Wrong marriage and sweet love (Joyce and Luther) novel Chapter 1929

Chapter 1929: Things We Love to Do

In a short while, Anderson also washed his hands and hurried over. The seaside was cool, and the family gathered around the bonfire, enjoying a warm and comforting hot pot.

The sound of the waves echoed incessantly in their ears, never-ending.

With premium ingredients such as geoduck, king crab, rare shellfish, and thinly sliced turbot, coupled with Wagyu beef and specially crafted sauces, Luther had practically transported a high-end restaurant to the seaside. This was the epitome of indulgence.

After dinner, the sky had turned completely dark. The boundless night sky hung over them like a dome, with countless stars enveloping the horizon, like the Milky Way within arm's reach.

Joyce lay nestled in Luther's arms, holding onto his waist, while Luther rested a hand on her swollen belly, feeling the excitement of the unborn child.

In front of them, the bonfire brewed fragrant tea, its aroma mingling with the salty sea breeze.

Meanwhile, Anderson and Alisha played happily in the glow of the fire, a scene of extraordinary warmth.

"Are you tired? I can carry you to the tent for a while," Luther whispered softly. "Aaron will watch the children, and the guards are nearby."

"But I haven't helped Alisha take a bath yet," Joyce murmured. "Once they tire themselves out from playing, it will be time for bed."

When the camper van had just arrived, she had taken a bath first, and only then had she prepared dinner.

"It's okay, you lie down for a while. Alisha is still young, I will help her wash," Luther gently stroked her hair.

Joyce was indeed a bit tired. She hadn't been able to rest at noon and had been busy, and now, in the warm embrace, her eyelids grew heavier.

"Alright, but you have to watch them," she nodded.

Luther got up and carefully lifted Joyce. "Do you still not trust me?" he teased.

Joyce buried her head in his chest and chuckled softly.

Luther carried Joyce to the tent. It had a door, windows, and a living room. He placed her gently on the bed inside the room and lay down beside her, drawing her into his embrace.

"Rest against me for a while," Luther said, as his long fingers lightly traced her cheek, caressing her back and forth.

Joyce closed her eyes, savoring his touch. Suddenly, she felt her forehead grow damp, knowing he was kissing her there.

She indulged him, letting go without a care.

Her indulgence only emboldened Luther. He proceeded to kiss her lightly on the corners of her eyes, then her cheeks, finally gently pressing his lips against hers.

At first, it was just a shallow peck, but gradually, he lost control, delving into a deep kiss.

Finally, he cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss continuously, becoming more and more passionate, until his breath grew increasingly erratic, difficult to contain.

Though Joyce was intoxicated by his kiss, she still retained a degree of clarity.

"Don't do this here, there's light inside, and there will be reflections in the tent. And..." she paused, feeling a bit shy, "I really don't have the energy."

Luther lightly pecked her. "I know, I'll just hold you."

He drew closer to her, itching to be intimate, but this kind of intimacy was undoubtedly a case of grasping at straws, bringing no relief, only making it harder to bear.

Sensing his tension, Joyce knew he was struggling.

Feeling sorry for his restraint, she sighed, "Forget it, I'll help you."

With that, she reluctantly covered him with her hand.

After a long while, when Luther finally found satisfaction, he let out a long breath, his expression filled with contentment. Joyce, exhausted, lay limp in his arms, not saying a word, falling into a deep sleep.