The white shirt instantly turned transparent, faintly revealing his chiseled muscles. A hint of his chest was exposed, an exceptionally tempting sight.
Claire Sinclair’s blood ran hot at the sight. Her face flushed, and she quickly averted her gaze, whispering, "We’re about to get divorced. Please don’t—mmph..."
Before she could finish speaking, the man suddenly lowered his head and fiercely claid her lips.
Just as the situation was about to spiral completely out of control, the man suddenly leaned close to her ear, his voice hoarse and captivating. "You want a divorce? Unless I’m dead, don’t even dream of it."
With that, the man reached out and tore off the girl’s soaked clothes.
’If tomorrow were the end of the world, he would rather die in her arms this very mont, but he would still make love to her with wild abandon.’
...
Claire Sinclair didn’t rember how she had fallen asleep. When she woke up, the sky was completely dark. The bedroom lights were off. She was the only one in bed, and the room was filled with a sensual aroma.
She sat up abruptly, leaned over to switch on the bedside lamp, and quickly scanned the vast bedroom.
It was empty. He wasn’t here.
’It felt as if the earlier passion had been a solo affair, unreal as a dream. Now that she had awoken, everything was peaceful again, yet she could clearly feel the discomfort throughout her body.’
’Especially the ache between her legs, a reminder that it wasn’t a dream. It was the evidence he had left behind, proof that it had all been real.’
’How could he do this to her...’
’And how could *she* have responded to him like that?’
’This was wrong. They were about to get a divorce, how could they still be intimate?’
Claire Sinclair drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in them, her emotions in a complete tangle.
At that mont, the bathroom door suddenly opened.
Adrian Quincy erged from the bathroom in a bathrobe. He walked to the bed and sat down beside her.
Claire Sinclair slowly raised her head, her eyes unintentionally eting the man’s gentle gaze. Her heart trembled for no reason, just like the first ti it had ever fluttered for him, a feeling she couldn’t escape.
The daze lasted only a mont before she snapped back to reality and hastily averted her gaze.
Seeing the rejection in her eyes, Adrian Quincy felt a pang of hurt, but he forced himself to remain composed. He gently pulled her into his embrace and whispered in her ear, "You must be exhausted. Get dressed first, and I’ll take you downstairs for sothing to eat."
The words were barely out of his mouth when she suddenly raised a hand to grip one of his, saying urgently, "About Teacher Hartwell’s situation—"
"He’s not in any trouble. I don’t need to intervene."
"Then why did he ask to beg you to bail him out?"
That was a question Adrian Quincy wanted to ask her as well.
Suddenly, it dawned on Claire Sinclair. She smacked her own forehead in frustration. "I get it now! Teacher Hartwell tricked again!"
Adrian Quincy gently pulled her hand down, his face a mask of suppressed laughter.
Claire Sinclair blushed, her eyes filled with chagrin. "Go ahead and laugh. I’m used to you people tricking , anyway."
"Claire, I’m not laughing at you."
"But you’re obviously laughing on the inside..."
"I’m not."
"You are too..."
Seeing her sullen expression, Adrian Quincy decided to give in. He nodded. "Okay, fine. I was."
Claire Sinclair shot her head up and said resentfully, "I’m in no mood to joke around. You’re all rotten to the core, all you do is trick ! Am I that easy to fool?"
"It was my fault for tricking you into marriage, but you stole my heart. So, we’re even."
"..." ’What could she possibly say to that?’
Adrian Quincy held her gently, pleading in a low voice, "Claire, even if you feel just the slightest spark for , don’t divorce . I’m not greedy. Just a little is enough to last a lifeti."
"..." ’What was with this tone, simultaneously teasing and pleading?!’
’Great Demon King Quincy, what happened to your pride and precious dignity?!’
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