Flash Marriage: Slow Down Mister

The following early morning.

When Clara woke up, Horace had freshened up and was standing in front of the mirror, buttoning up his shirt.

His buttons were still mostly unbuttoned, exposing a little of his chest, firm and white, his muscles well defined and as perfect as a work of art.

Clara didn't expect to see such a thing so early in the morning, and she was a little dumbfounded.

Noticing Clara's confused look in the mirror, the corners of Horace's mouth lifted slightly in an imperceptible curve, and his low voice rang out, "What? Are you still satisfied?" Clara then returned to her senses and froze for a moment before realising that Horace had asked if she was happy with his body.

She blushed and averted her eyes.

Horace raised an eyebrow as he watched the young woman look away in panic, a hint of displeasure flashing in his eyes.

Ignoring the few buttons still scattered across his chest, he turned to Clara's side of the bed and leaned down, cupping her chin and forcing her gaze back to his.

"Clara," Horace whispered, his voice low and sexy, "see if you want to, I'm not charging you."

Clara's eyes rounded.

Was it just her? Why did she think that Horace, the guy, was getting shameless in his words?

Clara couldn't beat Horace for cheekiness, and she blushed even more at the slight exposure of his firm chest in front of her.

Fearing Horace would see how nervous she was, she could only change the subject haphazardly, "So... do you think your grandfather will know that we didn't have sex last night?" Horace's eyebrow tilted, leaning a few more inches lower, "Maybe, so?"

"So..." such proximity made Clara increasingly flustered and spoke without thinking, "So will we be scolded..."

Horace's eyebrow raised even higher, "Clara, are you implying something to me?"

Clara froze, and when she realised it, she wanted to bite her tongue!

She was stupid to bring that up!

"I didn't mean it..." she said in a panic, afraid that Horace would take it the wrong way.

"That's not what you meant? Then what do you mean?" Horace gave a soft laugh, his breath blowing on the tip of Clara's nose as he spoke, "Don't you know that men are most sexually active in the morning?" Clara's face was as red as a tomato, and her words stuttered even more, "I, I'm not..."

Horace had been joking, but he hadn't expected the little woman in front of him to take it seriously. Instead of showing such a flustered expression, the curve of his mouth couldn't help but increase.

"Just kidding." He whispered, and before Clara could sigh of relief at those words, the second half of Horace's following sentence had her entire nerves tightening again, "But... your concerns have a bit of a point, so we'd better do something about it."

"Huh?" Clara panicked, and before she could ask Horace what he would do, Horace leaned down and buried his head between Clara's pale neck.

"Ah!" Clara was startled and tried to struggle, but as if Horace had foreseen it, he snapped her hands together with one hand, leaving her pinned to the bedding, unable to move, "Horace... what are you doing! You, what are you doing..."

The wet, tickling sensation came from between her neck; Clara was terrified and tried to cry out in horror, but the tingling sensation spread throughout her body, and by the time she said the second half of the sentence, her voice could not help but tremble slightly.

It was long before Horace slowly straightened up and looked at the stark red marks on Clara's fair neck, the corners of his mouth curled up into a satisfied arc.

"That should do the trick," Horace whispered as he looked at the tiny woman blushing in front of him.

Only then did Clara react to something and hurriedly pushed Horace away, jumped up from the bed and rushed to the mirror next to her.

Seeing herself in the mirror, Clara froze in her tracks.

She saw herself in the mirror, her face flushed, her eyes shining, with an unfamiliar flirtatious look on her brows.

Was this... still her?

But that was not even the most important thing.

What mattered most was the strawberry mark on her neck, which was more obvious!

"Horace!" she couldn't help but have a few moments of anger, "How could you... I can't go out and meet people like this!"

Horace had walked up to Clara's back and naturally wrapped his arms around her waist, laughing lightly, "I'm just leaving my mark."

Clara glared at Horace, but there was nothing she could do about it but change her clothes.

Martha had prepared her clothes to return when she arrived last night.

In fact, after marrying Horace, Horace had asked someone to buy her many clothes, but they were all too expensive, and Clara didn't wear them because she thought they were too high-profile.

The dress that Martha prepared for her this time was one of those dresses, an ordinary-looking halter dress, but with an excellent cut and material that made her look elegant.

The only downside was that it was a halter dress, so the strawberry mark around her neck was also visible.

Clara didn't have any concealer with her, so she had to put on a little foundation to cover it up, and then she went downstairs with Horace.

Russell, Sean, Darren and Ashlee were already eating breakfast in the dining room.

Seeing Horace's late arrival, Sean's face sank, "Horace, you're a bit slow, aren't you, making Grandpa wait for you?"

"Isn't Grandpa already eating?" Horace's wheelchair slowly slid to the table, his expression calm, "I was a bit busy last night, so I slept late."

The phrase "a little busy last night" was evocative, and everyone at the table looked at Clara next to him.

Russell's eyes lit up as he saw the marks on Clara's neck, and he immediately said to the butler next to him, "Rodney, you help me stew a bowl of the bird's nest I brought back from Indonesia a while ago for Clara."

Clara was a little flattered, "Thank you, Grandpa."

Seeing Russell's concern for Clara, Sean's face changed slightly, especially Ashlee's, whose eyes were so jealous that they could almost spitfire.

Darren couldn't help but look at Clara a couple more times, and soon he saw the apparent red mark on her neck.

His hand under the table involuntarily squeezed tighter in a flash, and his body tensed up!

Although he had long felt that something must have happened between Clara and Horace, seeing it with his own eyes made him feel like a monster was roaring in his chest!

Not only that, but looking at Clara's slightly flushed face and the flirtatious look in her eyes, he couldn't help imagining the scenes of Clara and Horace last night...