembering their past...
When she was pregnant, he often picked her up after work, taking her out to eat.
A well-fed Natalie didn't like to move, sometimes jumping into his arms, making him carry her. Those were good times.
The receptionist recognized Clayton. He was Natalie's ex-husband, handsome and wealthy.
"Mr. Percy, Ms. Devereux left at four this afternoon. She seems to have a date."
Clayton's first thought was that she was on another date.
Before he could ask, the receptionist smiled and said, "She went to play golf with an important guest from abroad."
Clayton got the address and drove over.
At the golf course, Natalie had finished her meeting and seemed to have no dinner plans.
She changed clothes and walked to the parking lot, just in time to see Clayton.
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