Don't Be a Tease, Mr. Blackwood

Chapter 97: Chapter 97: You’re Truly My Ancestor

He devoured her breath.

Sophie Shaw could barely breathe. She pushed hard against his chest with both hands.

Alaric Blackwood took the hint and pulled away. "What, you don’t like it?"

"It’s not that. Just... slow down."

He smirked. "Soon enough, you’ll be begging me to go faster."

The moment the words left his lips, he kissed her again.

He wanted to flip her over and pin her to the seat, but the car was too cramped. It was hard to even turn around, which seriously cramped his style.

He pushed the car door open, kissing her all the while.

Sophie Shaw was still in a daze when he suddenly scooped her out of the car.

Before her feet could even touch the ground, a pair of strong arms hooked under her knees and swept her up into his arms.

He strode purposefully up the steps, carrying her.

"Honey, open the door."

She pressed her finger on the fingerprint lock.

The moment they were inside, Alaric Blackwood immediately put her down, only to press her urgently against the door.

An overwhelming torrent of kisses assaulted her, leaving her defenseless.

She was kissed until she was dizzy, melting limply in his arms...

First, the sofa on the ground floor. Then, he took her upstairs, never breaking the kiss.

’I don’t even know how I got into the bathroom...’

"Stand straight. Hold on."

His deep voice rumbled in her ear.

She was pressed against the cool tiles, a scorching-hot chest at her back...

Sophie Shaw woke at midnight.

She had woken up from hunger.

The lights were on in the room, but Alaric Blackwood was nowhere to be seen.

She was alone, lying on her stomach on the large bed in the master bedroom, covered by a soft blanket. Underneath it, she was completely naked.

Her last memory was of the bathroom. After that, everything went blank.

’I must have passed out.’

Spying a glass of water on the nightstand, she carefully sat up, feeling sore all over as if her body was about to fall apart.

Noticing the bedroom door was ajar, she wrapped the blanket around herself, leaned listlessly against the headboard, and called out Alaric Blackwood’s name.

Unexpectedly, her voice was completely hoarse.

"..."

’Alaric Blackwood was a little too rough.’

She leaned back against the padded headboard and stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment, then she heard familiar footsteps in the hall.

A moment later, Alaric Blackwood walked in.

He wore a black silk robe, its belt tied loosely at his waist, revealing the faint outline of his pectoral and abdominal muscles.

It was an incredibly sexy and alluring sight.

However, Sophie Shaw’s attention wasn’t on him, but on the tray of food he was holding.

She had missed dinner, and guessing she would be hungry upon waking, he had gone downstairs to cook her a steak.

The steak on the plate was already cut into small pieces, accompanied only by a single silver fork.

He sat on the edge of the bed, holding the plate in one hand. With the other, he picked up the fork, speared a piece of steak, and brought it to her lips.

She opened her mouth and took it.

"You were out for more than two hours."

Sophie Shaw chewed the steak, too embarrassed to speak, her cheeks flushing crimson.

"My wife’s stamina is a little lacking."

"Eat up. You need to get your strength back."

His words didn’t sit right with Sophie Shaw. She mulled them over, and as the steak on the plate nearly vanished, she looked at Alaric Blackwood in confusion. "What do you mean, ’get my strength back’?"

"It means we’re continuing after you finish."

Her eyes widened in horror. "Are you insane?"

"We got back at eight, and you were out cold before ten."

"And that’s your fault."

"How is it my fault?"

"It just is..."

"What did I do?"

"Get out."

"This is my room."

"Fine, I’ll leave."

Sophie Shaw wrapped the blanket around herself and got out of bed. Forcing her sore body and weak legs to move, she didn’t get two steps before Alaric Blackwood caught her.

He swept her up, blanket and all.

"No more! Help! Help me!"

She was thrown back onto the bed, still struggling...

「The next day was Saturday.」

Sophie Shaw lazed in bed until ten in the morning, still barely able to move.

The last time Alaric Blackwood came in to check on her, he had a matching silk robe draped over his arm. It was identical to his, but white.

He found her awake, lying listlessly on the bed.

He walked to the side of the bed and ruffled her hair with a large hand. "Time to get up. The sun’s already high in the sky. Aren’t you hungry?"

"I can’t get up."

"Call me ’hubby,’ and I’ll carry you."

"Hubby."

The corner of Alaric Blackwood’s mouth lifted slightly. He pulled back the covers, slipped the robe onto her, and carefully tied the belt at her waist. With one hand supporting her back and the other under her knees, he lifted her effortlessly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. Smelling the faint scent of agarwood on him, she couldn’t help but blush at the thought of the previous night.

"Alaric Blackwood, I want to set some ground rules with you."

The man let out a low chuckle, walked into the bathroom, and set her down on the vanity counter.

He ran some warm water, got a new toothbrush, squeezed toothpaste onto it, and handed the cup and brush to her.

As she brushed her teeth at a leisurely pace, Alaric Blackwood watched her, completely at ease. "So, how do you want to set these ground rules?"

After she finished brushing, she turned on the tap and scooped up a handful of water to wash her face.

Alaric Blackwood, waiting on her like a revered ancestor, pulled out a face towel and handed it to her. "Any ideas? Let’s hear them."

She took the face towel and, while drying her face, said, "From now on, once a week."

"Once?"

’Does she think I’m a monk?’

"Fridays are fine."

’That way, I won’t be wiped out the next day, and it won’t affect my work during the week.’

’On their wedding night and that time on the sofa, Alaric Blackwood had obviously been considerate of her feelings, very restrained and not so fierce. But last night, he was practically a wolf. It was lethal.’

"I don’t agree. This isn’t a routine task. Are we really going to put it on a schedule with quotas?"

Sophie Shaw crossed her arms, looking at him from her perch on the counter. "Mr. Blackwood, there’s a difference between gorging yourself once and eating well at every meal. I hope you have a clear understanding of that."

"All washed up?"

Alaric Blackwood deliberately changed the subject.

Sophie Shaw grunted in assent and held out her hands to him. "Carry me."

"Call me ’hubby.’"

"Hubby."

"Take back the ’once a week’ rule."

"Alaric Blackwood, don’t push your luck."

"Not taking it back?"

Sophie Shaw jutted out her chin. "Nope."

"Then I’m leaving."

Alaric Blackwood took a long stride and turned to leave.

The moment he stepped out of the bathroom, there was a THUD from behind him.

He turned back to see that Sophie Shaw had jumped down from the vanity. The moment her feet hit the floor, her legs buckled, and she crumpled to her knees.

He didn’t hesitate. He rushed back, wrapped an arm around her waist, and hauled her to her feet.

Sophie Shaw planted her feet on his slippers and tilted her head up to look him straight in the eye. "What’d you come back for?"

"Can you walk?"

"Whether I can walk or not is none of your business."

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

Thoroughly annoyed now, Alaric Blackwood raised a hand and swatted her on the butt.

He didn’t hold back.

It stung. Unwilling to be outdone, Sophie Shaw retaliated with a hard smack of her own.

His firm backside felt unexpectedly good under her palm.

Alaric Blackwood froze for a moment.

’He’d never been spanked like that before...’

Their eyes locked, bodies pressed tightly together. After a brief standoff, it was Alaric Blackwood who surrendered first.

He bent down, scooped Sophie Shaw up, and walked straight out of the bathroom to the ground-floor dining room.

"You’re my own personal tyrant!"

He had given in. Hooking a chair from the dining table with his foot, he carefully placed the woman in his arms onto it.

"So, you agree to my terms?"

Alaric Blackwood nodded.

He braced one hand on the tabletop and draped the other over the back of her chair. A wicked glint appeared in his eyes, and the corner of his mouth curved into a roguish smirk. "Honey, you’d better not regret this."

"Never. Absolutely never."

’Once a week is more than enough.’

’How could I possibly regret it?’

"When you do regret it, you’re going to have to coax me very, very nicely."