Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1195: She Gently Caressed His Amputated Limb

Chapter 1195: Chapter 1195: She Gently Caressed His Amputated Limb

Mort Thorne wanted to curse, she was really going too far!

"So, you want me to go out without wearing underwear?" he retorted sarcastically.

"..."

Going out without underwear...

Dianna Hollis didn’t dare to picture it, too inappropriate, especially for a young girl!

She reached out directly and snatched the wet underwear from Mort Thorne’s palm, then tossed it into the trash can.

"Dianna!"

Mort Thorne aggressively gripped her slender wrist, trying to stop her, but it was too late as she had already thrown his underwear into the trash can.

Dammit, this woman!

Mort Thorne glared at her fiercely, almost ready to act out, she needed a lesson!

He let go of her delicate wrist, wanting to leave.

Hiss.

Dianna Hollis whimpered in pain.

Mort Thorne hesitated, quickly turned around, his deep dark eyes fixated on her, "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

He hadn’t used any force earlier.

Dianna Hollis frowned, looking very painful, accusingly, "Did you push me?"

"..."

He didn’t push!

They’d known each other for so long, he hadn’t even dared to touch a strand of her hair.

Yet now she seemed extremely aggrieved, as if he’d committed some unforgivable sin.

Mort Thorne knew he was getting older, he acknowledged everything Jodie Young had mentioned before, if he had had kids sooner, his daughter would probably be her age.

But a man his age knows how to care.

His gaze was fierce as he looked at her, even if he had a daughter, she wouldn’t be as spoiled and troublesome as she was.

"Don’t pretend, I didn’t push you!"

Dianna Hollis looked at the man’s stern, handsome features; he was the type that one could admire, with proper and spirited features, unmatched by other men.

Previously, he would bully women, but now when she bullied him, he sulked by himself, his masculinity having a hint of foolishness.

"My leg hurts, carry me," Dianna Hollis extended her hand to him.

Mort Thorne looked at his own leg, damn brat, he was disabled and she still wanted him to carry her.

Intent on mistreating him.

But his stern features softened a bit, he lowered his tall, strong frame and patted his back, "Get on."

The simple words oozed masculinity.

Dianna Hollis smirked and hopped onto his back with her slender legs.

Mort Thorne steadily caught her, his rough large hand supported her backside, he carried her forward in jumps, steadily and powerfully, infused with the strength of years.

Dianna Hollis wrapped her small hands around his neck, her nostrils suddenly reddened, she knew he was disabled, but in her heart, he wasn’t.

His tall frame, strong shoulders remained just as they were years ago.

Mort Thorne arrived by the bed and threw her onto the soft princess bed, he squinted his dark eyes and looked down at her with a smile that wasn’t quite a smile, "Was the ride comfortable?"

Dianna Hollis huffed, "Not letting you carry for free, here’s your underwear."

She pinched some black briefs between her fingers, on the bed there was a new white shirt and black trousers.

Looking at the underwear pinched in her fingers, Mort Thorne cursed deeply, "You playing with me, making me wash when there are new ones?"

Dianna Hollis lifted her leg and kicked his left leg, meaning to take the good with the bad.

Mort Thorne’s handsome brow softened, she was just stubborn, but soft-hearted.

No, not right, she was soft everywhere.

Mort Thorne’s tall frame didn’t move an inch, solid like a block of iron.

Dianna Hollis got up from the bed, "Put on your clothes and get ready for dinner!"

After saying that, Dianna Hollis left the room.

Mort Thorne put on his clothes, soon a maid brought over millet porridge, "Sir, the young miss wanted me to cook porridge for you, she cares about your health."

Mort Thorne glanced at it, it was fragrant rib millet porridge, along with several crisp and delicious side dishes, all made by her orders.

His heart was instantly soft and full.

...

Mort Thorne lying on the sofa wasn’t asleep, just resting with his eyes closed.

Not sure how much time passed, but there was a click and the room door opened.

A series of light footsteps came to his ear, then his vision darkened, someone stood by his sofa.

Mort Thorne slowly opened his eyes, Dianna Hollis had returned, standing next to the sofa, looking at him.

"Why aren’t you sleeping in bed?" Dianna Hollis asked.

"That’s your bed."

"Didn’t you sleep on my bed too?"

"..."

At this moment, Dianna Hollis reached out, touching his empty pant leg.

"What are you doing?" Mort Thorne grabbed her slender wrist, preventing her from touching.

"I want to see."

"See what?"

"Your amputation."

Mort Thorne pursed his lips, a trace of self-deprecation in his laziness, "What’s there to see? It might scare you."

So, he wore long pants?

He slept with his pants on, probably not wanting anyone to see.

"I’ve never seen it before, I’m curious, I just want to take a look." Dianna Hollis tried to break free of his hold.

But Mort Thorne refused.

At that moment, Dianna Hollis’s hand slipped onto his sturdy shoulder, suddenly pushing him down on the sofa.

Her firm waist and abdomen pressing down, she directly sat on top.

Now she was straddling his waist, him below, her above.

This ambiguous position set Mort Thorne’s eyes on fire, "Does your husband allow you to straddle a stranger like this?"

Dianna Hollis’s small hands went to undo his belt, "Are you a stranger? Three years ago, what haven’t we done?"

He wasn’t wearing that shirt, but bare-bodied at the top, still he wore long pants, with a belt fastened at the waist.

Mort Thorne grabbed her small hand tight, calling her name firmly, "Dianna, I know you hate me, but don’t tease me like this!"

She’s teased him many times already.

Dianna Hollis pushed away his large hand, her nimble fingers unfastened his belt, pulled down his zipper, then peeled off his pants, revealing his right leg’s amputation.

The amputation site reddened and swollen, like a once-perfect piece of craft shattered into brokenness.

He’s no longer perfect.

Dianna Hollis stretched out her small hand, her soft fingertips gently touched his amputated area.

Mort Thorne least wanted Dianna Hollis to see him this incomplete, yet now his imperfection was fully exposed to her eyes.

His body’s muscles hardened bit by bit, he wanted to get up, but halfway up, his tall, heavy body fell back into the sofa, all sensations concentrated on her soft small hand as it slowly explored over his amputation, tenderly as if handling a rare treasure.

Isn’t she afraid?

Isn’t she disdainful?

He was truly disabled now, yet why did she still treat him so gently?

His dark eyes gradually turned red, his prominent Adam’s apple moved up and down, feeling like she was claiming his life.

This feeling was more exhilarating than anything, he’d never experienced it before, her small hand invigorated every nerve, his firm waist and abdomen stirred, pounding through his limbs and bones.