Chapter 46 Troublesome

Medson had not expressed his feelings for her yet, so he was thinking of using her illness as an opportunity to show his sincerity and deepen their connection. During the peak period of budding affection between a man and a woman, one person suffered while the other provided attentive care by their side. But Maggie did not deny it. She had someone by her side now, making this approach inappropriate.
Medson, being an experienced news editor, had seen and heard a lot. Harold's background was unknown, but his demeanor was extraordinary, somewhere between calmness and grandeur.
He had an invisible intimidating presence.
He tightly curled his fingers and rushed out, knocking over the nurse's tray filled with medicine. There was a burst of exclamations in the corridor.
Maggie watched his reckless behavior and frowned.
"If you can't bear it, let him come back." Harold's tone became cold and sinister, bringing her back to reality.
"I don't, he's just a colleague."
He approached, grabbed her waist, pinned her to the bed, and leaned over, his bones as strong as raging fire, his body temperature scorching hot.
He firmly pressed against her, causing pain in her chest. "Are you happy? I am here." He pecked at her with intermittent kisses.
Maggie had concerns. She turned her head and pushed him away. "Don't get close to me, I might infect you..."
Her resistance was weak, turning into some kind of flirting.
Harold kissed her more passionately, exchanging saliva between their lips and teeth, but still feeling dryness in his mouth. The sucking force became stronger and stronger, and his words became muffled. "I'm not as delicate as you're."
Maggie's head was dizzy from the kisses. Her eyes shone and her gentle and obedient demeanor pleased him greatly.
Harold brushed aside the hair from her forehead and repeated, "Are you happy?"
Maggie stared at him, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, I am happy."
During these two days apart, she didn't even make a phone call. Men were often most controlled by their emotions.
Her affection, just like her whole self, was light and soft, always a step behind, teasing him, tempting him, wanting more, sinking deeper. T
he lips separated, then the next second they crazily kissed again. Her long hair scattered on the bed, the buttons on her patient gown undone, revealing emptiness inside, and her rosy nipples were partly exposed in the air, as alluring as roses.
Harold stirred up the evil fire in his lower abdomen, surging desire. He hid the spark in the palm of his hand, ventured between her legs, and wherever he touched, it ignited a fervor where no grass could grow.
His fingertips skillfully flicked up and down, with just the right amount of pressure. Maggie's whole body felt hot and restless, and her sensitive pearl was stretched and itched.
Her cheeks flushed with a blush, and she couldn't help but moan, only to have her buttocks pinched harshly.
"No noise allowed."
He simply took off her panties.
Maggie's buttocks nestled near her tailbone. Next, there was a purple needle mark that couldn't be pierced while she got intravenous infusion. In order to reduce the fever, she got an injection. It was striking against her snow-white skin. Harold pecked at that spot, then bit into her buttock leaving a distinct red mark.
She was very sensitive and couldn't bear it.
Her legs were forcefully spread apart, and before the man's fingers even entered, a small stream of lewd fluid mixed with a few traces of blood flowed out, dripping between his fingers.
Harold was momentarily shocked. The motion of undoing his belt buckle stopped, and his voice sounded hoarse and heavy, grinding against her ear, "Hey, Maggie, you're always causing troubles."
She didn't keep track of her menstrual cycle and it happened to be those two days.
She had been caught in two consecutive rains before falling ill.
The nurse brought her sanitary pads to change. Maggie adjusted her pants, pulled aside the curtains between the two beds, and lay on her side. "Will I delay your work?"
Harold lay in the empty clinical bed, with his arm as a pillow behind his head, opening and closing his lighter as flames shot up and then extinguished. "Don't worry about it."
The words sounded easy, but in the meantime, he got up, holding his phone, leaning against the window sill to smoke. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing slender and prominent inner arm veins. Maggie became drowsy after taking the medicine.
In a daze, she heard him answer several phone calls, short in duration and sparse in words, but very intense.
In the late night, heavy rain poured down, thunder rolled incessantly, and a lightning bolt struck a certain spot in the stretch of mountains, sending out countless sparks.
Maggie was awakened and her forehead was covered in sweat.
She got up, pulled open the neighboring bed's blanket, and nestled into Harold's embrace. The hospital bed was not big, and she pushed in with some force, causing the bed to shake.
Harold was half-dreaming and half-awake. He opened a narrow black eye slit and realized it was her. He didn't move, and Maggie raised her hand to help him close his eyes, speaking, "It's nothing."
She held him tightly, able to smell the faint fragrance on his clothes. His chest, encased in a shirt, was broad, firm, and strong. His heartbeat was vigorous, invincible, able to shield her from countless storms.