Chapter 66 The Woman in the Dream
The woman's soft, fragrant moans filled the air around them like a beautiful serenade, making the night even more enchanting.
Paris felt like he was in a dream, one he never wanted to wake up from. He wished he could stay in this moment forever, growing old and slowly fading away from the world...
"So sweet..." he whispered. The woman in his arms was obedient and docile, unlike his previous lovers who eagerly sought his kisses.
But her passivity only fueled his desire to conquer her.
His tongue finally slipped into her mouth, and the smoothness of her tongue made him suck hard, wrapping tightly around it, not wanting to let her go.
Her tongue kept stirring in his mouth, making his breathing heavier, the alcohol in his system reaching its peak.
He feared he might get a nosebleed, afraid he would take her before she was ready.
At that moment, her small hand finally climbed up to his neck, softly moaning with his kisses. Her body arched slightly, as if his kisses and touches awakened her primal desires.
Listening to her moans and feeling her soft, snake-like movements, he impatiently began unbuttoning her nightgown.
How annoying, having to unbutton each button on the nightgown.
But finally, in his impatience, all the buttons were undone.
Now, there was nothing left to cover her body.
With her shallow breaths, the air was filled with a soft fragrance.
In this dreamlike night, Alison felt everything was unreal, as if she were dreaming.
Her head still throbbed faintly.
In the dream, she saw Jack, yes, it was him.
Just like those ninety days they spent together in the apartment, he kissed her lips, her softness, and even more intimate places.
But those beautiful times were long gone.
Yet now, everything appeared so real in her dream.
She kept her eyes closed, subconsciously not wanting to wake from this beautiful dream.
She kept telling herself, he hated Emily, not her, he shouldn't hate her.
In the dream, she seemed to savor his past tenderness, everything as beautiful as if it were yesterday.
They had many beautiful memories, and if it weren't for Emily's appearance, that beauty might have continued.
But now, everything had vanished, leaving only the harsh reality and past memories.
He didn't seem to like her, maybe even hated her.
However, his familiar scent was exactly as she remembered, so pleasant.
She clung to his neck, breathing in his scent, as if time had turned back to yesterday.
"Jack..." she called softly, a longing from her dream.
He lifted her head powerfully, letting her rest in the crook of his arm, quickly removing her nightgown.
In the midst of biting and kissing, the dream became more real, and she even forgot her headache, clinging tightly to his neck, as if only this could give her a sense of security.
For the past three years, how many nights had she spent in unease.
Now, she just wanted to lose herself in the dream, thinking of nothing, just surrendering to it.
The scent of red apples filled the air as they tasted each other, the sweetness of the juice mingling as they sucked on each other.
They didn't know who the other was, yet it felt like they knew.
Her moans echoed in the night, calming his heart.
Only one thought in his mind... just want...
Time seemed to stand still at that moment, as their breathing grew heavier. She couldn't tell if it was a dream or reality.
With a low growl, the chaos finally ended, and she kept her eyes closed, as if it were all just a scene in a dream.
Their breathing gradually calmed, but the scent of their recent passion lingered in the air, as if frozen.
The night was unusually quiet.
After his release, Jack fell into a deep sleep for the first time, forgetting to close the door after it had been opened.
A narrow gap allowed a faint light from the hallway to seep in, but it couldn't break the darkness in the room.
Aimée couldn't stand it any longer and came out of her room.
It had been over an hour, and she thought Jack would have come back to find her by now.
She had waited for a long time, minutes feeling like ages, but Jack never appeared.
She couldn't bear it any longer, even though she had only drunk a little of the drugged wine, she felt extremely uncomfortable.
She thought, if she felt this bad, Jack must feel the same.
She couldn't wait any longer, hurriedly wrapping herself in a cotton nightgown, and quietly walked to Jack's room.
She knocked, but there was no response, the room was dead silent.
Could he have found a Parisian night girl? Impossible!
She knocked desperately, but still no sound from inside.
Aimée was anxious, feeling really uncomfortable.
She had waited over an hour, her body desperately needing a man's comfort, but Jack wouldn't open the door.
Aimée picked up her phone and dialed Jack's number, the ringtone quickly sounded, but it seemed to come from the next room.
Her heart tightened, and she quickly ran to the next room, gently pushing the door open, Alison's room door opened.
A bad feeling surged in her heart.
Jack's phone was in the pocket of his pants by the door, unanswered.
Aimée quietly walked into the room, using the faint light from the hallway, she saw two bodies entangled on the bed—Jack and Alison.
She bit her lip, though she had only drunk a little wine, she was still sober, feeling extremely hurt.
She gently touched Jack's face, the face she had longed for, now possessed by another woman.
She hated Alison, wanted to strangle her, but doing so would get her nothing.
No, she couldn't.
Maybe Jack didn't know who he was with, maybe Alison didn't know either.
Anything was possible.
So, she had a plan.
Jack had to be hers, she wouldn't let go.
Never.
She quickly devised a plan in her mind.