Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 36: The Kiss after a Long Separation

Chapter 36: Chapter 36: The Kiss after a Long Separation

She was terrified, her heart skipping a beat!

In broad daylight, at a legitimate five-star hotel, someone dared to kidnap and hold her hostage?

"Hel... mmph—"

Amelia Garcia fought for her life, elbowing backward, stomping wildly with her feet, and thrusting her waist back to bump the person away.

"It’s me!"

Poor Christopher Hart, struck in the chest by her elbow and stepped on the toes by her high heels, sweated coldly in pain.

However, amidst the excruciating pain, the close physical contact triggered distant memories.

Benny Palmer’s words suddenly echoed in his ears—yet at this youthful, physically prime age, having abstained for over four years.

Yes, these past four-plus years, he had almost been like a monk.

Embracing the woman again, it felt as though his withered life was instantly revived, every cell stirring up, clamoring for more.

He must have been chaste for too long, he was almost psychologically twisted...

The man, holding her with one hand and covering her mouth with the other, whispered "It’s me, it’s me" several times in her ear, but she paid no attention.

Eventually, he had no choice but to endure the sharp pain, turn her body around against the wall, and simultaneously turned on the light switch with one hand.

Amelia Garcia stared at the face before her, gasping from shock and fright.

Christopher Hart?

Amelia Garcia glared at him for a full ten seconds, then suddenly lashed out like a cat with raised fur, furiously beating him with her hands and feet.

"Are you sick? I told you I’m not Amelia Garcia! When will you ever stop?!"

"One blocks me in the restroom, and the other waits in the hallway; you two really are a match made in heaven! Perfect couple!"

"Don’t think just because you have power and influence that you can do whatever you want!"

"Piss me off, and I’ll still make you regret it! Don’t believe me, just try!"

Initially, the man let her rant and rave angrily, but his expression darkened instantly when he heard "blocked in the restroom."

"Who blocked you? Lily Garcia?"

But they were dining on the first floor, how did Lily Garcia end up on the second floor?

He had deliberately left Lily Garcia at the restroom and sneaked up to the second floor to intercept.

"Who else! I told you to stop bothering me, your fiancée still thinks I’m after you, repeatedly warning me, even framing me!"

Amelia Garcia ranted angrily, then turned to leave.

But having finally caught her, how could the man let her go easily?

His arm pulled her back again and slammed her against the wall.

Before she could even struggle or resist, his other hand forcefully grasped her chin.

The shadow quickly enveloped her, and before Amelia Garcia could react, her mouth was covered by a rich, intense scent, and her whole head and spine were tightly pressed against the wall.

Shock, petrified.

Frozen like a statue.

Christopher Hart... that bastard, he actually forced a kiss!

It was utterly outrageous!

A familiar sensation swept over her, bone-deep.

After more than four years, he was still the same, kissing without any tenderness, desperately intense as if he wanted to devour her completely.

Wasn’t Lily Garcia enough for him?

It was as if he hadn’t touched a woman in eight hundred years.

A moment of rational sinking, but fortunately, anger quickly took over, jolting her awake.

Amelia Garcia struggled fiercely, cursing...

Yet, the man entrapping her, relished like one who had tasted marrow and wanted more, not only did he not let go but became even more frantic and addicted.

He was too tall, and the woman felt like her neck would break.

At the time of their marriage, their relationship had already broken down.

After three years of marriage, he didn’t have any romantic obsession towards her, so their intimacy took place only late at night, in bed before sleep—it felt more like fulfilling a duty.

Lying flat, she didn’t find kissing him to be difficult; in fact, she even enjoyed it slightly.

But now, standing face to face, although he also bowed his head and stooped his neck, she still felt her neck straining.

Her chin was controlled by his robust and forceful hand, her face changing directions following his kisses—Amelia Garcia felt her neck was about to be twisted off.

"Mmm... let go! Bastard... damn... Christopher Hart!" She struggled ceaselessly, cursing and shouting, but most of her words were either forced back or swallowed.

Worried about being discovered, the consequences unimaginable, she managed to free one leg during her struggle and, without a second thought, swiftly lifted it, aiming for his lower abdomen.

However, this time it was not successful.

The man caught her knee with one hand, narrowly escaping while his other arm hooked around and he pulled her leg to his waist to secure it.

This position...

Amelia Garcia suddenly found herself standing on one leg, so embarrassed she wanted to die!

If it were not for his strong, upright body pinned against the wall, she would definitely have lost her balance and fallen flat on her face.

"Let me go!"

"Wasn’t it you who approached me willingly?"

"..." Amelia clenched her teeth; he was too shameless!

The man stopped his passionate kissing, his deep gaze laden with a hot intensity, steadfastly staring at her.

Their posture was indescribably ambiguous.

"Miss Norton, how do you explain that this little mouth kisses exactly like that of my former wife?"

The man spoke, his low and husky tone thick with teasing mockery, just like a ruffian.

Amelia Garcia stood on one leg, leaning towards him as much as possible to maintain her balance, her eyes furious, wishing she could tear the smile off his face!

"Any woman’s kiss would feel like this! Haven’t you kissed your fiancée?"

Dealing with a shameless person required becoming even more shameless to have a slight chance of winning.

"Are you so concerned about whether I’ve kissed others because you are jealous?" he raised an eyebrow, his handsome face drawing closer again.

"..." Amelia Garcia was at a loss for words and silently turned her face away.

"Speak."

"..."

"It seems I must force you to talk."

His hand reached for her again, and before the woman could dodge, he pinned her chin once more.

"Christopher Hart! Enough!" Amelia Garcia was furious, her hands pressing against his shoulders to create distance between them.

But one of her legs was still in his hand, half-straddling his waist.

The woman’s face was blood-red.

She should have left promptly after encountering Benny Palmer; she truly regretted it!

"Why didn’t you tell me about the pregnancy back then?"

"How could I be pregnant if we weren’t married?"

"If I had known you were pregnant, perhaps... I wouldn’t have divorced," the man’s eyes deep and sincere, fixed on her averted face, not seeming like lies.

"Mr. Hart, can you stop making assumptions? I’m really not your former wife. Isn’t she dead? If you feel remorseful towards her, you can go kneel at her grave! Knocking your head a few times works too."

Amelia Garcia finally turned to face him, her tone icy and mocking.

Speaking of graves...

Christopher Hart suddenly became curious: "What exactly is buried in that tomb of yours? Just clothing and a burial mound?"