Chapter 162 Dream and Illusion
The dream had lifted Cheriseâs spirits and sparked hope, only to crumble into mere
illusion.
Using his finger, Damien raised her chin. âMrs. Lenoir, was that inappropriate dream you. had there?â
Blushing at the dream memory, Cherise stammered, âN-no!â
âNo?â The man chuckled and picked up the voice recorder from the table, pressing the play button.
âNo, donâtâŠâ
âHoney, stop k*ssing me.â
âThereâs so much saliva, donât k*ss meâŠâ
âNo, I donât mind your saliva, but stop k*ssing⊠I canât catch my breathâŠâ
The womanâs giggles echoed in the room.
Cheriseâs face turned red as a beet, and she quickly wrapped herself in the blanket. âI didnât say that!â
âIt wasnât me!â
How embarra*sing! She couldnât believe she had said those things in her dream.
Oh no, Damien isnât going to let me live this down!
Damien smiled, gently pulling the blanket aside and pinning Cherise beneath him. âMrs. Lenoir, let me enlighten you. When a normal man hears these sounds from his wife in the early morningâŠâ
âHe wonât be able to resist.â
Cheriseâs brain stalled for a second. âResist what?â
The next moment, the manâs fiery lips pressed against hers. âYouâll find out soon.â
âUmph!â
Eventually, Cherise was worn out by Damien before noon, feeling sore all over and with no desire to leave the bed. And she was famished!
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She looked at Damien, who lay in bed listening to the news with a relaxed demeanor, and asked, âAre you hungry?â
Damien raised an eyebrow slightly. âA bit.â
A bit?
Cherise rolled her eyes. She was physically spent, practically stuck to the bed, but he, who had been doing all the work, claimed to be only âa bitâ hungry?
Monster!
She took a deep breath, slipped into her nightgown, and tried to get out of bed. Just as her feet were about to hit the floor, Damien suggested, âWhy donât you ask Frances to bring your food up?â
He raised an eyebrow as he shifted to a more comfortable position and leaned against the bed. âYouâre the lady of the house; you donât need to handle everything yourself.â
Cherise shook her head. âNo, better notâŠâ
Cherise hesitated, concerned that asking Frances to bring her food would give away what had happened. Besides, it felt awkward and impolite to trouble the elderly maid.
Even with her resolve to get out of bed and manage her meal independently, her sore and, feeble legs almost gave way, nearly sending her tumble forward.
Fortunately, she managed to grab onto the bedâs edge.
Damien couldnât help but jest, âLooks like your legs have given up on you.â
With a resigned smile, he continued, âInstead of putting on a show for Mr. Hampson and. the whole household as you scuttle around like a crab, why not have Frances come up? That way, only Frances will be in the know, and the rest wonât.â
Cherise hesitated. While reluctant to admit it, she realized the wisdom in his words.
âOkay.â
She replied with a hint of disappointment and climbed back into bed.
Damien grabbed his phone, punched in a number swiftly, and tossed the phone her way. âTell Frances what youâre in the mood for.â
Cherise blushed like a tomato.
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âMrs. Lenoir, what can I get you?â
Frances, a seasoned household staffer, instantly got what had happened and was happening.
Cherise bit her lip. âIâll have pasta bologneseâŠ
Looking sheepishly at Damien, she added, âUh, for two, pleaseâŠâ
Downstairs, Frances was confused, and she thought.
What? For two??
âBut, Mrs. Lenoir, I know Mr. Lenoirâs appetite well. Even if heâs famished, he wouldnât need two portions.â
Cheriseâs hand holding the phone wavered momentarily, and her cheeks flushed. âWell, um⊠the two portions are for me.â
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