Chapter 53 Behave, Don't Make Me Angry
'His words, what do they mean?'
Harper could scarcely believe it. 'How could he have never been with Chloe?
'All those trips overseas, what were they for?'
Having been with Francis for two years, Harper knew all too well how much he craved intimacy. He wasn't the type to settle for a platonic relationship.
It seemed unnecessary for him to lie, as he had been upfront about wanting a divorce, telling her straight...
Francis enjoyed seeing her so well-behaved. With a strong grip, he brought her down and wrapped his arms around her, stating clearly, "Just keep being good, and don't make me angry."
Harper didn't ponder his words much, looking straight into his eyes, "Did you really not sleep with Chloe?"
He played with a strand of her hair lazily and said, "No."
"Really?" Harper couldn't help asking again.
Feeling his heart sink a bit, Francis pinched her lips and asked, "What's there to doubt?"
"But..." she began.
Before she could finish, he leaned in closer, whispering, "Let's kiss."
While saying the words, his lips met hers, then trailed to her earlobe, nibbling and teasing with exasperating tenderness.
Harper involuntarily shrank back. Her mind had been foggy all day.
Now, it was a complete mess, unable to defend against his gentle advances.
She tried to evade, but he noticed, tightening his grip on her waist, and bit her gently.
"Mm..." she let out an unexpected whimper.
"Do you want this?" he asked, without waiting for an answer, his fingers clamped her jaw and his thin lips invaded hers.
She had no chance to think. It was too late. Their mouths were entwined.
The VIP hospital rooms were well spaced out, with quietness amplified in such an environment, making their intimate noises all too clear.
Blushing and heart pounding, Harper had feared Victor outside might overhear them.
At that moment, however, her mind was too hazy to consider it.
Francis knew exactly how to stir her desire, his tactics frighteningly precise.
Having no one else to compare to, she always assumed he was an expert in these matters.
After all, with just one look from that mesmerizing face of his, one didn't need any further enticement.
Her train of thought was quickly submerged.
Even with injuries, this man had the knack to take charge.
His lips clung to her as his hand at her waist slipped under her shirt.
Her body tensed like an electric shock had passed through, seeing fireworks explode before her eyes.
Francis released her lips and leaned close to her ear, his voice husky, "Don't hold back. No one can hear us outside."
The bedside lamp was still on.
Harper stared with wide eyes, acutely aware of what he was doing.
Her heart thumped, hammering against the inner walls of her chest, threatening to burst through.
Her hand against Francis's chest turned from resisting to clinging tightly, "We can't, not here... it's not right..."
In the sanctity of a hospital room, in a place that should emanate nothing but purity and healing.
Yet here he was, sending her pulse racing and cheeks flushing with actions so intimate, so startling in such a setting.
Harper resisted fiercely, but she was no match for his soothing whispers, "Just making you happy..." Her face beamed with an endless blush, and the light in her eyes shimmered uncontrollably.
Two years into their marriage, they had never had a moment quite like this.
As the room spun gently around her, Harper thought that perhaps because he was her only one, his touch was overwhelmingly irresistible.
...
Once the moment had passed, Harper practically fled from the bed. She didn't dare to look back as she escaped to the bathroom and shut the door with a "bang."
Francis's gaze darkened as he nonchalantly wiped his hands clean with a moist towelette.
There she was, dealing with the aftermath, while he hadn't gotten his satisfaction...
When Harper emerged from the bathroom, she couldn't bring herself to face that bed again.
"Come here," he commanded as she hesitated, his eyes dimming.
Harper stammered, "I–I'm not sleepy yet, you go ahead."
"So, you're just going to walk away after having fun?" His words were crude, entirely at odds with his usually restrained demeanor.
Her already flushed face, cooled briefly by the cold water, turned redder still. She was rooted in a limbo of indecision.
Francis wasn't rushing her. Leaning back on the bed with a lazy look, he teased, "Do I look like I can keep going?"
Without overthinking, Harper's embarrassment faded slightly. After all, they were still husband and wife. Sharing a bed was not a breach of morality.
Besides, Francis was injured, and she was pregnant—it wouldn't make any sense for her to spend the night on a chair.
When she finally got into bed, he pulled her close and asked, "Did you enjoy it earlier?" His voice was low, laden with desire.
The question set her cheeks aflame.
She gripped the blanket tightly, clearly annoyed, "Francis, stop kidding around."
He chuckled softly, "After all the fun I've brought you, don't you think you owe me some form of acknowledgment? What should you be calling me?"
Harper knew what he wanted to hear but found herself unable to say it. What were they to each other at this point?
"I'm tired," she feigned drowsiness.
His hand stiffened around her waist, the warmth of his body seemingly retreating. She didn't need to look to know that he was upset, yet she couldn't bring herself to face him.
She was afraid.
Just a touch of kindness from Francis was enough to make her heart flutter uncontrollably.
There was a saying that fit her current state perfectly. "Out of sight, out of mind." She feared that the feelings she had managed to suppress might resurface...
The transition from hope to despair was something she didn't want to experience ever again.
Perhaps it was just the weight of the day's events that was too much to bear.
After relaxing, Harper was so exhausted that she fell asleep in no time.
Francis, still harboring a hint of irritation, found his anger subsiding as his object of annoyance succumbed to sleep so quickly. He realized there was no point in staying mad.
Asleep, Harper held onto him tightly, her lips slightly parted. On her fair collarbone was the mark he had left, making her look irresistibly alluring.
Francis's jaw tensed, feeling a sudden restlessness. It seemed like he was just torturing himself.
He pulled her closer and nibbled on her earlobe, which made her stir but not wake.
He was patient—one nibble after another.
Finally, Harper woke up, her eyes, moist and dazed, opened, still lost in the remnants of a dream.
Francis stopped biting and began to suck on her earlobe softly, his voice a husky murmur, "You've had fun. Will you take care of my needs, hmm?"
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