Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 234-I’ll let you go when I get tired of you.

Laurence’s mother froze upon receiving the cheque. A smile appeared on her face, unable to fade as she looked at the woman in his arms. She reluctantly spoke, "Hey, Mr. Boston, what’s so special about her?"

"Hey, Mr. Boston, what’s so great about her? She’s not feminine at all. How can she compare to my Miya? What do you think of my Miya?"

"Scram!"

He raised an eyebrow, shot a cold look, and picked up the woman in his arms, striding out the door, leaving Laurence’s mother fuming behind him.

At the hotel, in the luxurious suite, he carried her in and gently placed her on the big bed. The tension from the drive had built up desire, and his body ached from holding it in. His lips fervently pressed against hers, kissing her passionately, losing all restraint.

Her gown, short and revealing, was removed swiftly. As her fair, slim body was exposed before him, he momentarily cleared his mind before leaning down again, reverently kissing every inch of her skin.

Even though her mind was fogged by the effects of the drug, and her body was already responding to it, he continued to cherish her. He caressed her, from her chest to her flat belly, down to the most intimate of areas.

No matter her state, he was determined to be the one to give her the most intense pleasure she had ever known.

Her body writhed beneath him, her moans a sign of her growing need. She couldn’t help herself, especially when he kissed the sensitive area on her chest, causing her to respond with a craving for more.

He gasped, shedding his shirt, easing into her with slow, deliberate movements, even though his own desire was almost unbearable. He knew she was special, and he believed he was meant to be her first.

Despite her being wet from the drug’s effects, she was tight, causing him to shudder, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He kissed her again, coaxing her gently, "Bonnie, relax... relax a little more..."

She trembled beneath him, her body responding as she struggled to open her eyes, but the wave of desire overtook her once again. Her face flushed with confusion, her lips, soft and inviting, were kissed as though he couldn’t resist. He couldn’t help but draw closer, overwhelmed by the need to be near her.

As he moved into her, she winced from the initial pain, her brows furrowed in discomfort. She reached out, her hand grasping his arm as a soft sound escaped her lips.

He held her gently, waiting for the pain to ease before he moved again, this time with more control. He kissed her tenderly, whispering words of reassurance, his emotions wrapped up in the moment. "Bonnie," he murmured, "Since fate brought you to me, I won’t let you go."

That night, he cherished her, unable to get enough of the connection they shared.

After the airport farewell to Cynthia and Albert, James drove back, his thoughts drifting to that first encounter. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his mind replaying the emotions and images of their time together.

After that day, he brought her back to Hong Kong. But before that, there was a moment when she had hesitated to marry him. That morning, after waking up, he had gazed at her sleeping form for a long while, his heart making a decision. He realized that he wanted to marry her, to keep her by his side forever, to protect her from life’s hardships and the judgment of others.

As the future successor of the Boston Group, he had always envisioned marrying someone from a prestigious family, like his father had. But after meeting her, everything changed. He felt an undeniable pull—he couldn’t imagine life without her.

Some might think he was being absurd. After all, wasn’t she just a woman he’d met once and spent a night with? Was it really worth committing to a lifetime of marriage? Given his circumstances, finding a woman more suited to him would have been effortless.

Yes, maybe she wasn’t the most stunning, nor the gentlest, and she even seemed to have some distaste for him. But he couldn’t help it. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her stubborn face, dressed in black. Her image seemed to seep into every part of him, flooding his thoughts and emotions.

Especially now, after he had completely claimed her, he felt even less willing to let go.

As a successful businessman, his personal rule had always been simple: get what you want, no matter the cost. And fate had given him the opportunity. So, she would stay by his side for the rest of her life, whether she liked it or not.

He still remembered the morning she woke up. After the initial panic and embarrassment, she lay there, staring at him for a long time before finally speaking in a soft voice:

"What does it take to be your woman? Is it just showing up when you need something?"

God, he’d been furious at her then. How could she say something so cold and distant? Of course, he didn’t lash out at her—he wasn’t the type to solve problems with anger. Instead, he gave a calm, measured smile and shook his head slightly.

She was lying in bed, pulling the covers up to her neck, shielding herself. He lay beside her, propping himself up on one elbow. She seemed uncomfortable under his gaze, not knowing where to look—everywhere her eyes went, she met his chest. Eventually, she closed her eyes.

"What... what should I do?" she asked hesitantly.

A spark of cleverness flashed in his eyes. He leaned closer, his voice low and teasing, as he whispered near her ear:

"I want you... to marry me. Only then will you truly be mine."

To his surprise, after a brief moment of hesitation, she burst into laughter. It was the first time he had seen her smile, and the simple expression on her face seemed to transform her—what had been a plain, quiet face now became bright and lively. He found himself thinking that she should smile more often.

Despite the beauty of her smile, his mood soured. Wasn’t this supposed to be a proposal? Was she really going to respond like this? He couldn’t hide his displeasure and asked coldly,

"Is that really so funny?"

As soon as she noticed his darkening expression, she quickly stopped laughing, adopting a more serious tone.

"Actually, yes, it’s pretty funny. But I’m sorry, I can’t accept your proposal. I can be your lover, but marriage? That’s absurd!"

Her words made it sound as though his request was trivial. Could he really be that ridiculous? His frustration mounted, but instead of reacting harshly, he gently stroked her delicate cheek, his voice calm yet firm.

"Then, what if I told you that Carl Laurence is currently being hunted and has nowhere to run? Would you still think my request is absurd?"

Her smile immediately faltered, and he added, "I can save Carl Laurence."

Her quick mind caught onto his meaning. A flash of emotions—pain, disbelief, and reluctance—flashed across her eyes. After a moment of silence, she finally bit her lip and agreed.

"Fine, I’ll agree. But... when can you let me go?"

It seemed she thought he was just playing games with her. Did she really think he wasn’t dependable enough to rely on for a lifetime? Her words only fueled his frustration, but instead of being angry, he responded, almost casually,

"I’ll let you go when I get tired of you."