Chapter 223


    Physical intimacy was a pretty strange act. I did not like the feeling at the beginning, but as things


    progressed I grew to like it. However, it gradually made me ufortable again. Yet, Christopher was


    still angry at me. He kept on biting my sensitive skin, demanding me to admit my mistake.


    In the end, I could not bear it anymore. I burst into tears, but my wailing did nothing to quell the beast


    within him. Instead, it somehow spiced up our little sport. It did not stop him from pursuing his own


    release.


    Right then, I came to aplete understanding of Christopher’s terrifying physical prowess. I was


    exhausted from all the action, having lost every bit of strength that the only thing I could do was


    breathe. Sleep overtook me eventually.


    In a daze, I felt a hand stroking my face, and then my back. It offered a cooling touch. Christopher must


    be changing my bandages. When he began massaging my ankle, I finally managed to open my tired


    eyes.


    “You’re awake?” The man leaned over to check on me, his face sullen. I noticed his hair was wet.


    Deep down, I was still mad at him, so I yelled, “Just so you can continue!”


    “Do you have to be like this?” Christopher’s face darkened.


    “That’s the way I am. Do you have a problem with it?” I turned my head away because I did not want to


    look at him.


    “I swear, one of these days I’ll break that attitude of yours!” Christopher let out a low growl as he lifted


    the covers and got on top of me again. I tried to struggle, but it had little effect on him. To a strong man


    like him, it was nothing more than a tickle or an itch.


    With no way out, I looked up at the ceiling and bit my lips. asionally, when it got too painful, I let out


    a whimper. It turned out that exhaustion could offset every single shred of joy, just like what I was


    experiencing then. Christopher and I had merged into one, but all I wanted to do was close my eyes


    and get a good night’s sleep.


    In ancient times, this would be considered a kind of torture. They would keep the prisoner awake,


    prevent them from falling sleeping. Even if they wanted to, they would be woken. It was a form of


    mental torture. Christopher was definitely a jack-of-all-trades. Sometimeter, I fainted again.


    Belongs to (N)?vel/Drama.Org.


    We did not reconcile. When I woke up, Christopher charged at me again. It was madness! I did not


    know how many days had passed, but we kept on going for some time, only stopping for food and to


    use the toilet. Other than those, I basically never left the luxurious bed. Christopher seemed to dedicate


    all his energy to be spent in these few, short days, and every time he would not stop until he had


    stripped me of my consciousness.


    Ring… Ring…


    I woke up to the sounds of the wind chimes hanging from the window. When I opened my eyes, I felt


    odd. My body was in an erratic state — it did not feel like it was mine. Even the simplest action of


    peeling off the covers took a ton of effort.


    “I’ve made some soup for you. It’s still hot. You should have some.” Christopher walked over to me and


    propped me up so that I was leaning against the headboard. When his broad hands wrapped around


    my feet, I flinched out of reflex.


    He chuckled when he saw my reaction. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson. I thought I could never


    tame you.”


    Devoid of energy, I just red at him. “It’s none of your business!”


    “Huh, I guess you haven’t.” Christopher knitted his eyebrows, looking equally troubled and defeated. A


    bitter smile crossed his face as he sighed. Holding me in his arms, he said, “Is it really that hard to say


    you’re sorry?”


    Clinging onto him, tears escaped my eyes. I could no longer hold them back. I had always been a


    sucker for the gentle approach. When Christopher chided me, I was adamant that I had done nothing


    wrong. Once his tone softened, even slightly, all my grievances poured out like a raging river, as though


    I had just found an exit.


    “I was wrong, okay. Christopher, I was wrong,” I whimpered. “Don’t stay mad at me. Can you do that?


    I’m scared… I’m scared that you don’t care about me anymore.”


    “Silly girl!” The man pressed his forehead on mine and gently wiped away my tears. “Do you know how


    scared I was that day when I witnessed that man stab you with that sharp knife? Any closer and I would


    have lost you forever.”


    “I’m so sorry! I’ve let you down.” I could not control my tears. I knew always made him worry, getting


    myself hurt in turn. It was my fault.