Chapter 749
Andrew paused for a moment, surprised that she was not ready–not because of hesitation, but because of the location.
With a light chuckle, he gave Francesca’s soft bottom a playful pat. “Don’t move. We’ll be home soon.”
He shifted gears, released the brakes, and stepped on the gas. The G–Wagon roared to life, speeding toward the Moonlit Sanctuary estate at the top of the hill.
Francesca’s lips curled into a satisfied yet bashful smile. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she leaned forward and bit Andrew’s chest playfully. “You big pervert! You jerk!”
However, deep down, she was already scheming. ‘Lauren, you better not blame me for this. You’re the one who told me to take good care of Andrew first. Hehe… once your little purity mark is out of the way, the two of us will make sure Andrew completely surrenders!’
And so, that night, the master bedroom of Moonlit Sanctuary’s hilltop estate was anything but quiet.
Francesca, at first nervous, soon found herself completely immersed–until eventually, she was left begging for mercy, tears welling in her eyes.
The next morning, glistening dewdrops clung to the trees outside the window. Judging by the drenched branches, the storm had raged all night, only subsiding at dawn.
Inside, the scene was no different–only here, the storm had been far more intense. The air still carried the lingering warmth of last night’s passion. Clothes were scattered across the floor, evidence of the battle that had taken place.
Francesca slowly opened her sleepy, exhausted eyes. The soreness in her limbs made it almost impossible to move. She turned to the mirror, her face flushing as she examined herself.
There were marks–on her front, on her back–deep red traces of last night’s relentless conquest.
Each mark, each little “souvenir,” was proof of how thoroughly she had been broken down–only to be pieced back together again.
“That bastard… he didn’t leave a single spot untouched!” Francesca bit her lip and let out a soft, frustrated hum.
Yet, there was no anger in her expression–only the sweet, lingering warmth of satisfaction. She glanced toward the other side of the bed, only to find it empty.
From the kitchen, the soft clatter of dishes and the faint aroma of food filled the air.
Curious, Francesca tiptoed toward the door and peeked inside.
There stood Andrew, dressed in comfortable loungewear, flipping eggs in a pan. Next to him, a freshly cooked steak and a bowl of hot soup sat ready on the counter.
Andrew turned his head, catching her spying. He smirked. “You’re awake? Come eat first, then freshen up. I’ll take you to the hospital after.”
Francesca’s heart gave an unexpected thump. She blushed. “Oh, um… thanks for making breakfast, Andrew. That’s really sweet of you.”
Andrew’s smirk deepened. “Oh, I’m not the one who should be tired–you’re the one who spent the whole night begging for mercy.”
Francesca’s face turned completely red. Her sharp little teeth flashed as she glared at him. With a huff, she turned on her heel and darted back to the bedroom to get dressed.
“Jerk! Shameless pervert! You’re not gentle at all!” she muttered under her breath.
However, as she reached for her clothes, her body wobbled slightly. Her legs were sore, and just thinking about the waves of overwhelming sensation from last night made her nearly lose her balance.
She pulled her dress over her head, only to wince as a sharp ache shot through her thighs.
Francesca grumbled, “Damn it, Andrew! If I can’t even walk properly today, I’m so making you pay for this!”
Just then, her phone rang–Lauren was calling.