Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1152: He Belongs to Her Alone

Mort was momentarily unable to distinguish between dreams and reality; he had been dreaming of her every night lately.

That night’s dream felt so real, with her lying on his bed just like now. Her soft, jade-like body contrasted sharply with the cold, hard wooden bed, driving him mad. But when he opened his eyes, that person turned into Kate.

Dianna lay beside him; while he was dozing, she touched his handsome face. They had been apart for so long, and she hadn’t properly looked at him.

Yu Jie shivered slightly and softly said, "You’re awake?"

Her familiar voice reached Mort’s eardrum, and he dared to believe it was really her. He grasped her small hand and placed it at his lips, closing his eyes as he kissed it, "Mm."

He didn’t leave; his dry lips kept brushing against her soft little hand, kissing it tenderly and lovingly.

Dianna felt a warmth in her heart, yet she couldn’t help minding about him and Kate. She slowly withdrew her little hand.

Mort opened his eyes, pursed his thin lips, and said, "I know you can’t get past it. The mistake has been made, and all I can say is, I’m sorry."

"But I don’t want to hear sorry. I want to know when you and Kate got together, where did it happen, how many times have you been together? I want you to confess every detail to me. That’s what I want to hear!"

Mort furrowed his brow; he couldn’t bring himself to speak about that night’s events.

Mort threw off the covers and got up.

Dianna also sat up, "Where are you going?"

"I’m going to wash my face." He went into the bathroom.

Dianna was furious; she knew he was avoiding the issue and still wasn’t willing to say anything.

Soon Mort came out, taking off his shirt to reveal his injuries and muscular body. His damp bangs covered his red-stained eyes as he bent his tall frame to grab clean clothes.

But Dianna’s small hand reached out and took away his clothes.

Mort lifted his handsome gaze to look at her, his thin lips moving, "Give me the clothes!"

"No." Dianna glanced up and down his strong body, "Do you even need clothes? I don’t think you need clothes anymore. A man like you, who can’t guarantee body loyalty and is ruled by a few ounces of flesh, should have his clothes stripped and be paraded through the streets. Let you taste the ancient punishments women suffered!"

In ancient times, women caught in affairs would be stripped and paraded through the streets.

Mort stared at her, his gaze deep.

Dianna wasn’t afraid of him and looked back at him provocatively.

Mort said nothing and simply sat on the chair with his long legs, starting to change his bandage.

She wouldn’t let him wear clothes, so he didn’t wear them.

She was full of anger and hatred and wanted to lash out at him, but he indulged her.

He knew she was a wild cat who wouldn’t let him off easily.

Perhaps other girls would choose to escape and deceive themselves about such things, but not her. She faced the problem sharply.

She wanted to know all the details.

Yet, he just couldn’t speak.

He wanted to preserve a final slice of beauty in her heart.

Dianna felt like she was punching cotton. No matter how she provoked him, he ignored her.

Dianna watched him apply medication to himself, placing the herbs on his wounds.

Even though there were wounds on his back too, he treated what he could reach with his long arms, and what he couldn’t, he simply left alone.

Dianna looked at his body; these unsightly scars didn’t ruin his physical beauty but added a sense of wildness and recklessness.

No wonder so many women were drawn to him; his physique was enough to make them drool.

Have you ever seen those foreign movies where the men have muscles stacked in blocks? That’s him, with two prominent chest muscles, eight-pack abs built in layers, all shining with a bronze-like, powerful sheen. His chest had hair, his strong long legs also covered in hair—truly stirring the blood.

Dianna, though young, with a well-proportioned development and a striking S-curve, truly stood in contrast next to him—a hardened man paired with a little beauty.

Dianna’s five pale fingers slowly curled, hating her own helplessness. Even now, he still had a fatal attraction for her.

She just liked him.

She liked his type.

Mort finished tending his wounds, then turned back to the bed, lying on his side at the edge.

His long, curling lashes like a brush fell as he closed his eyes to sleep.

He slept.

Was he really just going to fall asleep like that?

Dianna stretched out her jade-like little foot and kicked his solid calf, "Did I say you could sleep? No sleeping, get up!"

Mort lay with his back to her, his tall, strong body pressed against the edge of the bed, not coming closer to her. Being kicked, he lazily spoke, "Stop it, I’m a bit tired, want to sleep."

"Tired? So how come you didn’t feel tired when messing around with Kate?"

Mort did not reply.

Dianna kicked him again.

At that moment, his rough palm reached over and grabbed her slender wrist.

Mort pulled hard, and Dianna fell flat against his strong chest.

She immediately wanted to get up, but Mort let out a low grunt.

Dianna then realized she’d hit his wound, "Cain, are you okay?"

She collided with Mort’s dark, unhappy eyes. He hoarsely said, "If you settle down for a bit, I’ll be fine."

Dianna still wanted to get up when suddenly there was a "knock-knock" at the door; someone was outside.

Who?

Dianna paused her actions, and outside, Kate’s gentle voice came through, "Mort, it’s me, I’m here to change your bandage. Can I come in?"

Kate was here!

That haunting woman again!

Dianna initially thought about getting up, but then changed her mind; even if she didn’t want Cain, she wouldn’t let him fall into Kate’s hands.

She immediately wrapped her two little arms tightly around Mort’s waist, clinging to him like an octopus.

Mort just felt the fragrant softness in his embrace. The girl who had been struggling moments ago to avoid being held suddenly melted like water against him, and his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed, "What’s the matter?"

Dianna buried her face in his neck, climbing further up, murmuring, "I don’t like her; make her go away."

Her voice was soft and sweet, carrying an unrecognized hint of grievance and pettiness. Mort’s heart ached, and he quickly responded, "Who’s blind enough not to see we’re already asleep?"

Outside, Kate froze, "..."

Dianna didn’t let go, still holding Mort tightly; she didn’t want any other woman to take him away. He could only belong to her.