Patrick dropped on the backseat of the car with his eyes half-closed, a genuine longing escaping his thin lips, "Send me home."
Cynthia's hand on his face stiffened, "Which home?"
"Land of... Fragrance." He really wanted to go home. Hurt by Amelia, he had tried to bury himself in alcohol, but she was still the only one he wanted.
Cynthia's finger brushed his eyebrows, which showed he was hurt by love. Cynthia hated the fact that the woman Patrick cared about was not her. As for the woman he loved, Amelia could wear his love at will!
As far as Cynthia knew, Amelia had pushed Patrick to alcohol more than once. How could she do that?
It was extremely lucky to have such an excellent, perfect man to be her husband, yet she dared to hurt Patrick's feelings! Good! If Amelia didn't cherish him, what was wrong with Cynthia trying her best to win Patrick over?
After getting rid of her last bit of conscience, Cynthia gently landed her head on the shoulder of Patrick and said, "Okay, let's go home."
In the room at a five-star hotel.
When Cynthia came out of the bathroom, her skimpy dress had been changed into something sexier. She climbed up to Patrick's bed and ran her fingers all the way up from his calf.
Realizing that someone was caressing him, Patrick struggled to open his eyes and found a beautiful woman very close to him. Suddenly, in a daze, he had an illusion that Amelia was right in front of him. With a strong impulse, he drove her under him with force.
Cynthia let out a cry in a low voice and lay down obediently, waiting for Patrick to enjoy her. However, Patrick froze when he met her pretty eyes.
He shook his head and said to himself, "No, you're not her. She won't be so obedient."
Untying him, Cynthia whispered, "Patrick, I'm never her. It's me, Cynthia."
"Cynthia?" Patrick widened his eyes, trying to see more clearly. But the woman in front of him looked as if she were covered by mist, preventing him from seeing who she was.
"Yes, it's me." Cynthia threw the tie away and began to unbutton his shirt. She said slowly, "Patrick, did you eat or drink something you shouldn't have in the club? Otherwise, why do you keep saying you're hot?" "Drink something I shouldn't have?" Patrick thought of the glass of drink the punk fed him. Could it be...
"I was drugged?"
Cynthia let out a soft sigh as an answer.
With her warm and soft body by his side, Patrick needed great self-control to stay away from her. He said with uneven breath, "Cynthia, judging from my current state... I may hurt you at any time... Would you stay away from me?"
Without hesitation, Cynthia replied, "No! Patrick, I'm not afraid of you hurting me. No matter what happens, I'm willing to be with you!"
Patrick had his fingertips settled deeply into his palm and managed with his little remained reason. "Cynthia! You don't understand at all... I'm drugged and would be calmed down only by women. Your staying here won't help me at all!"
Seeing that he was still struggling, Cynthia changed her position, knelt in front of him, and began to take off her clothes. "Patrick, am I not a woman to you? I can't stand watching you suffer. It doesn't matter. If you want, I will give myself to you."
"Cynthia... you really don't have to do this!" Patrick said.
"I know you have no choice. I will not blame you afterward, and I will not threaten you by this either..." She drew his veined hands on her breasts and said with affection in her eyes.
Her offer was a great temptation for any man, not to mention Patrick, who was drugged and unable to think straight at that time.
After staring at each other for a couple of seconds, Patrick did not take action. Instead, he said something that broke Cynthia's heart, "You are not her. I don't want you and I can't..."
Cynthia asked agitatedly, "How can you still think about her when you're like this? You've fallen in love with her, haven't you?"
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