Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1172: Want a Hug?

"What?"

Mort Thorne lowered his handsome eyelids and took a look—there was a condom in her hand. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

His dark eyes deepened, and he pinched her collagen-filled small face with his large hand, "Don’t want to get pregnant?"

With a "snap," Dianna Hollis slapped his big hand away, "I’m only 21. I’m still a kid myself. How could I get pregnant?"

Mort Thorne showed no expression, his lips slowly curled up, "So when do you plan on getting pregnant?"

She might not have the chance to get pregnant anymore.

"I..." Dianna lifted her little head to look at the man on her, "Mort, do you want children?"

The last time he saw her taking medication in Miaojiang, his expression wasn’t right.

Mort Thorne looked at her, his gaze was deep, "If I say I want children, will you give birth for me?"

Dianna’s heart skipped a beat, what was he saying?

Did he want her to have his child?

But, it’s no use, she knows her own body.

Dianna huffed and pretended to be playfully difficult, "I won’t have a baby for you unless... you marry me first!"

That’s how it should be; she’s not his wife yet, and even if pregnant, it wouldn’t be appropriate.

Actually, Mort Thorne also thought so in his heart, marriage first then pregnancy, but now he is on a mission and can’t give her any promise.

At this moment, a melodious ringtone sounded, Serena Sterling was calling.

Serena was calling—maybe urging her to return to the hospital.

Dianna quickly snapped to her senses, she’d been out of the hospital for a long time, and Serena would not accept it; she needed to return to the hospital.

She lifted her little head to look at the man on her, her voice soft, "Mort, I have to go back now."

Mort Thorne pressed down on her, refusing to let her move, his deep dark eyes narrowed, carrying a sharp, heated glow, "Dianna, are you playing with me, huh? if you want to leave, give me the condom back, what — so I can blow bubbles myself?"

"I really have to go now. It’s very late!"

"No leaving." Mort Thorne uttered four words, strong and overbearing, then lowered his head and kissed her.

Dianna’s little hand still clutched the ringing phone. She pushed Mort Thorne away forcefully and crawled to the side of the bed.

She truly needed to go.

There was another treatment tonight and a lot of medication to take.

With her pale fingers, she pressed the answer button, Dianna answered the call, "Hello, Serena..."

"Dianna, when are you coming back? I’ll send a car to pick you up, okay?" Serena Sterling’s gentle voice transmitted over.

"Serena, I..."

Dianna’s voice stopped abruptly because her delicate ankle was suddenly grabbed by the man’s rough palm, effortlessly pulling her back, pressing her under him, and the phone in her hand was taken away. "Dianna, what happened? Hello, Dianna..." Serena’s voice continued to transmit.

Mort Thorne braced himself on one hand beside her, not putting his full weight on her, with the other hand holding the phone, he lowered his head and kissed the girl’s fragrant soft hair, speaking softly to the other end of the line, "Dianna is with me, she won’t be coming back tonight."

After saying that, he directly hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed.

...

Mort Thorne carried Dianna out from the bathroom. Dianna lay powerless in the soft blankets, her long, raven hair scattered down, accentuating her rosy red lips and white teeth.

Mort Thorne’s black silk pajamas were loosely tied, clearly just put on, his sleepwear half-soaked from giving the girl a bath, the thin fabric clinging to his muscular body piece by piece.

He bent his tall body down to rub the girl’s hair with a large hand, full of affection, loving her current tender and charming appearance, the woman blooming for him, seductive yet intertwined with a youthful purity so mesmerizing that it makes it hard to look away.

He was delighted in his heart, his handsome brows and eyes overflowing with pleasure, akin to a young boy experiencing his first indulgence, unable to get enough of his own woman.

"Does it hurt?" he asked hoarsely.

Dianna didn’t have any strength left, feeling as though she was walking on clouds, plus her body was sore and aching, she was too lazy to move.

Her butterfly-like long eyelashes fluttered, she gazed at the man with watery eyes, "Yes, it hurts."

"It’ll get better after a few more times." He spoke nonsensically with a straight face.

"..." Dianna raised her small pink fist to hit him.

Mort Thorne captured her tiny pink fist and placed it at his chest, watching her with a pampering smile.

The room was filled with pink bubbles, like sugar sprinkled around, sweet to the heart.

At this moment, a knock on the door resounded, and a servant’s voice came from outside, "Sir, Miss Hollis, dinner is ready."

Mort Thorne finally let the girl go, "I will take a quick shower, wait for me and we will eat together."

"Mm."

Mort Thorne walked into the bathroom.

...

Just as the bathroom door closed, the room door opened, two maids brought in a sumptuous dinner.

Dianna glanced up, one of the maids was the big-chested girl.

The big-chested girl came in and immediately lifted her head, cautiously peeking around without seeing Mort Thorne, lowering her head again.

The other maid didn’t dare lift her head, respectfully doing her job, but the big-chested girl had an unrestrained look on her face, a hint of coldness emanating from Dianna’s icy gaze, she sneered.

This big-chested girl was annoying, Dianna contemplated—if she wanted this girl out, it would just take a word.

But she also felt there was no point; after she died, Mort Thorne would still have women, many women.

Dianna stared blankly at the crystal chandelier overhead.

At that moment, a "click" sounded, the bathroom door opened, Mort Thorne walked out wearing a white bathrobe, enveloped in steam.

"Sir, dinner is ready," the big-chested girl’s eyes lit up upon seeing Mort Thorne, her voice coquettish and ingratiating.

Mort Thorne didn’t pay any attention to the big-chested girl, nor did he glance in her direction, his focus was solely on the fragile figure on the bed, striding over while humming lightly, "You all can leave now."

"Yes." The two maids stepped back and left.

Mort Thorne came to the bedside, extended a big hand to lift the blankets, "Come here, let’s eat dinner."

"Okay," Dianna sat up, her jade-like little feet stepping onto the soft carpet, "Put on my shoes for me."

She was asking him to put on her shoes.

This brat!

Mort Thorne knelt down on one knee and placed the pink slippers onto her small feet, "What else to wear, do you want pants on?"

His rough fingertip slid up her slender, fair leg.

Dianna quickly pressed down on his big hand, eyebrows arched in a charming plea, "No, spare me."

Mort Thorne then straightened up, lifting his strong arms toward the girl, "Want a hug?"

The dining table was just a couple of steps away.

Dianna looked up at him, "Don’t want a hug, want a piggyback."