Mr. Crawford had just taken a cold shower, but now her glance makes him feel like he needs another one.
He never admits to indulging in beauty or being lost in desire, but at this mont, he’s having so doubts about himself.
Mr. Crawford bent down to kiss her hair, enchanted by her sweet scent, "Should I help you with the sanitary pads?"
Serena Sterling was taken aback; could such a powerful man in the business world actually stoop to dealing with won’s sanitary pads?
Will he?
"Uh, no need..."
"Then do you want to help with the washing?"
Washing what?
Underwear?
In Serena’s mind flashed an image of her tiny panties being scrubbed in his palm, mortifying.
"I don’t need you washing my underwear!" Blushing, she refused, but deep down she felt sweet; this man seed quite considerate.
Mr. Crawford brushed her cheek with his lips, "Serena, are you overthinking this?"
The woman’s delicate face grew red as an apple, tempting one to take a bite; she questioned, "What?"
"There’s more than underwear that needs washing... Unless, you don’t want to take a shower, I can help you..."
"..."
Serena spent several seconds to realize his implication; he didn’t an washing her underwear, but rather... showering together.
All earlier sweetness vanished, she quickly sat up from the bed, and swung her small fists at him.
Shaless scoundrel, big jerk!
Incredibly lustful guy!
Mr. Crawford caught her tiny fists in his palm, amused, "Sotis overthinking is simply self-inflicted affection; your panties got stained with blood, washing might not clean them, just toss them—I’ll buy you new ones."
Serena was dumbstruck; she had never seen a man offer to buy new panties with such grandiosity as if offering jewels and diamonds!
Serena wished she could scratch his handso face, her clear eyes glistening with tears, pouting irritably, "Other n buy won jewels and diamonds, Mr. Crawford buys new panties. Should I say thank you?"
Mr. Crawford knew she was upset; her kitten-like tantrum was utterly charming. He swiftly stood up, tall and upright by the bed, earnestly looking at her, extending his hand, "Do you really want to wash your panties? It’s not impossible but for a man to wash a woman’s panties, she’d have to take them off in front of him first. Serena, take them off now, I’ll wash them for you."
"..."
Serena’s face turned crimson, fine, enough, she admitted defeat; she would never outmatch this man.
Her actions spoke for her; she jumped off the bed and ran into the bathroom.
She wouldn’t fall for his trick!
...
Serena showered, changed into clean clothes, and then left the house.
In the room, Mr. Crawford sat tall beside the bed, holding a small spoon, stirring brown sugar water.
"You’re just in ti, drink the brown sugar water."
Serena climbed onto the bed, her little head leaning close to sll it with her petite nose, then disdainfully furrowed her brows.
She disliked brown sugar water.
Mr. Crawford leaned his tall fra against the bedhead, wrapped his arm around her slender waist, pressing a warm water bag against her, coaxing softly, "Pinch your nose and drink; your stomach will feel better."
Serena pouted, then took two sips of brown sugar water from his big hand.
"It tastes awful, I’m not drinking anymore."
Mr. Crawford regarded her delicate appearance, "Co on, drink a bit more."
Serena pushed his hand away, "I’m not drinking. Do you know how awful brown sugar water tastes... oo!"
Her lips were suddenly sealed shut.
A few minutes later, Mr. Crawford ended the deep kiss, his voice husky, "It’s not that bad."
"..."
Two soft white hands pressed against his firm chest, attempting to push him away, but he fed her another mouthful of brown sugar water deeply, forcing her to swallow.
Serena was firmly pinned down by him with not an inch left to resist; soon, her mouth was filled with the slight taste of brown sugar water, but more so his clean, invigorating masculine scent—damn it... slled good.
A cup of brown sugar water was completely consud, Mr. Crawford placed the empty cup on the bedside table, "If you want to feed you directly in the future, just say so."
Serena’s red cheeks were delicate enough to squeeze juice from, her tiny hands clutching the neckline of his pajamas as she puffed out her cheeks, "Finding such an elaborate reason just to kiss ."
Mr. Crawford’s gaze darkened and heatedly studied her.
Serena’s heart skipped as she realized she shouldn’t have started this.
She quickly clutched her stomach, "My tummy isn’t feeling well, I want to sleep now."
Mr. Crawford leaned over, placing his hand wrapped around the warm water bag on her belly, warning darkly, "Behave, don’t provoke!"
"I did not, it’s you..."
"What’s wrong with taking a tiny advantage of you, endure it, understand?"
"..."
Mr. Crawford felt particularly frustrated; she had been gone for several days without even a ssage. He eagerly awaited her return, watching till midnight just to rush over, intending to spend so quality ti together.
This room was already booked, yet all he could do was chat with her under the covers!
Serena dared not move, nor provoke him, fearing his loss of control.
Mr. Crawford knitted his handso brows and kissed her again, his hand slipping beneath her sleeping gown...
He inadvertently hurt her.
Serena quickly frowned but dared not utter a sound, enduring aggrievedly.
Suddenly, abnormal sounds began to emanate from the next room, male and female voices intertwined, making anyone’s face blush.
Due to this hotel’s lack of quality, the soundproofing was poor, quickly transmitting suggestive noises from the adjacent room.
Serena shivered slightly and glanced at the man on top of her.
Mr. Crawford’s handso face had already darkened completely; the neighbors must be doing this intentionally.
He reached out and grabbed sothing to bang forcefully against the wall.
Thud, a sound.
The noise from the next room quickly reduced.
Serena couldn’t hold back, curling her lips into a smile.
Mr. Crawford pinched her soft waist, "What are you laughing at? Don’t laugh!"
"Okay." Serena stifled it, but after a while, she laughed again.
Mr. Crawford was about to give her a proper scolding when suddenly his phone began to ring lodically; he had gotten a call.
This late, soone was actually calling him.
"Mr. Crawford, your phone’s ringing."
"Ignore it."
Serena grinned at him, "Mr. Crawford, is this call from Caroline Sloan?"
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