I Refuse to Divorce!

Zoe was half-drunk. Mason took her to the parking lot and opened the door of his car with one hand. He signaled for her to get in, but she refused. She was drunk, but she had not completely lost her senses.

Leaning against the door, she raised her head and said in a husky, slurring voice, “I'm not going home with you, Mason! We're getting a divorce!”

He towered over her and glared at her with unmoving eyes. She was bewitching when she was drunk. He had never seen her like this.

A champagne silk blouse and trumpet skirt were supposed to be elegant outfits, but they ended up bringing out her feminine charm.

Every curve on her body seemed to be inviting men to caress and own her. Mason leaned into her ear and gritted his teeth, “Look at yourself. What part of you resembles a decent lady now?”

Zoe raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes seemed to have cleared up a little, but became muddled again soon. Giving up on talking sense into her, Mason roughly shoved her into the car. She made a fuss about wanting to get out of the car. Leaning on her seat, she muttered stuff that was hard for him to hear. It was quite upsetting for him.

He locked the car and was about to buckle her up when he saw in his peripheral vision the car across his path, with a man sitting inside it.

It was Cecil. Both of their cars had their lights on. Both men sat in their cars, sizing each other up. Cecil's eyes were dark as night, and so was Mason's.

Much time had passed and Mason buckled her up. She was slipping in and out of consciousness on account of being drunk. Shifting uncomfortably, she mumbled, “I'm not going home with you.” Mason touched her cheek gently and said in a husky voice, “Who else would you rather go home with?” With that, he stopped caring about what she said.

Sitting upright, he looked at Cecil with a blank face and drove Zoe away under his gaze. Cecil's hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel as both of their cars whizzed past each other. Mason, on the other hand, sneered.

The lights dimmed as the night grew darker. Mason drove his car into the villa compound. His servant heard it, opened the car door, and asked meekly, “Should we prepare supper for you, Mr. Mason?”

At the next moment, she was startled. “Ms. Zoe is back!"

He unbuckled himself and said softly, “Make some herbal tea and send it upstairs. She's drunk!” With that, the servant nodded and left to do his bidding.

Mason turned to the side and looked at Zoe, who was sleeping in the passenger seat. Her throat tightened slightly which led to a minor trembling in her breasts. It was a sight that was enough to make anyone go crazy.

He was no saint. It had been a long time since he had sated his lust. Leaning over to grope and fondle her, he fixed his gaze on her face.

Even a lady has needs, much less a drunken lady. Zoe could not help but moan. She muttered his name over and over again unconsciously, “Mason... Mason...”

He unbuckled her seatbelt and carried her into the villa. She started having headaches from the motion. Clinging to his neck tightly, she muttered repeatedly, “Go slower, Mason... Slower..."

She was merely talking about him walking, but it sounded erotic nonetheless. He could not help but to lower his head and kiss her, all while he was walking. The taste of wine on her lips caused a fiery passion to overtake him.

The chandelier was gleaming in the master bedroom. They were tossing each other's clothes on the floor. Shirt, belt, skirt, and stockings were piled together in a way that would make anyone blush and set their heart racing.

The servant was about to send in the herbal tea he ordered, but she stood down the moment she saw them on the bed through the crack of the door.

Mason was quite anxious. He put the condom on before he had completely removed his clothes.