Next Man, Better Plan novel Chapter 243

As Quennel leaned in to kiss her, Stephanie instinctively slapped him across the face.

But the effects of the drug hadn't completely worn off, and the slap was so weak it felt more like a caress to Quennel.

He didn't mind at all. His eyes dark, he carried Stephanie back to their former marital home and laid her on the bed.

Stephanie felt incredibly hot, like she was running a fever. She desperately wanted to take off her clothes, but her rational mind screamed at her not to.

Quennel gently touched her cheek with his palm, his voice soft. "Stephanie…"

His palm was cool, and Stephanie instinctively pressed her face against it.

Quennel's brow furrowed.

He knew people in their circle who had used that drug. Yves Jones had said that once taken, it felt like being consumed by fire, but the sensations that followed were bone-deep.

Even a man like Yves was driven to ecstasy and agony by the drug. Quennel figured a woman like Stephanie, with no experience in this area and a lower tolerance, would find it even more unbearable.

He was waiting for her to give in.

But Stephanie just rubbed her cheek against his palm and made no further move.

Quennel pursed his lips and pretended to reach for something on the headboard, but in reality, he moved closer to Stephanie, deliberately brushing his chest against her. His voice was almost a seductive whisper.

"Stephanie, don't you want it?"

Stephanie kept her eyes closed, her face flushed, biting her lip hard to stay lucid.

But an indescribable feeling was slowly eroding her willpower.

Overwhelmed by the discomfort, she began to cry uncontrollably.

Her tears fell like rain on Quennel's heart, nurturing a tender sprout.

Her soft, kitten-like sobs made his heart melt, and her appearance was intensely arousing.

His voice was hoarse. "Stephanie, say it. Do you want it?"

The sound was like a siren's call, drilling into her eardrums. His hot breath was like pouring gasoline on a flame.

He half-lifted her from the bed. "You slept with him? Stephanie, you slept with him, didn't you? You slept with Jonathan?! Stephanie, answer me!"

His voice grew louder with each question, the last one a roar from deep within his chest.

Stephanie's body was suspended in an uncomfortable position. She opened her hazy eyes a crack to see Quennel's magnified face.

Her pink lips parted as if to say something, but only a soft, pained moan escaped.

The sound sent a jolt through Quennel's lower abdomen, making his scalp tingle.

It was Stephanie who had taken the drug, but before she'd even reacted much, Quennel found himself aroused by her soft, vulnerable state.

With her seemingly inexperienced demeanor, how could Stephanie have possibly slept with Jonathan?

Quennel's heart settled back into his chest, and he felt a little more balanced.

He knew Stephanie. She wouldn't just give herself to someone casually. Besides, there were no feelings between her and Jonathan. What was the point of physical pleasure? She wasn't that kind of person.