Chapter 172 How About Having a Bet?
They hadn't even entered the room when he suddenly stopped. His gaze was coldly fixed on the roses on the table.
"Do you like flowers?" he asked.
In her memory, he had never given her flowers, not even once.
Harper couldn't think of what to say and mumbled, "It depends on whom they are from."
As soon as she said it, she wanted to bite her tongue off.
As expected, Francis's face darkened.
She didn't mean to provoke him; it was just that during college, a guy used to follow her around and would secretly put a red rose in her backpack or textbooks.
For a while, she was really scared and associated roses with bad things.
That's why she emphasized this point, not specifically indicating that she liked them because Keith gave them to her.
But Francis didn't see it that way.
Francis made a decision almost instantly. Instead of entering the room, he pushed her down onto the table and pressed her against the delicate rose petals.
Harper's back was covered in wet rose dew, the coldness making her shiver.
Harper clung tightly to his shirt, not daring to put her full weight on the roses, feeling both absurd and ridiculous.
There were so many places in the house; why here?
"Not here."
Harper was so nervous that her eyes were moist and misty. Lying on the petals in a state of panic and helplessness, she looked weak, which further aroused Francis' desire to have her.
Francis lowered his eyes and, without allowing any refusal, covered her with his body. "Yes, right here."
The hard wrapping paper made a sound as it was crushed, and Francis's fingers reached behind her to unwrap the roses.
The tightly packed roses immediately scattered, some lying on the table, others falling to the floor on either side.
Harper wasn't sure if the table could bear the weight of two people, her heart pounding with anxiety.
She pushed him away in resistance, saying, "I don't want to do it here; I don't want to have sex with you."
Francis looked at her deeply and said, "So you want me to continue harassing you?"
He got up without hesitation, seemingly ready to stop.
If it weren't for the undeniable evidence elsewhere, Harper might have believed him.
But she didn't want to miss this chance to sever ties with him completely; Francis's bait was like a sweet red apple, waiting for her to take.
She desperately wanted to escape this predicament as she knew that their relationship would only end if Francis gave up on her; otherwise, she had no right to break it off.
As he said, unless he didn't want her, no one else could touch what belonged to him.
She hesitated for a moment, but her mouth had made the decision before her brain. "You won't lie to me, right?"
Francis's eyes were cold and deep, showing no desire.
He said, "Isn't this what you want?"
"Then write a guarantee that you won't harass me ever after."
She stared at him, clutching the front of her shirt.
Francis's eye sockets were deep, his eyelashes particularly long, and when he looked at people without emotion, it felt like one couldn't reach the bottom.
He said, "Supposing I write it, if I want to go back on my word, what can you do?"
Harper was helpless.
This kind of thing wasn't protected by law; as he said, if he went back on his word, she couldn't do anything and had no way to defend her rights.
In the end, it was just a psychological comfort for herself.
Maybe she was too afraid of his silent intrusion, so she had the idea of taking the risk.
Francis remained unhurried and didn't pressure her at all. His tone was calm as he said, "You know you're gambling, so, do you want to gamble?"
Harper's brain didn't think much; they had done it many times before, and if it was with him, it didn't seem that hard to accept.
Even if she lost, she would just consider it as being bitten by a mad dog.
If she won, the rest of her life would be peaceful and harmonious.
With this comparison, her hesitation vanished.
She pressed her lips together and made her decision. "I believe you; you said you wouldn't lie to me."
She played a little trick by using his own words against him.
As long as he wanted to go back on his word, he would think of this sentence.
He would keep in mind the promise he had made to her.
Harper didn't know if it was her illusion, but she felt that Francis wasn't happy when he heard her decision, and he even showed obvious anger.
His displeasure was confirmed later.
Before kissing her, Francis said, "Now it's too late for you to regret."
His lips were moist and tender but carried a strong force. He pried open her lips and teeth, wrapping her smooth tongue, crushing and sucking.
His kiss was so forceful that it felt like he wanted to crush her entirely.
Harper's tongue went numb from his kiss, her fingers trembling uncontrollably.
The rose petals beneath her were crushed into rose juice and exuded a seductive fragrance while trickling down the edge of the table.
His hot breath invaded her.
Francis deliberately made her uncomfortable and was torturing her on purpose.
His kiss traveled from her lips, all the way down.
His kiss passed her delicate jawline, then her beautiful collarbone, finally sucking on the soft flesh of her neck that wasn't covered by bone as he was licking and sucking all over.
Harper trembled uncontrollably and started to regret it, but she couldn't back out now. For the sake of her future life, she wanted to go through it.
But before she could hold onto this thought for long, his moist lips wrapped around her nipple, sucking faster, his hand already inside her panties. Harper felt like she couldn't breathe.
At this moment, the door suddenly made a sound.
Harper was startled, her whole body tensing up.
Francis frowned, not at the noise outside, but at her reaction.
It hit Harper that Molly had said she would come over tonight.
They were on the table in the living room; now she wanted to hide, but it was too late.
Harper's heart was in her throat, and she had even forgotten to struggle.
"Incorrect password."
The smart voice system made her relax for half a second, and then she heard the sound of the password being entered again.
"Incorrect password."
Molly was already impatient and started banging on the door. "Harper, open the door. Why are all the numbers on this door the same?"
Her voice had a tipsy slur; she must have been drinking.
Otherwise, she would have remembered that the smart lock also had a fingerprint function.
Harper struggled to get up, but Francis held her down, his grip strong, his dark eyes almost devouring her.
Harper glared at him, silently asking, "What?"
"Wait."
His breathing was heavier and a bit disordered, and his voice hoarse as if soaked in salty sweat.
Harper's eyes widened in shock, shaking her head in refusal. "You're crazy."
Harper felt like she was on a roller coaster, her adrenaline spiking, her heart racing.
The time wasn't long, but it felt like an eternity.
Outside the door, Molly, who didn't get the response, somehow pressed her fingerprint.
The door opened.
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