My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Genevieve was slightly irritated when the man still refused to let her go even after she had begged for mercy. Therefore, she reached out to tousle his tidy hair.

When she leaned forward, Armand seized the chance to grab her arm and pull her toward him. This motion caused her to step on his lap, and with her head tilted back, it looked as if she had thrown herself into his embrace and kissed him.

A long while later, Armand pulled away so that Genevieve could catch her breath. His hand was still holding her waist and caressing it nonchalantly.

“It's late. I should go,” he said, his voice deep and husky.

Probably because she had just had a hot meal, but Genevieve felt inexplicably warm and restless. After moments of staring at the man's thin lips, she couldn't help leaning over to kiss him, as if a magnetic force was attracting her.

Armand proceeded to lift her in his arms. In response, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and as she did so, the strap on her right shoulder slid down to her arm.

The man gulped uncontrollably when he saw her fair porcelain skin.

Lifting her head, Genevieve planted a kiss on his Adam's apple.

Everything happened naturally without obstructions as they were both eager and passionate.

After the intimate moment came to an end, Genevieve was so tuckered out that she wouldn't even allow the man to hug her. Instead, she lay limp on the couch with her exposed arm covered in hickeys.

Armand put on some pants, grabbed a towel, and crouched beside the couch to wipe her face, which was beaded with sweat.

Her long hair was drenched after hours of passionate sex and was plastered to her forehead and face in a disheveled manner. Moreover, the corners of her eyes were tinged pink after crying, making her seem pitiful.

Armand focused on wiping her face and asked, “Should I carry you to the bathroom to get you cleaned up?”

“No. Just let me die on the couch.” Genevieve felt as though her waist was about to give way. Exhausted, she took his arm and used it as a pillow.

Armand adjusted his posture by bending forward so she could rest more comfortably.

She finally regained some of her strength after drinking half a glass of water while leaning on his arm. Subsequently, she glimpsed the scratch marks on the man's shoulder, which were her doing.

All of a sudden, something popped up in her mind when she saw those scratch marks. Shoving his hand away, she sat up while clutching the blanket and stared at him suspiciously. “Why are you... so good at this?”

I thought all inexperienced men are clumsy.

She remembered how Armand had guided her when she didn't know what to do moments ago, his patient guidance charming her to no end, causing her to fall head over heels for him.

Before he could even answer her question, she struggled to get off the couch. With a deep frown, she looked at the couch and then at the messy carpet.

Armand couldn't help asking, “What are you looking for?”