A coquettish voice sounded from her throat.

Christine had never expected that she would one day make such a sound.

When she came to her senses, she covered her lips in a hurry. Her eyes were wet in the bathroom. She looked at him dazedly and then couldn't wait to bury her head into the water. She stumbled, "I, I can wash by myself."

She was afraid that if Franklin kept doing this to her, she might be triggered first and then push him down and have sex with him.

Franklin's gaze slid down from her delicate little face to the uneven red marks on her white skin for a moment. He leaned toward her and said huskily, with a rapid gasping, "Okay... Wash it yourself, but don't get your hand wet, understand?"

His tone was so spoiled as if he was coaxing a child.

Christine nodded randomly, and then she noticed the man crossed his arms as he stood beside the bathtub, looking at her washing with one hand with interest.

She looked even more embarrassed. She raised her head to see into the man's smiling eyes, frowning, "How do I wash with you being here?"

"If you can't wash you with me beside you, who else are you expecting?" The man refuted and fixed his sharp eyes on her, keeping her within his sight and circling to see through her heart.

They looked into each other's eyes within a second.

Christine got nothing to ask him back, losing her interest to continue washing. So she closed her eyes and got up from the tub, striding out directly. She was embarrassed anyway, so she wouldn't care embarrassing herself a few more times. But before she could walk out, she slipped and couldn't help screaming.

The next second, her wrist was caught by a pair of rough but strong hands steadily, along with a spoiled smile, "Mrs. Brook, are you throwing yourself on me?"

Christine was so ridiculed that she couldn't even lift her head. She seemed to feel the man's evil humor, and was annoyed inwardly.

Although Franklin was on the verge of pissing off from time to time because of her factitious manners, he was at least cold and abstinent. Was the man in front of her who had molested her several times still her husband?

As soon as she frowned, Franklin saw through her thoughts, and the corners of his lips were slightly curved. But when Christine looked over, his smile disappeared.

Franklin seemed to be deliberate. He pulled the bath towel and wiped the drops of water on her body slowly. It was obvious that he could finish it within five minutes, but he wiped her for half an hour.

When he finally finished wiping her and took the bathrobe, Christine finally breathed a sigh of relief with a flushed face.

Franklin carried her back to the bed. His eyes fell on the long wet hair attached to her forehead, so he took out the hairdryer in the cabinet, and patted the bedside, "Come here."

Christine sat beside the man obediently, letting the man's slender fingertips pass through her hair. A warm feeling spread, making her squint with comfort.

After she noticed that Franklin stopped drying her hair, she slowly opened her eyes, but Christine was nowhere to be seen in the empty room.

Without putting on her shoes, she got up in a hurry and went to the room with bright lights, finding Franklin standing straight by the bed and preparing to undress. Seeing that she came in with bare feet, he had an unpleasant look in his eyes, "Why don't you wear shoes? Do you want to get sick and then go back to the Stock Family and say I treat you harshly?"

"Why don't you take a shower in the master bedroom? Do you want to sleep with me separately?" Christine's dazzling eyes were with tears and grievances when she questioned him.

At this moment, Christine had taken off his clothes on the upper body, revealing his eight abs clearly. He walked towards Christine step by step, as if stepping on her heart, suddenly bent over, and said in her ear, "Can't live without me, or do you want to kill me again?"

Christine shuddered when she heard this.

She remained quiet for a while.

But she had the scene in her mind that she almost stabbed Franklin in the heart in the previous life and he fell into a pool of blood.

Her face turned pale inch by inch.

She reached out and held his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Her warm tears penetrated the man's skin and poked his heart directly, "Hubby~ Please don't leave me. I will have nightmares at night without you by my side."

As soon as she finished, they kept in silence.

The window of the guest bedroom was not closed, and there was a cool breeze.

Christine was too cold to speak. She just wanted to hug Franklin hard, listening to the beating of his heart, proving that he was alive.

Franklin was hugged by her for a total of ten minutes, and he didn't come back to his senses until she sneezed.

If she wanted to play a trick and divorce him, she didn't need to devote her feelings, but the fragility and fear of Christine at the moment couldn't be ignored anyway, as if she was really afraid that he would leave her.

He squinted. When he touched her cold body, he held her in his arms, went straight to the master bedroom, and stuffed her into the quilt.

Upon seeing this, Christine smiled brighter, leaning against his chest like she was relying on him. She circled his neck tightly, as if she wouldn't loosen her hands, and her eyes were so bright that she only had him in her eyes alone.

Franklin's breath became heavier by her rubbing. He frowned, reaching out to grab her hand, but he was held by her tighter. Her arrogant expression looked a little cute.

He chuckled, "Let me go."

"Do you still want to leave?"

Her voice was so aggrieved.

Seeing her expression, Franklin felt both angry and funny, "You don't want me to go. Does it mean you want to join me to take a shower again?"

Christine let him go out of embarrassment. For fear that he still wanted to sleep in another room, her little hand grabbed the corner of his pants the moment he turned around, "You will be back, right?"

Seeing that his pants were pulled halfway, the man's face turned gloomy, "Mrs. Brook, are you trying to express that you only want me by your side? But I don't think you can change your heart overnight to loving me instead of wanting to kill me?"

"You are my husband. Of course you are the only one I want." Christine said these sweet words fluently, "Hubby, what happened yesterday was a mistake. People always say the beating means kissing while scolding means loving. I only did that because I love you so much. I'm totally into you for your attractive appearance."

Franklin held her little hand to prevent her from touching the wound, saying in a low voice, "My attractive appearance?"

"Not only your charming face, but also your body." Christine grasped his pants so hard that his pants almost fell. She also got close to him as her pajama was rubbed open, unfolding on the quilt.

Her snow-white skin glowed with purple hickeys, and the long black hair manifested her delicate collarbone with white light.

Franklin endured so hard that his veins stood out violently. He slapped her ass, "Christine, when did you get the courage to tease me?"

"I'm telling the truth."

Franklin curled the corners of his lips, and when Christine looked at him with her innocent eyes, he slapped her butt neither lightly nor hard, which made her angry directly.

Seeing she pouting her mouth as if she was about to lose her temper, he said unhurriedly, "If beating means kissing while scolding means loving, why would you hide?"

Fine.

Since he was her husband, his words counted.

She would like to give in this time.

Christine was like a balloon that had blown up. The anger that she was spanked was totally vented now. She pouted and muttered, "Hubby, you have to believe me."

Under her innocent gaze, Franklin almost couldn't control himself to break her waist. His veins under the skin were beating fiercely, wild and sexy.

He reached out and touched her hot cheeks, and then simply took off his pants along with her hand. He only had underwear on his body, and walked towards the bathroom.

He urgently needed a cold shower now.

Christine knew it in her heart that Franklin might not believe her for the time being.

She was in no rush.

Her husband was hers, and could only be hers!