Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1348: I’ll Carry You to the Bath

Chapter 1348: Chapter 1348: I’ll Carry You to the Bath

Disheveled strands of hair cascaded down, resting on her shoulders, half-hiding her face.

Sylvan Cheney reached out to part her tangled hair, gazing at her serene visage.

When she slept, the scratchy little claws she had would retract, resembling a well-behaved rabbit.

"Jasy," he called her.

She didn’t respond.

Sylvan Cheney had no choice but to lift her from the chair.

He carried her towards the bedroom.

Maybe it was the strong scent on him, or perhaps he walked too briskly, Jasmine Yale stirred slightly, rubbing her eyes.

In her drowsy state, she saw Sylvan Cheney.

Entering the living room, Sylvan Cheney walked with her to his own bedroom.

Butler Santana’s eyes bulged — wasn’t that Miss Yale? When did Miss Yale return? Why is she only appearing now?

She saw clear love marks on Jasmine Yale’s exposed neck.

Just now, she noticed kiss marks and bite traces on Sylvan’s body, and now...

Clearly, Mr. Cheney had been with Miss Yale tonight.

Butler Santana was pleased at heart; Mr. Cheney cared for Miss Yale, and it couldn’t be better for them to be together.

Upstairs, Sylvan Cheney carried Jasmine Yale into the bedroom, heading straight for the large bed.

"Sylvan Cheney," she woke up, slowly calling his name.

"Uh?"

"I’m very disappointed in you."

Sylvan Cheney’s hand paused.

For a long while, he said nothing.

His actions didn’t stop; he laid her on the bed and started to undo her clothing.

Jasmine Yale seemed to have cried again, her face streaked with tears.

Lying on his bed once more, she didn’t know what to feel, as if she had lost all feeling.

"I’m going to bathe you," Sylvan Cheney said expressionlessly.

"I won’t bathe."

"Don’t be stubborn, you have to bathe."

He had already removed her jacket and was planning to take off her sweater too.

Sylvan Cheney, bending over, his fingers touched her clothes.

His long lashes, high nose bridge, so close they were nearly touching.

Suddenly, Jasmine Yale reached out to hook his neck, flipped over, and pressed him down.

He may be a sick tiger, but she wasn’t; she was perfectly fine.

Their positions became ambiguous.

In the struggle, Sylvan’s bathrobe opened at the collar, exposing his chest, a sight most pleasing.

"Stop messing around, get up," he said in a lowered voice, his throat moving.

This demeanor of Jasmine Yale aroused the response he had suppressed.

Jasmine Yale looked down, pressed against his chest, her cool lips suddenly kissing his.

Sylvan Cheney forcefully held her shoulders down and flung her off him.

Sitting up in bed, he gave Jasmine Yale beside him a cold glare: "Who did you learn this from? Hmm?"

Jasmine Yale, tossed onto the plush bed, her hair splayed out, returned his glance indifferently: "Whose good teaching could it be but yours?"

"Take a bath!"

"I want it."

"Jasmine Yale, have you gone mad?"

"Uh-huh, mad. Sylvan Cheney, I will go crazier when I return to Cakago tomorrow," Jasmine Yale lay on the bed motionless, her eyes hollow.

"What do you plan to do? Don’t lose your mind!" Sylvan Cheney suddenly felt fear clutch at his heart.

He knew exactly what kind of person Jasmine Yale was.

Either she was quiet and compliant, or rebellious like a little wolf that nobody could suppress.

Her nature was wild; although she had listened to him for over a decade, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t rebel against him.

"If you refuse to satisfy me, naturally someone else will be willing to, just like that," Jasmine Yale said blandly, her eyes void of light.