It seemingly took all of Ashlyn’s energy to say that.
After screaming, she lay in bed unmoving, as though she had passed out once again.
Lucas stared at Ashlyn’s pale face, his eyes narrowing.
What did she just say?
She was calling out to me!
She’s waiting for me.
His heart pounded wildly; it was about to leap out of his chest.
Unable to control himself any longer, he pressed his lips against Ashlyn’s.
An indescribable wave of passion filled the room.
Two hours later, Lucas walked into the bathroom, all drenched in sweat.
Ashlyn’s body temperature had regulated, and her cheeks were no longer red. All that remained were the traces of their intimacy.
She was back to normal.
Lucas carried her in his arms, cleaned her up briefly, and placed her back on the bed.
He also changed the bedsheets and blanket—all by himself.
The sheets were completely soaked, just like when her Spirogyra flared up at Bayview Villa.
He didn’t understand any of this back then, but he did now.
Is there really no cure?
Lucas whipped out his phone and dialed a number.
Late at night in New York, Sinclair was fast asleep with a blonde beauty in his arms.
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