The Billionaire’s Treasure Wife

After closing the door, Lindsey leaned against the frame and looked at him indifferently with her arms folded over her chest.

Bruce was slightly distracted, but his face was a pleasant smile and he stared at her in silence.

The room was silent, the sound of each other’s unsteady heartbeats and rapid breathing, unusually clear in the deceptively quiet atmosphere.

After a long moment, Bruce blinked and controlled the wheelchair as it slid towards her. The thin ‘click’ of the wheelchair as it glided, fading to a halt.

“Lindsey, it’s time for you to change your medication.” Bruce tilted his head slightly and as far as the eye could see, there was her perfectly shaped collarbone, and further up, the natural glow of her pink lips and the coolness of her eyes.

Lindsey stood tall, her eyes lingering on his brow for a second before calmly moving away.

Straightening up, she lowered her arms and lifted her feet to leave. As she staggered past, Lindsey withdrew the ointment from his hand in a sharp, decisive movement, her steps incredibly quick.

The vibration of the door closing, with a strong trailing sound, hovered around the room for a long time before disappearing completely.

Bruce slowly withdrew his hand, which was frozen in mid-air, and calmly turned his wheelchair, sliding it towards the door of her bedroom.

“After three polite knocks, he took a deep breath and said tentatively, “Lindsey, open the door and I’ll leave when I’ve finished.”

The room was quiet and the air around him seemed to freeze.

Bruce heard his own heartbeat, growing more and more chaotic and manic.

Just as he was about to lose control, Lindsey’s indifferent voice scraped through the door like a feather against his ear. “I’m tired, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, so make sure you get there early.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, curled his index finger and flicked it on the armrest of his wheelchair a few times, a meaningful smile on his lips as he turned away calmly.

She was back and she wouldn’t let him hug her, so it looked like she would have to do something about it.

Relieved that the noise outside the door was fading, Lindsey grabbed her pyjamas and went to take a shower.

After she had finished, she reluctantly applied the ointment in front of the mirror and returned to her bedroom in her pyjamas, exhausted.

The maid had brought over some calming incense and Lindsey flopped down on the bed, closed her eyes and sniffed.

She didn’t know how long she had been asleep, but she felt a little heavy, as if a hand was on her body, caressing it without any care.

In the midst of her helpless and disorienting struggle, the clean, crisp breath of a man rushed in at the tip of her nose, and the warmth of her palm was frighteningly hot.

Lindsey dared not open her eyes, half-asleep, half-awake, and catered to the sensations that seemed to be real and illusory, her senses gradually becoming disoriented. In the torment of longing and resistance, her body seemed to be on fire, desperate to be filled.

A fleeting thought caused an uncontrollable shudder to run through Lindsey’s mind, and her eyes snapped open.

There was no one around her, and the cold moonlight poured in through the cracks in the curtains, creating a streak of light on the log floor.

Lindsey sat up in dismay, subconsciously clutching her arms, her cheeks burning hotly.

Damn … the thought of having an erotic dream made her want to choke Bruce to death.

The second session began with Lindsey rescheduling the application of needles to the evening, as instructed by Master Roy.

Dr Hunter had to attend an international academic forum for half a month, so she had to do the rest of the treatment herself.

After the needles were administered, she ordered the nurse to move Bruce to his bedroom and, exhausted, she went back to her courtyard, took a shower and fell asleep.

The next few days of treatment consisted mainly of tui na, supplemented by the remedies prescribed by Master Roy.

That night, after giving Bruce a massage, she went back to her room to drift off to sleep for a short while, when the door was suddenly banged loudly.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“What’s wrong?” Lindsey asked, scrambling into her pyjamas and getting ready to get up.

“Mr. Grant has a sudden high fever and no one is allowed near him.” The nurse who spoke was one of Dr. Hunter’s staff.

Lindsey frowned, reached over and unscrewed the bedside lamp, quickly slipped on her slippers and opened the door.

There was a door connecting the back yards of the two offshoots, and Lindsey followed the nurse next door, straight to Bruce’s bedroom, and pushed the door in.

There was Hector, Cary and two nurses in the room, and Bruce was lying on the bed with his eyes red and looking in pain.

“What other symptoms are there besides fever.” Lindsey asked and immediately sat down on the edge of the bed to check Bruce’s pulse.

Hector touched his nose and replied quickly, “Just feverish and manic.”

Lindsey pursed her lips and frowned slightly on both eyebrows, tasting the pulse for a moment, then asked, “What’s his temperature?”

“Just before you arrived, 38. 5 degrees.” Hector had just finished speaking when Bruce suddenly sat up from the bed, his eyes fishy red as he pushed Lindsey away, “Get out, get out!”

Lindsey stumbled at his push and was so angry that she immediately barked orders at Hector. “Slap him out!”

Hector gave her a small nod, turned his head and exchanged glances with Cary, and without moving his head, walked around behind Bruce and slammed his palm into the side of his neck just below his ear.

Bruce didn’t even grunt and fell straight backwards.

Lindsey gave Hector an approving look and calmly ordered Cary, “Get me some ice and towels and get him a physical fever.”

Cary responded and immediately retreated.

The two remaining nurses joined Hector in doing so, lifting Bruce up and laying him flat, and retreated after him.

Lindsey rolled up her sleeves and waited for Cary to bring over the ice hungry towels and told them all to go to bed in peace, leaving her to look after Bruce.

After removing all of Bruce’s clothes, she put ice cubes in a clean cloth bag and pressed them under his armpits to reduce his fever.

Bruce’s fever was really bad, and his skin was a frightening red colour, with veins bulging out. No sooner had the ice been placed than his body temperature suddenly dropped to its lowest point and his body was cold.

Lindsey was scared out of her wits, even though she was aware that this was a necessary symptom during the healing process.

Master Roy had said that the medicine was rather vicious and that he would be completely cured after a torment of ice and fire.

It would also dispel the stagnant blood in his brain.

She had already used silver needles to drain him once before, but she couldn’t get it clean, the blood vessels in his brain were too thin.

She took the quilt and covered him up, but suddenly he grabbed her arm. “Who are you …”

“Bruce, you let go first.” Lindsey looked into Bruce’s eyes, which seemed to be clouded with grey, and had a bad feeling.

The force in Bruce’s hand gradually increased, Lindsey instinctively cried out in surprise, followed by all the sounds, all swallowed up by him.

The temperature in the room rose and Lindsey gasped, all her senses collapsing at his gentle yet wild murmurs, and she shuddered and moaned.

The sound of fabric cracking, fleeting, and passion ebbing and flowing like the waves of the sea.

He brought out raging waves as he came and went inside her, a wave that pounded the nerves of each other.

The tempo increased, Lindsey’s soft, deliberately suppressed grunts drifting in and out of his ears, causing his already delirious sanity to break down again.

The spiral of pleasure, climbing from peak to peak, gradually overwhelmed Lindsey’s body, and finally her whole body spasmed, biting into his shoulder, softening into a pool of water in his arms.

The sensations were so intense and tightly contracted that Bruce was at his wit’s end, unable to resist the urge to let go of all his strength, forgetting all caution, and hissing in complete release.

Bruce crouched over Lindsey, drops of sweat running down his temples and onto her snow-white breasts. It took a while before the throbbing in his body slowly subsided.

He lowered his head, gazed at her face in a blur of delirium and passed out in a faint …

The smell of hormones permeated the room, and Lindsey’s eyes opened listlessly for a long time before she found the strength to move him off of her with difficulty.

Her legs weakened as she got out of bed, she shuddered and put a hand on his forehead, feeling his temperature settle before she scrambled to clean up the mess.

In the bedroom wardrobe, there was only his robe and his regular clothes, nothing else.

Lindsey pulled out one of his shirts and put it on, lying back on the couch in front of the window, her thoughts in turmoil.

She hadn’t expected things to go this way, let alone for him to be so energetic in spite of his delirium.

As she was lost in thought, Bruce’s muffled murmurs came to her ears again.

Lindsey subconsciously looked back, only to find him already out of bed and moving freely on his legs.

“Bruce?” Lindsey called out to him softly and rose from the couch, looking at him with trepidation.

Bruce’s eyes, welling up with a strange, hot glow, took a few steps to her heels, ripped the shirt off her body with great force, wrenched her body over, and entered again from behind her without warning.

Lindsey was in excruciating pain, and the pain that had faded in her back swept through her once again.

After an unknown amount of time, she sank numbly to the couch in the midst of his furious pounding.

Bruce held her tightly, his heart suppressing his excitement, but his hoarse voice was cold as frost. “Who the hell are you!”

“Bruce, look at me.” Lindsey whimpered at the top of his movements, a wonderful sensation of pain mixed with pleasure that quickly overwhelmed her like a tsunami.

Bruce’s eyes were closed and his cold features were hauntingly wild in the dim light.

He held her tighter, as if he wanted to melt her into his blood and bones.

“Bruce, look at me, it’s Lindsey,” Lindsey spasmed again in the ultimate dizziness, opening her mouth to bite into his shoulder.

“Lindsey?” murmured Bruce, repeating her words, his handsome face contorting a little as he let loose with a low growl.

When all was quiet, Bruce buried his head in the crook of her neck and with a soft “Lindsey” he passed out again.

Lindsey was carried by his backward movement, lying exhausted on top of him, her legs trembling.

The sweat that had been woven into his tight, strong muscles fell in drops onto the couch, quickly wetting a large area.

After a long time, Lindsey wearily got off him and again brought wet wipes to clean each other’s bodies.

After making sure his body temperature would not repeat, Lindsey raised her hand to check the time, walked helplessly to her wardrobe, got another shirt and put it on, and fled to her yard in disarray under the cover of the night.

Bruce slept until dawn and got off the couch refreshed and in a trance for a moment.

His eyes moved to the bed and he felt bad when he saw the lady’s pyjamas torn into strips of cloth on the floor.

There seemed to be a slight scent of lovemaking in the air and Bruce sniffed hard, his eyes lingering on the white shirt on the carpet.

The remnants of his memory, which had been strewn through his mind at lightning speed, were so startled that he immediately grabbed a robe and pulled it on, turning his head and running out of the bedroom.