Andrew sat in Ryan’s Porsche 911, the car darting through the smooth road like an arrow.
Though Andrew appeared calm, Ryan sensed something was amiss.
His breathing was clearly uneven, his palms clenched into fists, and the blue veins on the back of his hands bulged, cold sweat slowly trickling down his forehead.
“Feeling unwell?” Ryan asked with concern.
“Zoe put something in my tea,” Andrew hoarsely replied.
“What did she add?” Ryan inquired.
“The same medicine you put in my drink last time,” Andrew retorted with suppressed coldness.
Back then, if it weren’t for Ryan drugging his drink, the situation with Isabella wouldn’t have occurred.
Ryan paused momentarily, then smirked, mocking, “Zoe’s ambition is considerable, her audacity even greater.”
Andrew’s handsome face was as dark as thunderclouds, struggling to regulate his breathing.
“Alpha, should I take you to the hospital?” Ryan asked.
“Would it help to go to the hospital?” Andrew retorted.
Ryan steered the wheel with one hand, subconsciously touching his nose with the other. “Not much. In your current condition, you have only two choices: endure it or let me find a woman for you.”
Andrew gave him a cold glance. “Take me back to the Maple Leaf Road apartment.”
“Is it suitable for you to go home like this?” Ryan questioned.
“Today’s the weekend; Amelia is with Asher at the Turner family; she won’t be back tonight,” Andrew replied.
Ryan nodded and steered the car swiftly toward the apartment.
Ryan felt Andrew need not torment himself. He and Isabella weren’t a couple; there was no need for him to abstain from her. Finding a clean woman to fulfill his physical needs and paying her afterward would solve the issue.
But, even with all these thoughts, Ryan wouldn’t dare say it aloud.
Andrew arrived at the apartment, heading straight to the bathroom, filling the bathtub with cold water.
He took off his clothes, soaking in the cold water for over an hour, barely suppressing the urge inside him.
After stepping out of the bathroom and changing his clothes, he received a call from Isabella.
“Andrew, I’ve landed. Where are you?”
Only then did Andrew remember he promised to pick Isabella up. But his current condition wasn’t suitable for going out.
“Isabella, I’m not feeling very well. Can you go home by yourself?” he said.
“Andrew, you were perfectly fine before I boarded the flight. Just two hours later, and you’re unwell? Are you playing games with me?” Isabella said, displeased.
She hurried back to find him, and he just dismissed her with ‘not feeling well’. Isabella was filled with pent-up anger.
“Isabella, be obedient. I’ll contact you tomorrow,” Andrew hoarsely said.
After hanging up, Andrew collapsed onto the sofa. Every time he closed his eyes, he couldn’t shake off the image of Isabella. Just hearing her voice made him lose control. His mind was filled with their first time together, her under him, fragrant and soft, crying like a little kitten, beguiling.
The cold shower he took was futile; the fire inside him flared up again.
He walked back into the bathroom, submerging himself once more in the tub filled with icy water.
When he emerged from the bathroom again, his mind was considerably clearer.
He returned to the living room, turned on the TV, trying to distract himself with the evening news.
Andrew had barely settled on the sofa when he heard movement at the entrance, and soon, the door was pushed open from outside, and Isabella walked in dragging her suitcase.
“Why did you come back?” Andrew frowned at her.
Isabella casually dropped her luggage and habitually removed her coat, kicked off her shoes, and walked in barefoot.
Underneath her coat, she wore a low-cut skirt, barely covering her thighs, showcasing her straight and slender legs.
“Back to check if you’re dead.” Isabella pouted, speaking defiantly.
Originally planning to ignore him, she couldn’t help but worry if he was genuinely unwell, which led her to return.
“Feeling unwell? Why are you watching TV?” Isabella walked up to Andrew and reached out her hand, covering his forehead with her soft and warm palm.
“Why are you so cold?” Her beautiful brows furrowed with worry.
However, before she could retract her hand, Andrew forcefully grabbed it. Suddenly, he pulled her into his arms.
Their bodies pressed against each other, and he almost greedily smelled the softness and fragrance exclusive to her femininity. As his mate, Isabella’s scent nearly drove him mad. Andrew’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he could clearly hear his heart’s restless beating within his chest, screaming wildly for her.
The suppression, enforced by the cold water and his rational mind, burst out uncontrollably again. Andrew’s deep blue eyes stared intensely at her slightly pouted, pink lips, feeling they were as vibrant as blossoming flowers.
“Andrew, what’s happening to you? Should I take you to the hospital?” Isabella looked bewildered, but before she could finish speaking, he kissed her passionately and pushed her onto the couch.
Andrew’s kiss was urgent and frenzied, leaving Isabella almost breathless.
She resisted, struggling in his embrace with all her might.
Yet, Andrew, pressing on her, not only didn’t loosen his grip but also intensified his efforts to tear her clothes.
“Andrew, what’s wrong with you? Are you insane!” Isabella exclaimed in shock.
“Isabella, I want you,” Andrew’s voice was low, hoarse, his body burning, his gaze upon her deep and dark.
“No!” Isabella refused without a second thought.
“Why not?” His muscular arms pinned her shoulders, looking as if he were about to devour her.
“We’re, we’re moving too fast, I’m not ready yet.” Isabella’s hands clutched his shirt desperately, resisting passively.
“No need to prepare. Be a good girl, close your eyes,” Andrew’s large palm covered her bright eyes.
Isabella’s body trembled uncontrollably, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes, her voice weak and choked, “Andrew, I’m scared.”
Their first time together had left her with a considerably bad impression, casting a significant shadow in her mind.
He tenderly kissed away her tears, murmuring hoarsely and suppressively, “Don’t be afraid, Isabella. I’ll be more gentle.”
Isabella understood; this time, she couldn’t escape. She stopped resisting futilely, slowly opening herself up.
As if receiving an invitation, his arms around her waist tightened bit by bit, never releasing her.
When she was thoroughly exhausted, her mind dizzy and spinning, all she could think was: What happened to the gentleness he promised? She wished she had known men’s words were unreliable!
After deep, passionate entanglement, when the madness ceased, Isabella had fallen into an exhausted sleep.
Andrew carried her to the bathroom to clean up. During a brief moment of consciousness, Isabella found herself being handled again in the bathtub by him.
Isabella even wondered if this man’s way of handling things would eventually wear her out completely.