The Substitute Bride Doted by My billionaire Husband

Chapter 428

Chapter 428 He called her Mrs. Augustine
Olive looked up at the man in front of her. Elvis has just finished taking a shower, wearing dark blue silk pajamas. Now his short hair is soaking wet, without a towel, and dripping with water.
The man covered by the refreshing mist of water had disappeared from his usual indifference and became more youthful and handsome which made one blush.
Olive, who was already filled with anger, was suppressed by his harmless handsome face, her voice unconsciously becoming soft, “Elvis, what’s wrong with you? Why did you ask Betty to call me up? Now that Grandma and Betty know, it’s okay if I’m away often, but how will I see them later?”
Elvis stared at her pretty little face, and replied, “Why are you so fierce? Why didn’t you go up when I told you? Besides, Grandma and Betty are both experienced people, what we will do is normal.”
Shameless man!
Olive clenched her small fist and punched him hard on the shoulder.
A gasp sounded.
Elvis saw that she was angry, her skin was thin and she was very shy. So he pretended to groan in pain and pressed on his injured right arm again.
As
expected, Olive was immediately deceived. She forgot that she was still angry, hurriedly looked at his right arm, and asked, “What’s wrong with you? Are you okay? I just hit very lightly…”
“Here.” Elvis took out something and gave it to her.
Olive looked down and saw a big red apple in his hand. She looked at him in surprise, asking, “Did you call me to give me an apple?”
“Don’t you want to eat apples on Christmas Eve? This is yours.”
Olive took the apple with her small hand, “Thank you.”
“Take a bite to see if it’s sweet.” He whispered.

Now his hard chest was in front of the door panel and hers. He was so tall, blocking her light. Their bodies pressed together. He stared at her hotly, wanting her to take a bite of an apple.
Olive bowed her head and took a bite of an apple.
“Is it sweet?”
Olive nodded, “Yes, it is. I’ll give you a bite.”
Olive brought the apple to his lips.
Elvis didn’t eat, his long fingers threading through her hair cupping her cheeks, then he kissed her red lips.
Her lips were fragrant and sweet, with the sweet juice of apples.
Olive didn’t expect that he would kiss her. As she froze, he wrapped his free arm around her slender waist and lifted her up.
Olive couldn’t hold the apple firmly, and with a “pop”, the apple fell to the ground.
“My apple!”
At this point, Elvis tightened his grip on her arms, mercilessly wrapped around her soft, easily broken waist. His low, h oar se voice covered her ears, “Forget the apple, wrap your legs around my
waist.”
Olive shivered, “Elvis, you didn’t ask me to come up and give me an apple. I thought you were so
nice…”
Elvis hissed, interrupting her again, “Hurry, my arm hurts.”
She couldn’t get past the excuse about his arm, hastily reached out her small arms to wrap around his neck, and her slender legs wrapped around his solid waist, but this pose… was so shady. Olive raised her clear eyes to look at him expectantly, only to see Elvis’s narrow, deep, dark eyes in the light of the lamp, burning with passion inside, like molten liquid about to melt her.
He acted very strangely tonight, as if stimulated by something, extremely excited.
“Elvis, what’s wrong with you?” Olive asked.
Elvis slowly raised his right hand and stretched his slender index finger in front of her.
The movement was silent, waiting for her reaction.
Olive looked at this slender index finger, then raised her soft little hand, gently grasped his index finger, and pulled his index finger into her soft palm.
Two faint red flames jumped out from the bottom of Elvis’s eyes, his muscles tensed, he couldn’t contain the turmoil in his heart, his thin lips moved, h oar se low voice said: “Mrs. Augustine.”
Mrs. Augustine.
After such a long time, Olive heard a familiar voice calling Mrs. Augustine.
He called her Mrs. Augustine!
Olive’s pupils contracted and enlarged, “Elvis, you..
Elvis didn’t want to scare her. His memory was incomplete, he didn’t want to tell her. He pursed his lips, “You’re my little bride, aren’t you, Olive?”
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