Remarriage Failed Again Today

"You’re too much..." Annabelle Linton chided with a laugh.

"Not enough, not enough..." Leona Grant mumbled indistinctly as he kissed her, his hand slipping inside her clothes. "No matter how much I love you, it’s never enough..."

Leona Grant’s hand traveled up from her flat stomach... Annabelle Linton quickly grabbed it to stop him from getting fresh.

But her stomach was Annabelle Linton’s ticklish spot. With his hand resting there, she couldn’t pull it away, and she couldn’t control the urge to laugh.

Annabelle Linton laughed as she warned, "You’d better stop that right now!"

’She knew it. Once he started, he’d never stop.’

’And she’d be the one "suffering" in the end!’

Leona Grant gave her a few roguish kisses, but she dodged every one.

He stopped, bracing his hands on the sofa and pinning her beneath him as he looked down at her.

The woman’s face, a slight smile playing on her lips, filled his vision. Her eyes, though still calm, were much softer now—no longer holding the indifference and distance of the past.

A strange feeling suddenly washed over him.

’Although her usual coolness was stunning, he would rather she wasn’t so cold.’

’He knew that aloof people were usually lonely and not very happy inside—just like him.’

’He wanted Annabelle Linton to be happy every single day.’

The corners of Leona Grant’s lips quirked up, but he suddenly put on a serious expression and said, "Let’s play a game."

"Yeah, right." Annabelle Linton pushed him, giving him a look that screamed ’I know you’re up to no good.’ She laughed and said, "There’s definitely no benefit in it for me. I’m not playing with you."

"There is," Leona Grant said, smiling at her coaxingly. "It’s just a simple brain teaser. If you get it right, I won’t touch you for a whole week!"

"And if I get it wrong?" Annabelle Linton raised an eyebrow.

"If you get it wrong..." The corner of Leona Grant’s mouth curled. He gave her a light kiss and said devilishly, "Then you’ll have to let me... dote on you properly."

"You cunning fox." Annabelle Linton rolled her eyes at his words. "There’s no benefit for me whether I win or lose. You make it sound as if you can’t already touch me whenever you want."

Hearing this, Leona Grant let out a few low chuckles.

’How is this woman so damn smart?’

’Most people wouldn’t think about the underlying logic here; they’d just pick whichever option looked like the bigger prize.’

’Alright, he couldn’t use a normal person’s line of thinking. His wife was a genius!’

’If reason won’t work, then it’s time for brute force.’

He kissed her, and his hands began to move again, his large hand slipping into her bra...

A wicked smile played on his lips. "Is that so?"

"Er..." Annabelle Linton frowned, pulling at his hand, feeling flustered.

"I suggest you play along. Otherwise, it’ll be ten times a day!"

"You—"

"If you don’t believe me, just try and see!"

But Annabelle Linton truly didn’t dare. She’d experienced it once before and was now genuinely terrified of this man’s stamina!

"Then can you take your hand out?"

"Nope. Rule number one of a happy marriage: a husband must always stay close to his wife," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Annabelle Linton: "..."

He pecked her with a kiss and laughed wickedly. "See? Am I not staying very ’close’?"

’He was right. He was indeed very close.’

’His body was pressed close against hers...’

’She was getting dizzy from his wordplay, but the most dizzying part was yet to come.’

His lips curled. "So, want to play or not? If not, we can forget it. I’d actually be losing out if we did, anyway."

Annabelle Linton sneered. "What’s the game?"

"...You don’t have to force yourself, you know."

’Tch, what a phony!’

Annabelle Linton raised an eyebrow and said concisely, "I’ll play. Spit it out."