Chapter 97
“It’s still early,” Isolde said. “I’m going to meet some old friends to play dominoes. I haven’t played in a long time, so my hands are itching for a game.” Isolde, her head and legs no longer aching, draped a light blanket over her knees and walked out gracefully.
No matter how much Joycelyn urged Isolde to stay, she was resolute in her decision to leave.
“Let Grandma go,” Ellison said. “She wants to get out and have some fun.” He stepped forward, gently removed Joycelyn’s hand from his grandmother’s arm, and wrapped it around his own.
Joycelyn’s face, usually so composed, suddenly looked helpless.
Ellison had the bodyguards escort the two elderly women out. Once again, the villa was left quiet, with just the couple inside.
Joycelyn watched as the car pulled away from the gate, letting out a sigh. “I’ll check on Rocky,” she said. “It ate too much, so it definitely needs a walk.”
Ellison stretched out his long arm and immediately pulled her back into his embrace.
Joycelyn knew there was no escaping him tonight.
His strong arms wrapped around her waist, holding her in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and adored. Resting her forehead on his chest, she muttered softly, “Mr. Grant… please have mercy. I held Rocky today.”
Joycelyn hoped to use Rocky as an excuse to avoid further intimacy, but to her surprise, Ellison placed both hands down, swiftly lifting her by the thighs and holding her against him.
His blue eyes darkened with desire. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll take care of you myself.”
Joycelyn blinked up at him, initially planning to negotiate, to suggest that she didn’t want a wedding or wedding photos. But now, she realized any such words were futile.
Her lips pouted, and with a pleading look in her eyes, she said, “You can’t bring up the past, and you can’t take revenge on me.”
A few days ago, she had teased him, using her period as a reason for avoidance.
Ellison chuckled softly. “It’s too late, Mrs. Grant.”
Joycelyn was both terrified and inexplicably aroused.
‘Oh no, I’m going to lose to him tonight,’ she thought.
He carried her into the room, kissed her, and released one hand to slip beneath her clothes, caressing her.
Joycelyn, shy and trying to dodge, buried her face in his neck and moaned softly, “Be gentler… It hurts.”
His touch was strong, sometimes painful.
“Okay,” Ellison said, his voice softer. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable, alright?”
He kissed her from her lips to her cheeks, then down to her sensitive earlobes.
Her breathing became more ragged with each of his kisses.
“Okay,” she whispered.
At first, she had felt discomfort, but her body now responded instinctively to his touch.
Soon, her delicate features began to glow with warmth, her skin flushed in a soft, rosy hue, and her bright eyes filled with a layer of moisture. Her eyelashes fluttered like delicate wings.
“Such a beauty,” Ellison thought.
His heart softened as he gazed at her, before unzipping his pants and gently carrying her to the bathtub.
The water was warm and soothing in the large tub, the steam surrounding them. Water spilled over the sides as they settled in.
Joycelyn, her body completely relaxed against him, whispered, “I… don’t have any strength left.” Her hair was damp, her face flushed and weak.
For the first time, she realized just how much strength Ellison had.
“Isn’t it said that a man’s prime is short?” she said softly. “By twenty-five, things start to decline. But you’re thirty, and yet you’re still…”
Joycelyn hesitated, trying to find the word. She glanced at Ellison’s chiseled features, her mind struggling to describe what she meant.
‘How has he managed all this time?’ she wondered.
The sound of water splashing covered the rest of her words.
Ellison’s breathing was heavy, and he caught the words “very short” and “downhill.”
“You think I’m not good enough, huh?” he asked, his voice slightly strained as he looked at her with a mixture of amusement and challenge.
Joycelyn frowned slightly, her throat dry from all the moaning. She couldn’t quite find the words to respond.
But then she thought, ‘Why does he think I find him inadequate?’
There was a brief moment of silence in the bathroom, both of them staring at each other—one serious, the other a bit dazed.
Afterward, they left the bath, and Ellison continued his playful teasing, making sure she remembered their little joke.
That night, after they washed up and returned to the bed, Ellison gently pinched Joycelyn’s cheek and asked, “Where do you want to do your wedding photoshoot?”
“I don’t want to take them,” Joycelyn muttered weakly, swatting his hand away.
“Why?” Ellison asked, his gaze turning even more serious.
Joycelyn, sore and exhausted, mumbled, “Who knows how long this marriage will last? What’s the point of taking photos?”
Ellison’s sharp brows furrowed, his handsome face growing darker.
“Is that so?” he asked with a hint of coldness. “Then I’ll make sure we do it.”
With a snort, he bit her face in playful retaliation for her coldness.
Joycelyn slapped him lightly with her hand, frustrated.
Ellison’s blue eyes widened, a scowl forming on his face.
“You turn hostile right after we make love? You heartless thing,” he muttered angrily, though he didn’t act on it.
Annoyed, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.
“You’re pressing on my hair,” Joycelyn muttered, irritated.
Ellison immediately looked up, brushing her hair aside gently.
Earlier, he had been angry, but now he was cautious, as if trying not to provoke her further.
Perhaps Joycelyn didn’t even realize it, but Ellison’s care for her was becoming more profound.
The next day, Joycelyn was weak all over. For the first time, Ellison drove her to work.
She sat in the backseat, wrapped up tightly, looking like someone trying to hide an affair.
“Mrs. Grant, since we’re married, not only am I your husband, but I also play the role of your secret lover,” Ellison said with his cold, expressionless face.
His words mocked her, but Joycelyn chose to ignore him.
When they arrived at the company, she went straight to the washroom to remove her mask, then took off her coat and stuffed it in her bag before heading to her desk.
Aurelia approached her, looking nervous. “Joycelyn, Mr. Grant wants us to go up to the CEO’s office.”
Joycelyn, who had been yawning, immediately snapped to attention, her sleepiness gone. She furrowed her brows. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Aurelia said. “Let’s go up first.”
In the elevator, Joycelyn thought, ‘It’s probably work-related. If it were personal, he would’ve mentioned it at home. But still, I have a feeling he’s up to something.’
As she expected, Ellison had set a trap for her, waiting for her to fall right into it.
