Prisci returned to the small bedroom. After washing up and just lying down, the door to the room opened.
Wesley tossed the key onto the table without a word, bent
down, picked Prisci up, and strode back to the master bedroom.
Prisci caught the familiar scent of his body wash.
He had taken a shower.
Almost instantly, she realized what was happening and began to struggle violently.
In a moment, she was pinned between the bedding.
Wesley kissed her forehead, then raised his hand to remove his bathrobe, revealing his lean upper body.
Prisci panted, her hands pressed against Wesley’s chest, her nightgown half open, exposing her fair skin.
Under the light, it glowed with a cold, porcin–like sheen.
That cold glow burned hot in Wesley’s eyes.
He cupped his wife’s snow–white neck and kissed her, half forcefully.
His technique was seductive enough, but Prisci couldn’t feel a thing.
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It took her only two minutes to go from struggling to calm.
Lying t, she let the man do as he pleased, but gave no
response.
Soon, Wesley stopped.
In matters like this, if one side is cold, the other quickly loses interest.
Wesley knew the reason. His movements became gentle again as he kissed the corner of his wife’s lips and coaxed softly, “Prisci, let’s have a child.”
With a child, she wouldn’t let her mind wander because of another woman, nor would she think about developing her
career.
Her thoughts would be at home, being his Mrs. Carlton.
Prisci stared nkly at the ceiling, never having found the light so ring, so piercing that she wanted to cry.
She blinked, her face full of a mocking, cold smile.
“Wesley, you want to have a child with me for Larissa’s sake?”
How could she not see through his intentions? He wanted to use a child to tie her down, so Larissa would have nothing to worry about.
The passion in Wesley’s body faded awaypletely.
His eyes were deep, focused, and tender. His voice was as serious as if he were making a vow. “What I want is a child with you, Prisci. It has nothing to do with Larissa.”
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Prisci acted as if she hadn’t seen the affection in Wesley’s
eyes.
Her tears sparkled and shattered under the light. “Wesley, I can’t have children anymore.”
Wesley didn’t believe her.
He thought his wife was still angry and was using this as an excuse to brush him off.
He grew angry.
“I showed you the surveince footage. Larissa never mentioned the form to the other party from start to finish, and privately, she had no further contact with them.”
“What more do you want?”
Wesley’s impatience was so obvious.
Prisci wiped away her tears, straightened her clothes, and
climbed off the bed.
As soon as one foot touched the floor, her husband’s arm reached over, encircling her slender waist and pulling her back into his embrace.
Wesley’s gaze was cold as he said, “I’ve already told Grandpa in front of everyone that you’re pregnant.”
So this child had to be conceived.
Prisci replied coldly, “I told you, I can’t have children.”
It wasn’t that she wouldn’t, but that she couldn’t.
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Wesley twisted her hands behind her back, pressing close to her, his voice deep and icy: “If we don’t do it, of course you can’t have a child.”
Prisci’s heart was riddled with wounds.
No matter what she said, he didn’t believe her.
“Wesley.” Her voice was sharp, her eyes red. “Dr. Thompson said…”
The rest of her words were swallowed by Wesley.
He pinned her wrists, kissed her forcefully, silencing all the unpleasant words.
Prisci clenched her teeth tightly, refusing to give in.
Wesley was extremely familiar with his wife’s body; he had plenty of ways.
Before, he had only refrained from being too rough with her.
When it was over, Prisciy on the pillow in a sorry state.
Wesley leaned over her again, gently biting her earlobe, holding her tightly in his arms, lingering over and over.
Prisci felt as if she died a little each time.
At dawn, Wesley got out of bed.
He casually put on a shirt and trousers and went downstairs.
The servants were preparing breakfast and greeted him respectfully: “Sir.”
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Wesley instructed, “Elijah will bring some herbal medicine.ter. Brew it for Prisci and make sure she drinks it.”
The prescription for nourishing the body and promoting fertility was specially written by a renowned doctor Elijah had found at his request.
He was looking forward to the arrival of a child.
When Prisci woke up, her whole body was unbearably sore and weak.
She pulled back the covers and looked at her body. Even though she had washed, the marks were still ringly
obvious.
Furious, she threw the pillow.