Chapter 262: Chapter 262: You’re Not Allowed to Be With Him, You Have to Be With Me
"Ngh..." Ivy Sherwood’s eyes widened as she was forced to endure the man’s rough kiss.
The taste of alcohol filled her mouth. Quentin Blackwood still had her wrist in a tight grip, giving her no chance to struggle.
Ivy Sherwood felt like a mountain was crushing her. With her breath cut off, she could hardly breathe.
"Quen... Quentin..." She choked out his name, a whimper escaping her throat.
To Quentin Blackwood, her voice was like a catalyst. Already stripped of his reason, he now surrendered completely to his instincts.
"Quentin Blackwood..." She called his name, her faint voice sounding almost like she was being coquettish.
It was less of a kiss and more of a bite.
Quentin Blackwood’s other hand was on her waist, caressing her skin.
Her waist was a sensitive spot for Ivy Sherwood. Quentin Blackwood’s palm was scorching hot, and every place he touched felt as if it had been burned.
Ivy Sherwood was no match for Quentin Blackwood’s strength.
Seeing that her struggles were useless, she simply gave up and let Quentin Blackwood kiss her.
When Quentin Blackwood felt the woman beneath him grow still, his movements softened a little.
His lips finally left Ivy Sherwood’s, but they didn’t leave her body. They traveled down, planting a dense trail of kisses on her chin and neck.
Ivy Sherwood finally let out a breath of relief, only to realize something was wrong.
"Quentin Blackwood, what exactly are you trying to do? We’re over. It’s not appropriate for us to be doing... this," Ivy Sherwood reminded him.
’Is he just doing this because he’s drunk, acting on his masculine instincts? What if he sobers up and regrets it? What if he thinks I seduced him on purpose?’
Quentin Blackwood didn’t hear most of Ivy Sherwood’s long sentence. Only the words "we’re over" flashed repeatedly in his mind.
"Over?" Quentin Blackwood gripped Ivy Sherwood’s chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.
"I don’t permit it. After we’re over, who are you planning to start over with?" Quentin Blackwood forced his voice to remain steady, his mind raging with jealousy.
Ivy Sherwood: "..."
’Didn’t Quentin Blackwood say it was over himself? So what’s this now? Does he regret it?’
"President Blackwood, you must have a short memory for someone so important. You were the one who ended things last time," Ivy Sherwood reminded him.
"I regret it."
The words struck her like a clap of thunder. Ivy Sherwood’s pupils dilated; she thought she must have misheard.
’Quentin Blackwood actually said he regrets it?’
’What does he regret?’
"Quentin Blackwood, saying things like that could easily give someone the wrong idea." Ivy Sherwood’s heart pounded. She really might misunderstand what he meant.
Quentin Blackwood was on top of her, his eyes fixed on hers. The expression in them was complex, but the storm within gradually subsided, replaced by an endless depth.
Quentin Blackwood was never one for words; he expressed himself through actions.
He leaned down again, trying to kiss Ivy Sherwood, but she raised a hand to block him. Quentin Blackwood’s kiss landed on her palm instead.
"Quentin Blackwood, don’t you have anything you want to say?" Her beautiful eyes were full of life.
Quentin Blackwood’s Adam’s apple bobbed. "I do. You’re not allowed to have dinner alone with Seth Scott."
Ivy Sherwood: "..."
"You’re not allowed to be with him," the man continued.
"I’m..." ’...not with him.’
Before Ivy Sherwood could finish, she heard Quentin Blackwood say, "Be with me."
In that moment, Ivy Sherwood’s world stood still.
Ivy Sherwood’s mind went blank, Quentin Blackwood’s words echoing in her ears. ’Be with me...’
’Does Quentin Blackwood know what he’s saying?’
’Is he serious?’
Quentin Blackwood’s lips brushed against Ivy Sherwood’s palm again. She felt a tingling numbness spread through her hand. The moment she moved it away, Quentin Blackwood captured her lips with his.
But this time, the kiss wasn’t as fierce as before. Instead, it was incredibly gentle.
The two figures were entwined on the sofa. Quentin Blackwood kissed Ivy Sherwood all over before she finally stopped him.
"It’s too late. I should go home," Ivy Sherwood said, trying to sit up.
Quentin Blackwood lifted her into his arms. "Mm, let’s go home."
He held her in a princess carry, just like before.
’Ivy Sherwood is still so light. Has she lost weight again?’
"Put me down! Quick, put me down! You’re so drunk you can barely stand. You’re going to fall!"
Ivy Sherwood struggled out of Quentin Blackwood’s arms. He was indeed still very dizzy; he even felt like this was all a dream.
"Then you can support me."
"I’ll support you."
Quentin Blackwood’s voice was low. "You have to support me for a lifetime."
"What?" Ivy Sherwood hadn’t heard him clearly.
But Quentin Blackwood didn’t say it again.
’Did Quentin Blackwood just say something about a lifetime? I must have misheard.’ she thought, staring at him.
Ivy Sherwood helped Quentin Blackwood downstairs. Her car was just outside. She opened the front passenger door for him, but he pulled her toward the back seat.
"You want to sit in the back? Fine, get in. Buckle up, I’ll be your driver."
But after Quentin Blackwood got in, he didn’t let go of Ivy Sherwood’s hand. Instead, he forcefully wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in with him.
"I have to drive! Are you drunk or not? Can you even hear me, Mr. Blackwood?"
But Quentin Blackwood simply wrapped both arms around her, pulling Ivy Sherwood into his embrace.
He rested his chin on her shoulder, closed his eyes, and breathed in her unique scent.
’This feels like a dream. It must be a dream. If I wake up, Ivy Sherwood might run away.’
Ivy Sherwood didn’t dare to move a muscle, her heart hammering as if it would burst from her chest. ’Mr. Blackwood is so clingy tonight. Is this what he’s like when he’s drunk?’
’Not many people have probably seen this side of Mr. Blackwood. And the things he said... did he really mean what I think he meant?’
She didn’t dare to hope that Quentin Blackwood could have feelings for her too. She never thought she had the power to pull a holy prodigy down from his pedestal.
’Forget it. I’ll wait until Quentin Blackwood sobers up tomorrow to have a proper talk with him. This might just be a drunken impulse.’
After a long while, Ivy Sherwood called Quentin Blackwood’s name. "Quentin Blackwood..."
"Quentin Blackwood?"
Quentin Blackwood didn’t move. ’Don’t tell me he’s fallen asleep?’
She shifted and realized it seemed he had. But Quentin Blackwood was holding her too tightly, one of his hands still clutching hers.
Ivy Sherwood wanted to break free and get in the driver’s seat, but she found she couldn’t even pry his hand away.
’Forget it. I’ll just call a designated driver.’
Even though she hadn’t been drinking, she reeked of alcohol now.
The designated driver arrived quickly, and Ivy Sherwood gave the address for Norhaven.
Ordinary cars weren’t allowed into Norhaven, but the guards saw it was the boss and waved them right through.
Ivy Sherwood even had the butler call for help. With two people supporting Quentin Blackwood on either side, they finally managed to carry him back inside, leaving Ivy drenched in sweat from the effort.
Unsure if Quentin Blackwood would wake up in the middle of the night, Ivy Sherwood went to the kitchen herself to cook him some millet congee. His sensitive stomach would surely be suffering. She also needed to prepare some sobering soup.
Not knowing if he would feel sick or throw up during the night, Ivy Sherwood stayed by his side the whole time.
"Sleep. I’m here watching over you," Ivy Sherwood said softly.
Looking at Quentin Blackwood fast asleep on the bed, his face still so handsome, she couldn’t resist reaching out and poking his cheek.
’His skin is so nice, his features and profile so perfect.’ His brow, however, was still furrowed tightly. Ivy Sherwood’s fingers gently smoothed over his brow, and as if sensing her touch, his expression gradually relaxed.
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