Sara couldn't guess what was going through his mind, so she decided not to try. She turned to leave.
Before she could take a step, the man suddenly unbuttoned his shirt, stood up, and swept her off her feet.
Sara gasped, caught off guard. Still shaken, she looked up and crashed straight into his deep, burning pupils.
His breath, laced with alcohol, fanned against her face. His gaze was scorching.
"Let me check—just how much weight you've really lost."
It wasn't a request; it was a notification. Before she could answer, he carried her directly into the bathroom.
As expected, Sara was thoroughly conquered.
She hadn't lost weight at all. *When the cat's away, the mice play*—without Adrian around to stress her out, she had actually gained two pounds. The result was a brutal, exhaustive lesson from her husband.
They moved from the bathroom to the bed. Although it was only two rounds, it left Sara so drained she couldn't even lift a finger.
Adrian rarely held back his strength, but physically, she had no complaints. It was the one area where they were perfectly compatible.