She continued thrashing around violently in Weston’s arms.
He held her even tighter in his arms and didn’t say a word but continued kissing her with abandon.
He kissed her so hard and so intently as if he didn’t want to know what Stella really wanted to say. He
kissed her single-mindedly with the goal of making her forget about everything else.
Stella punched his shoulders hard.
In turn, he pried her mouth open and soaked in her essence, until his jaw felt sore, which was when he
slowly began releasing her.
Stella felt the air leaving her lungs as she slowly stopped resisting and sunk into his embrace. Her eyes
looked soulless as she simply let him be.
Weston sensed that she had stopped struggling and became gentler with her.
The fearsome biting and tugging ritual slowly melted into soft, tender kisses.
His violent over burst was reined in, and she felt he was treating her like a precious treasure.
Stella remained in his arms as her strength left her body. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she tried
desperately to swallow them.
A tear rolled down her cheeks into the corner of her mouth. Her eyes and the tip of her nose were red,
making her look poignantly hopeless.
The look on her face made Weston stop whatever he was doing.
He leaned his forehead against hers, still panting as he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers and
apologized hoarsely.
He had lost control of himself.
He instinctively wanted to coax her, but the cold look on her face and the thought of her ignoring him
earlier and wanting a fresh start with another man made it a behavior he was unable to accept.
The annoyance and frustration brewing inside him made him lose all his senses. He only had one
thought: To kiss and possess her to rid her of all those nonsensical thoughts.
But what he did had clearly hurt her.
Weston rubbed her nose affectionately with his and apologized quietly. “I’m sorry.” Stella’s eyes looked
vacant and soulless, and his apology elicited no response from her.
A moment later, she looked up at the man before her.” Can’t you just stay by Guinevere’s side?”
Why must he come looking for her and bother her? Why must he torture her?
Isn’t it good that he and Guinevere remained together?
They were a match made in heaven. Why must he force her?
Stella had never been to this apartment before.
She sat on the couch with warm tea in her hands, but she didn’t drink it and didn’t say a word. With her
head slung low, she remained completely silent.
She had been to Weston’s Golden Eve Apartment, and the furnishing here was similarly cold and
minimalistic as if it had been newly refurbished.
Weston walked over from the counter and sat down opposite her. He was silent as well as he poured
himself a glass of champagne. He swirled it and took a sip. He leaned back against the couch, the first
two buttons of his shirt undone because of Stella’s struggle from earlier. His outstretched arms made
the top of his shirt open up to reveal his chest.
His tanned chest had scratch marks on them, a clear indication of Stella’s violent resistance against
him just now.
A long while later, the air between them finally relaxed.
Stella took a deep breath and said hoarsely, “Can I go now?”
Weston sipped his wine and said, “Stay here until you’re done throwing a tantrum.”
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