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Gwendolyn screeched, “What are you doing, Patrick?”

“Going to bed with you, my wife,” he answered.

As he strode up the staircase, Gwendolyn was struggling. However, she nearly fell out of his arms as she did so, almost scaring her to death.

Ceasing her struggles, she could only hug his neck tightly.

She was dazed, captivated by his handsome features. He actually looks cuter when he's drunk.

She stroked his eyelashes gently and said, “You made a mistake. I'm not your wife.”

Patrick smirked. “How could I be wrong? Didn't you tell the taxi driver that I was your husband, Darling? That makes you my wife,” he murmured while keeping a straight face.

Gwendolyn gasped. Did he hear that? Wasn't he already asleep? Was he just pretending to be sleeping? It couldn't be. If Patrick had actually heard the conversation, he would not have let it slip.

She was confident that Patrick would not remember any of these when he sobered up the next day.

He carried her into the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed so forcefully that she bounced off it.

Gwendolyn crawled to the edge of the bed as fast as she could, her mouth hanging open. She was in shock. She knew that the bed was a dangerous place to be with Patrick, even more so with him being drunk.

However, he grabbed hold of her before she could escape. Again, she was flung to the middle of the bed.

Patrick drew even closer and brushed his lips against hers. He then brought her arms over her head and pressed her down on the bed as he continued kissing her.

Gwendolyn was so close to losing her mind at that point. How did he get so wasted that he can't even recognize his home and his wife?

She tried to convey that he was kissing Gwendolyn and not Felicia. However, the attempt was unsuccessful, as she was unable to speak at all.

He continued mashing his lips against hers so firmly and aggressively that it made her lips go numb.

His kisses were just like him, so dominating yet irresistible.

Even so, she tried her very best to keep her cool.

She almost lost it, though, as he was wearing nothing but his boxers.

Gwendolyn was just human, after all. It was completely normal for women her age to be filled with desires anyway. She blamed it on the hormones.

Nevertheless, she knew she had to overcome the lust.

There was no way she would give in to the temptations. She would never allow herself to.

As much as Gwendolyn tried to conceal her emotions, Patrick saw through her. They were written all over her face. It didn't turn him off, though. Instead, he found it appealing and even seductive.

Tonight, he would use this opportunity of him being drunk to sleep with her. Once that was over, she would surely understand his feelings.

When Gwendolyn snapped out of her daze, her lips had already been released, allowing her to breathe properly. Feeling a little chilly, it took her a moment to realize that she had been stripped of her clothes.

Oh, this naughty man. Not again!

“Hey, Patrick, look at me. This is Gwendolyn. I'm not Felicia,” she said while trying to wake him up by tapping on his back.