Chapter 7 Give Me A Hand

Arianne Wynn’s eyes widened in trepidation. It was only then that she realized that before she came, he had consumed a fair amount of liquor. The small sip just now could not sum up to the scent of alcohol wading from him right now.

Mark Tremont’s kiss was commanding and predatory, swallowing Arianne’s breath bit by bit. When she was about to struggle for air, he finally pulled away.

“The dinner is getting cold!” Arianne cried out in panic.

Mark Tremont was a different person when he was drunk, compared to when he was sober. When he drank, he gradually let his true self out, but while sober he was everyone’s gentleman.

Arianne was well aware of this. She was terrified and trembling, while the message Will Sivan entrusted to Tiffany Lane kept looping in her mind – ‘I like you. Wait for my return. You’ve got to wait for me.’

Mark Tremont pushed her down onto the large bed behind her.

“Two more hours. What a waste to spend it on dinner.”

He was facing away from the light. Arianne was unable to discern his expression. She dared not look straight into his face, a face that countless women lusted over. She could vaguely feel his rage.

She caught his hand.

“Don’t be like this…”

Her tone was pleading. Yet little did she know that a damsel in distress was the easiest way to spark a man’s desire.

Mark Tremont’s hand moved to her face as he caressed her features.

“But your eyes were tempting me, they have always been tempting me. Why do you stare at me if you don’t want it?”

His tone was alluring with a slight rasp.

Arianne’s reply was tinged with a sob. “Mark Tremont… I… I’m on my period…”

His eyes darkened.

Arianne held her breath. Before she came upstairs, she had prepared herself. This loophole was foolproof as long as he did not check with his own eyes.

However, what killed her hope was that Mark Tremont did not let her go despite her announcement. Instead, the grazing on her neck that felt slightly raw put her on edge. She dared not resist him anymore, knowing that his patience had always been limited.

“Give me a hand,” he said as if ordering her.

Arianne stiffened up. She wanted to retract her hand but he had caught it in a death grip.

The alcohol in her system alleviated much of her psychological discomfort, rendering her mildly inebriated, now not aware of what she was doing. The concept of time had escaped her. Mark Tremont came down from above her and went into the bathroom before he quickly got out of the door.

Waking up in the next morning, Arianne Wynn was dumbstruck to see that she had slept on Mark Tremont’s bed last night!

She had entered his room countless times throughout the years in the Tremont Estate but she had never slept in his room.

Recalling last night’s incident, a blush crept up her cheeks as she was dressing, despite her crushing headache. Other than the very last step, they had done everything last night. Even when she had been expecting this, she still felt a heavy weight on her chest.

The dinner she had carried up yesterday was left untouched on the coffee table. Arianne took it downstairs to see an unusually cheery Mary taking the food tray from her while joyously giving her a toasted sandwich.

“Eat up, I know that you like this. Sir’s been really nice to you. He rushed back to celebrate your birthday even if it was only for a few hours. You have no idea how hasty he was when he left…”

Arianne Wynn gave no reply, but in her mind she grumbled to herself, “Ugh, must have been difficult for Mark Tremont to make time and do that to her when he has such a tight schedule!”

Before she headed out, Mary hung her hand-knitted scarf on her. “In case others see your neck.”