Chapter 60: I Regret It

In desperation, she didn’t care anything. She closed her teeth and bit into his invading tongue.

Alan put his hand over his mouth in pain. He looked at her in disbelief, "you..."

What a sharp-toothed woman, she dared to bite him.

"Alan, what do you want? Just because you're the boss doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."
Olive freaked out. She wanted to slap him in the face, but she didn't dare.

"I don't want anything. I just want you to give me an answer, an answer about five years ago. Why did
you leave me? Why are you avoiding me?" His eyes were fixed upon hers. It said that eyes were the
Windows of the soul, and that the eyes were the last thing to lie.

Olive averted her eyes from him because she felt guilty, "Alan, you're drunk."

She did not know how to answer him except to deceive him with such an excuse. The truth was in front
of him, but she could not tell him.

She was past the age of adventure, and all she wanted was to live safely with her family for the rest of
her life.

Love was too extravagant for her, especially for such a excellent man. Even if she wanted him, she
couldn't have him.

"Why don't you dare look at me? He forced her to look at him.

At that moment her cell phone rang with a blue glow. It was so late that no one could call her except
Ivy.



Olive seemed to have found a way out. She took advantage of his distraction and pushed him away,
clutching the towel in her arms as she hurried toward the bed.

Alan’s eyes looked deep. He snorted, he strode after her and threw her on the bed. His heavy body
immediately pressed on her, and he bounded her hands and feet. The cell phone, just above her head,
was ringing merrily, but the sound of it, falling on his ear, was jarring.

He glanced at the Caller ID. That man, Ivy, really seemed to haunt her. Alan had heard everything she
had said into the telephone when she had just entered the room. Alan was standing on the balcony at
that moment. Ivy has been telling her to take good care of herself, and they were really hard to part
with.

"It seems that there are many people who like you. There's a man chasing you from Luo city to Sanya."
He mocked her coldly, and jealousy ran rampant in his body.

A man's instincts didn’t go wrong. lvy had a deep and unknown love for her. Perhaps it was because
she was sluggish that she had not noticed it, but it still made him jealous of them. Alan was jealous that
she could follow this man without hesitation. He was also jealous that she and this man could laugh
and play in the street as well as in the crowd without hesitation. However, she was always cold and
distant to him, and her voice sounded so distant and sarcastic, when she talked to him. He hated the
way she treated him, and he wished he could tear off her disguise.

"Alan, what's wrong with you? Have you had enough? If you get drunk, I don't have time for you. Get
up." Her phone was within reach, but he clutched her wrists so tightly that she was out of reach of her
cell phone.

As for Ivy, he smiled gently. He thought she might be asleep, so he did not bother her any more.

When the room fell silent, Alan said suddenly, "Olive, you are my woman."



He heard his blood boil in his body. On the island she said that drunk sex was just an excuse for men.
He did drink a lot tonight, but he was awake, and because of that, he felt like he could not wait to have
sex with her.

He lost his presence of mind for no reason. He was afraid that she might fall in love with that man, Ivy.

His desires always became uncontrollable in her presence, and his self-control was always on the brink
of collapse. Whether she wanted it or not, at this moment, he just wanted to have this woman so hard
and he wanted her face to look less cold.

Olive broke out in a cold sweat, and she wanted to cry, "Alan, you said you wouldn't force me if I didn't
want to."

"I regret it." He said these words as if he had condemned her to death.

He tied her wrists with the robe band he had pulled from the waist of his robe and tied her wrists to the
nightstand. She was like a fish tied to the chopping board, waiting to be slaughtered.

"Alan, don't let me hate you." When all her struggles became futile, Olive quieted down. She only
looked at him with her eyes desperately and sadly.

"If hate is a kind of feeling, I don't mind you hating me."

He rushed into her body as if to prove something. But Olive hasn't had sex for five years. How could
she withstand his thrusting without foreplay or pity? She frowned with pain.

For Alan, his present joy gradually dispelled the anger he had felt before.

Well, over the years, she probably hasn't had sex with another man, and he hasn't had sex with
another woman, too.



His sprints were suddenly gentle, as if he had cherished a hidden treasure.

"Your body is clearly happy, so why are you keeping silent?" He remembered her as a languid cat
nestled in his arms. She never hid her own physical pleasure at that time. So, he hated her cold look at
this mpment.

Olive looked at him coldly and said, "so what do you think I should do now?"


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