Whirlwind Marriage: My Possessive CEO's Undying Pampering-Chapter 819 - 818: The More You Resist, the More Excited I Get (Part 1)

"Mmm, it hurts..."

Eva Nightingale was in a daze from sleep, suddenly feeling a shadow pressing down on her so heavily she could hardly breathe. The lips against hers carried a familiar and magnetic taste, invading her mouth. With a hiss, the other person bit down, filling her mouth with the taste of blood.

The pain woke her completely.

She raised her hand to push the man off: "You... you’re hurting me..."

The man’s ravaging movements paused abruptly, his dark eyes staring at her intently.

"Sorry..."

His thin lips exuded the aroma of red wine mixed with magnetic hormones.

Wine, the taste of wine.

In her shock, Eva stared at the man on top of her: "Crown Prince... why are you here, am I dreaming?"

She wasn’t supposed to be in Eastern Europe, right? She hadn’t seen him for so long.

How did he suddenly appear in her room, pressing down on her? Had he forgotten about their cold war? Afraid he might harm the baby in her belly, she gently pushed the man, trying to make him get up and leave: "Hey. You’re going to crush it—"

"Let go of me..."

"Sorry..." He had drunk too much, unable to resist his longing for her, so he had sneaked back into her bedroom. Feeling her push against him, he spoke an apology but then let his deep, narrow eyes fall hotly on her face.

"Uh..." Eva’s mind struggled to piece together why he would be in Eastern Europe, or why he’d be in her room.

"Don’t resist, the more you resist... the more excited I get." The man’s hoarse voice fell, and his warm tongue began to wander over her skin, sending shivers through her.

"Mmm... ah..." She moaned softly, finally realizing he was drunk. As long as they had known each other, she’d never seen him drunk before—his domineering air was undiminished.

There was no time to wonder why he was in her room, nor time to question why in the dead of night he was holding her and biting her.

Fearing he might harm the baby inside her, she reached out to push against his chest: "Mr. President, please get up, you’re going to hurt me—"

Lucas Knight was truly drunk, his tall body enveloping her, holding her as if reluctant to let go, his domineering aura unchanged: "Baby, didn’t you want freedom...? I’ll give it to you, I’ll give it to you..."

"Let me hold you."

"Just one hug... I won’t do anything to you..."

For some reason, the more she resisted, the more excited he became.

He wanted her to be obedient and remain still.

"Not do anything?" Really! Her clothes were off, yet he said he wasn’t doing anything... He reeked of alcohol, a smell she didn’t find unpleasant—in fact, it was maddeningly enticing.

The pain in Eva’s mouth made her suddenly realize all of this wasn’t a dream; the man on top of her was very real.

"Mmm, don’t move, or I’ll get more excited..." he ordered, holding her tightly.

Eva’s face flushed: "What do you mean excited!" He was pressing down on her, not afraid of crushing the little baby inside?

Forget it; realizing he was too drunk, she didn’t reason with him anymore and pushed him again, genuinely worried he would crush the baby inside her.

"Let me go mmm."

"Oh." He released her, his tall, sturdy frame standing upright, pausing for two seconds with a sense of being rejected.

He disliked that feeling of rejection; his phoenix eyes shimmered dangerously as he looked at her, his thin lips parting to drunkenly declare, "Little woman, behave, or I’ll fuck you to death!"