Chapter 93 Making Love in the Bathtub
Elizabeth barely had time to react before Michael had her pinned against the edge of the bathtub.
Her left hand gripped the tub's edge, while the other pressed against Michael's chest, feeling his strong muscles.
Startled, she quickly pulled her hand back, but Michael wasn't letting her go.
He took her right hand and wrapped it around his neck.
With one hand supporting the back of her neck and the other lifting her body, he kissed her hard.
His kiss was urgent, filled with pent-up emotions.
It had been ages since he last made love to Elizabeth.
He missed her sweet kisses, her scent, the feel of her skin, and the satisfaction of being with her.
Michael deepened the kiss, his eyes closed, lashes trembling as he kissed her with devotion.
His left hand held her neck tightly, while his right hand supported her back, pressing her chest against his bare skin through her clothes.
He pressed his body closely against hers, wishing he could merge her into himself.
In the slippery bathtub, Elizabeth couldn't support herself and clung tightly to Michael. Her soaking wet clothes left her completely exposed in front of him.
Their bodies were so close, she could feel the strength of his erection pressing against her abdomen, like a fire burning there.
Michael lifted her up, unable to bear it any longer, and with a forceful tug, he tore open her shirt.
Buttons popped off and scattered everywhere.
He quickly removed her shirt, squatted down, and pulled off her pants and underwear in one swift motion.
Her wet clothes made it difficult, but his impatient hands easily tackled this question.
He tossed her wet clothes into the laundry basket and carried her back into the bathtub.
Once again, they were naked in front of each other, and Elizabeth still felt embarrassed.
She turned away, but Michael, breathing heavily, turned her back around and kissed her fiercely again.
He supported the back of her head with one arm, while the other hand caressed her breast.
Under his touch, Elizabeth began to moan with pleasure.
Michael's fingers gently explored her lower body. Unable to wait any longer, he lifted her hips and entered her with a hard thrust.
His sudden entry made her let out a muffled groan, her moans swallowed by his mouth.
Michael kept thrusting, the water in the bathtub swaying with their fierce movements and spilling out.
What once submerged their bodies now only reached Elizabeth's chest.
She felt her breasts being constantly slapped by the waves, the experience stimulating her brain.
Her legs wrapped around Michael's waist, her hands climbing up to his neck.
In the constantly moving water, she painfully yet pleasurably enjoyed his caresses and thrusts.
Her initially passive kiss turned into an active one, deepening the kiss.
Her flexible and sweet tongue explored his mouth, lightly licking his teeth and tangling with his tongue.
Elizabeth's initiative made Michael's thrusts even more intense.
Her louder moans only fueled his pleasure.
Suddenly, he turned her around, making her kneel in the bathtub, and entered her from behind.
With Michael's vigorous movements, water splashed everywhere, spilling over the edge and making the bathroom floor slippery.
Finally, with a few hard thrusts, Michael let out a low growl and released inside her.
Exhausted, Elizabeth slid into the bathtub, but Michael quickly scooped her up.
He helped her stand and opened the drain, letting the now-cool water out.
Michael carried her back into the tub, took the showerhead, and gently rinsed her body.
Elizabeth lay on the edge of the tub, eyes closed, completely spent, letting Michael wash her.
After washing her, Michael sat back in the tub and gently kissed her lips.
Elizabeth let out a muffled groan.
Michael whispered in her ear, "Now, it's your turn to help me with my bath."
Too tired to even open her eyes, she said irritably, "If you're so energetic, wash yourself. I'm exhausted."
Michael grabbed her hand and rubbed body wash on himself.
Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh in exasperation. "Michael! Isn't this redundant?"
He cooed, "What else can I do? Someone said she'd help me with my bath, but she didn't move at all. So I had to do this."
With no choice, Elizabeth picked up the showerhead and rinsed the foam off him, despite her soreness.
After they finished bathing, Michael lifted her out of the tub and gently dried her with a towel. He sat back in his wheelchair and then lifted her onto his lap.
Elizabeth leaned against him, and he lovingly kissed her forehead.
Sitting on the bed, she just wanted to fall asleep. She mumbled, "I thought you were sick and weak, but you had so much strength."
Michael gently lifted her. He turned on the hairdryer, ran his large hand through her hair, and helped her dry it.
His movements were so gentle that Elizabeth, already drowsy from her pregnancy and the intense activity, quickly fell asleep.
Michael turned off the hairdryer, looked at the sleeping Elizabeth, and pulled the blanket over her.
His phone screen lit up with a call from his subordinate.
Michael answered, his voice no longer gentle but carrying a terrifying sense of oppression. "Speak."
"Mr. Thomas, the people from last night have confessed," the subordinate said.
"Who did it?" Michael asked.
"They said it was Patricia who ordered them," the subordinate replied.
"Patricia?" Michael frowned.
"Yes, Anthony's current girlfriend, Mrs. Thomas's half-sister," the subordinate replied.
Michael finally remembered who Patricia was. He had seen her once by chance. She was always fawning over Anthony, clearly not someone capable of such actions.
"Keep investigating. Find Patricia. Keep an eye on Anthony. Patricia has no grudge against me and wouldn't go to such lengths. Check if Anthony has something to do with this. If Anthony could try to kill me once, he could do it a second or third time."
The subordinate continued to ask, "Mr. Thomas, what should we do with Patricia? Send her to the police or kill her?"
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