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Chapter 74 - 74- we’re married
"Cynthia, we're married. It's perfectly normal to do this..."
Knowing that she was resistant towards him, he kissed her while softly coaxing her in her ear, trying to hypnotize her.
God knows how much he craved her body since their last passionate seven days together. But every time he saw her cold, distant expression towards him, all his desire was instantly extinguished.
His pride, so high and mighty, never allowed him to lower himself, never allowed him to take the initiative to approach her. He, Albert Wilson, could never be desperate enough to force a woman, especially when that woman was his legally wedded wife. If word got out, where would his face go?
If it weren't for his father's unintentional pressure this time, he might never have had such a warm and harmonious moment with her—harmonious enough to make him forget all the burdens he carried, harmonious enough that he wished it could last forever.
Indeed, as soon as his lips touched her, she couldn't help but tremble, a soft moan escaping her lips.
"Albert—"
He kissed her lovingly, his large hands familiarly teasing the equally sensitive parts of her body patiently waiting for her acceptance, she was a little confused in the wave of strange yet familiar excitement, and could only helplessly cling to him for a source to rely on from him.
He slowly parted her legs to place his burning heat against her softness, entered her deeply with a single thrust, then leaned down to take her small mouth when she frowned in discomfort, and
'Good girl, from now on ... call me Albert on weekdays too, remember?'
She was bewildered and did not know how to answer, she up to now would not be able to help but call him Albert in the thick of it, all because of the pain and suffering of his first time, she subconsciously thought that she called him Albert and he would mercifully let her go.
When she didn't answer, he moved in and out of her body one at a time with great patience, and Cynthia mentally struggled with how she could call him Albert on a regular basis. They weren't sweet lovers, they weren't a couple in love, so why did they have to call him so intimately?
She didn't understand this man, yet she knew that she couldn't resist the feeling of a ** warring that he ignited inside her, so she could only helplessly climb on his sturdy shoulders, then nod her head to agree to his request before the excitement came.
Since it had been too long since she had experienced lovemaking, her body was still a little tight, and initially she only pinched him tightly and cried out in pain, a discovery that made Albert Wilson arched his eyebrows and hooked his thin lips in satisfaction.
From start to finish, she was always Albert Wilson's woman. Even though she had loved Vincent so deeply during those years, Vincent never truly had her.
Should he thank Vincent now? Thank him for guarding her so perfectly, allowing her to show all her innocence and shyness only to him?
Cynthia was lost in the kiss, her mind hazy. She knew she should push him away, but the emptiness inside her made her involuntarily hold him even tighter.
It wasn't until many years later that Cynthia understood—when you give your body to a man, it doesn't matter how skilled he is, or whether you were strangers before. Each act of giving yourself away carries a deep, hidden affection.
He had longed for her for months. After finally getting what he wanted, how could he not savor it properly? It felt like a lion, starved for many days, suddenly having a lamb thrown at him. He devoured her completely, leaving nothing behind.
The next day, Cynthia slept deeply, while the man, exhausted from days of travel and the relentless "tilling" from the night before, found himself unable to wake up.
Later, Cynthia was woken by the incessant ringing of her phone. Groggily, she reached for her phone on the nightstand and heard a man's low muttering behind her. Annoyed, she tapped her forehead. Somehow, she had been swept into his charm again and ended up tangled with him once more.
The call was from Marc, asking if she had time to come over today, as the children were eager to wish her a Happy New Year. That's when she remembered she still had to go to the orphanage and hurriedly told Marc she'd be there soon.
After hanging up, she began getting dressed, but a strong arm reached around her and pulled her into his chest.
"Where are you going?"
His deep voice was filled with the lazy grogginess of someone just waking up.
She blushed as she landed against his strong chest and nervously looked up into his half-closed black eyes. With a cautious tone, she said, "The orphanage..."
Somehow, he knew about her involvement with the orphanage, yet he didn't ask too many questions, which made her feel like a time bomb was ticking in her chest.
"Sleep a bit more! We'll go together later!"
Albert Wilson closed his eyes as he spoke, then clearly felt the little woman on him tremble. Was he really that terrifying?
Cynthia stared at his face, pretending to be asleep, in shock. He wanted to go too? What was he doing, trying to join the fun? With his cold demeanor, would he end up scaring the children at the orphanage?
"Have you looked enough? If not, come up and keep looking!"
His calm voice suddenly rang out, and with a strong pull, he hauled her onto his body.
She ended up lying across him, every inch of her skin pressed intimately against his—her soft chest, his firm abdomen. Her flexibility seemed to perfectly match his hardness.
An incredibly suggestive position, one where she could see him clearly, but at the same time, she keenly felt something hard pressing against her lower abdomen. Her face flushed hot, and she quickly pushed him away.
"Albert Wilson, y-you, let me down!"
His black eyes suddenly snapped open, the jewel-like black orbs flashing a dangerous warning.
"Cynthia, did you forget what you promised me the night before last?"
The damn woman, calling him by his full name again?
Cynthia's forehead twitched in annoyance as she remembered what he made her call him, muttering irritably, "Why add 'Ah' in front of a perfectly good name?"
Cynthia, Albert's—it sounded so tacky.
He just stared at her in silence, his eyes flooding with emotions she didn't understand. Later, she would realize that names starting with "Ah" always ended up at the top of the contact list in her phone.
Unable to resist his domineering ways, she ended up in his arms, sleeping again, but this time in a normal position—she had fought hard to free herself from that awkward posture.
He insisted on going with her to the orphanage. Despite her repeated refusals, he was determined to follow her, and in the end, she reluctantly agreed.
Although the orphanage was only a short walk away, he insisted on taking a taxi. She was so angry she almost cursed. Yesterday, they took a taxi to the supermarket, and today, he wanted to take one again!
And then there were the expenses for food and other things while he stayed with her—those were not small amounts either, but he had yet to contribute a single penny. What was he making all that money for?
The real problem, though, was that if he wanted a taxi, he should've hailed it himself. Instead, he stood on the side of the road like some grand figure, wearing oversized sunglasses, arrogantly leaving the task of hailing a cab to her.
After barely managing to get a taxi, the driver didn't even want to take them at the starting fare. Cynthia finally managed to get the taxi, gave the driver their destination, and he immediately gave her a disapproving look.
But when he saw the man behind her—his menacing face and cold, intimidating presence—the driver reluctantly let them in.
