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Gwendolyn screeched, “What are you doing, Patrick?”
“Going to bed with you, my wife,” he answered.
As he strode up the staircase, Gwendolyn was struggling. However, she nearly fell out of his arms as
she did so, almost scaring her to death.
Ceasing her struggles, she could only hug his neck tightly.
She was dazed, captivated by his handsome features. He actually looks cuter when he's drunk.
She stroked his eyelashes gently and said, “You made a mistake. I'm not your wife.”
Patrick smirked. “How could I be wrong? Didn't you tell the taxi driver that I was your husband, Darling?
That makes you my wife,” he murmured while keeping a straight face.
Gwendolyn gasped. Did he hear that? Wasn't he already asleep? Was he just pretending to be
sleeping? It couldn't be. If Patrick had actually heard the conversation, he would not have let it slip.
She was confident that Patrick would not remember any of these when he sobered up the next day.
He carried her into the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed so forcefully that she bounced off it.
Gwendolyn crawled to the edge of the bed as fast as she could, her mouth hanging open. She was in
shock. She knew that the bed was a dangerous place to be with Patrick, even more so with him being
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtdrunk.
However, he grabbed hold of her before she could escape. Again, she was flung to the middle of the
bed.
Patrick drew even closer and brushed his lips against hers. He then brought her arms over her head
and pressed her down on the bed as he continued kissing her.
Gwendolyn was so close to losing her mind at that point. How did he get so wasted that he can't even
recognize his home and his wife?
She tried to convey that he was kissing Gwendolyn and not Felicia. However, the attempt was
unsuccessful, as she was unable to speak at all.
He continued mashing his lips against hers so firmly and aggressively that it made her lips go numb.
His kisses were just like him, so dominating yet irresistible.
Even so, she tried her very best to keep her cool.
She almost lost it, though, as he was wearing nothing but his boxers.
Gwendolyn was just human, after all. It was completely normal for women her age to be filled with
desires anyway. She blamed it on the hormones.
Nevertheless, she knew she had to overcome the lust.
There was no way she would give in to the temptations. She would never allow herself to.
As much as Gwendolyn tried to conceal her emotions, Patrick saw through her. They were written all
over her face. It didn't turn him off, though. Instead, he found it appealing and even seductive.
Tonight, he would use this opportunity of him being drunk to sleep with her. Once that was over, she
would surely understand his feelings.
When Gwendolyn snapped out of her daze, her lips had already been released, allowing her to breathe
properly. Feeling a little chilly, it took her a moment to realize that she had been stripped of her clothes.
Oh, this naughty man. Not again!
“Hey, Patrick, look at me. This is Gwendolyn. I'm not Felicia,” she said while trying to wake him up by
tapping on his back.
Well, of course, he knew. He was well aware that the woman was Gwendolyn and not Felicia. However,
this was perfect as she was exactly who he wanted so badly.
Before she could react, his lips touched hers again while his hand began caressing her all over her
body.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmGwendolyn's eyes widened. The abrupt intimacy caught her off guard.
She panicked.
Her current situation made her recall a certain dream. To be more accurate, she was reminded of that
jerk from all those years ago.
He was extremely similar to Patrick, almost as if they were the same person, especially the warmth and
lines of his palm.
Memories of that man running off after sleeping with her were filling her mind again. The mere thought
of it sent chills down her spine. Strangely, she was terrified yet a little euphoric.
These hurtful memories of Gwendolyn's daunting past had wounded her deeply, leaving a scar in her
heart.
And all of a sudden, she was in pain. The flashbacks that she was getting made her feel as if her
wound was being ripped open again.
Her struggles grew increasingly violent. With full force, she started kicking Patrick until he finally fell off
the bed.
She then sat herself up after breaking free of him. Patrick stood up, cradling his aching head, and
asked coldly, “Were you trying to paralyze me with that kick, Gwendolyn?”
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