99 Sweet Days with Dr. Dreamy

Episode2

Oliver glances at her quietly.

Miss Emma's bone structure is extremely beautiful, making her facial features look delicate and attractive. If you don't look closely, it's hard to notice the elegant light brown tear mole hidden under her eyes, adding a bit of unique charm to those soft and beautiful eyes.

Oliver struggles to suppress the emotions surging in his heart. The Emma before him is as heartwarming as she was when he first met her ten years ago. It is like trekking through the clouds on a clear late night, finally standing before her, and catching a glimpse of the long-awaited beautiful stars, colorful and dazzling.

He whispers, "Hello, Miss Emma." His voice is full of the maturity and steadiness that come with years of experience. The low and husky tone has an obvious graininess, full of magnetism.

Emma thinks that if Oliver sang in English, his unique voice would be so soulful that he wouldn't need to say much to make people fall in love with him.

However, Emma is too afraid to look Oliver in the eye. She fears being watched by those deep eyes, and even more, she fears that he would peek into her heart through her eyes.

Therefore, she tries to avoid eye contact with Oliver, afraid that she would fall into this affection. And at this moment, she meets his eyes.

Inexplicably, she wants to find out something.

He also looks at her, his expression faint, his brows lazy.

Those deep eyes are too good at observing people, teetering between warmth and indifference. She thinks of Darcy in "Pride and Prejudice," who, without speaking, just looks at you, making you feel like you are his most beloved lover.

"Château d'Yquem, which the winery just brought over, would you like to try it?" the waiter asks with a smile.

"Of course, Chateau d'Yquem is a top-quality sweet white wine, so why miss the opportunity to taste it?" Joyce says.

The waiter nods slightly, turns to the bar, and gracefully takes out the newly arrived bottle of Chateau d'Yquem. He carefully cuts open the golden foil and displays the bottle in front of him, as if displaying a rare treasure.

The deep amber color of this bottle shines through the clear glass, shimmering seductively. The label on the bottle is simple and elegant, as if whispering the story behind it.

The waiter pours the wine into the decanter, then pours out a small glass and hands it to them. Gently shaking the wine glass, Emma feels the dense aroma of wine in the air, as if in a sea of blooming flowers.

Emma takes a sip, and the sweet but not greasy, mellow and long taste instantly spreads out in her mouth, as if it is a wonderful feast for the palate. She closes her eyes and savor the wonderful sensation of this top sweet white wine, as if the whole world becomes peaceful and beautiful.

After enjoying a delicious dinner

Joyce picks up her bag, smiles sincerely, and turns to Oliver. "I have a party later; can you help get Emma home?"

Oliver smiles politely, doesn’t immediately agree, and asks Emma, "Miss Emma, would you like me to take you home?"

Emma nods and gets into the car. It’s just the two of them now.

Unintentionally, she glances and finds something --

His hands are so attractive.

Oliver's hands are a thousand times better than the model's. His fingers are long and slender, with large and prominent knuckles. The proportion between his fingers and knuckles is indescribably perfect, and his radius and wrist bones are taut, overly sexy. His skin is pale, with blue veins lurking beneath the skin, and the barbaric strength hidden in his blood might erupt at any moment.

Under the influence of alcohol, Emma is unconsciously attracted to Oliver.

Emma is absent-mindedly looking at the ridges in the darkness when the car suddenly stops. She is startled and turns to look at Oliver. She is just about to ask him why he stopped, but Oliver speaks first.

"Have you kissed anyone before?"

Emma's head suddenly feels like it’s exploding.

"Why, why are you asking this?"

Emma turns off the engine and looks at her.

"Would you like to try it with me?"

His quiet gaze is as heavy and dark as the light in the car at the moment, giving her that dangerous feeling again.

Her cells are agitated, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up one by one.

"I, I want to try."

Oliver's already deep voice becomes even deeper, with a hint of hoarseness.

"You can refuse."

Emma's fingertips clench suddenly, her lips move, but no sound comes out. She wants to refuse, she must refuse, but somehow she cannot speak...

Two seconds later, Oliver's lips curve up into a silent smile.

He grasps her arm, pulls her forward, and with his other hand cups her head, lowering his head to take a bite of her full lips, the place he had wanted to nibble on last night.

It is soft, softer than he had imagined...

The breath that splashes against her nostrils is scalding hot, burning her skin as if it were on fire.

Emma's breath catches in her throat, instinctively turning her head away, but as soon as she moves an inch, the large palm holding her head fixes her in place.

His tongue brushes past her tightly closed lips, causing a tickling sensation. Her lips part slightly without her realizing it.

Immediately, his tongue slips into her mouth, entwining with her tongue, which is panicking and unsure of where to hide.

"Umph-" She furrows her brows and raises her hand to push against his shoulder, resisting.

Is it a rejection?

She doesn’t know. Everything is just instinctive. Her mind is blank, her heart beating exceptionally fast, and a strange sensation of acidity rises from her lower abdomen, spreading all the way to her thighs...

Just when Emma feels that her heart will leap out of her throat, Oliver suddenly releases her lips and lifts his head.

"Is this your first time?"His voice is even more hoarse than before, like it has passed through a layer of sand.

Emma trembles, her lips glistening from his kisses, and nods slightly.

He chuckles softly, "Close your eyes."

Still slightly dazed, Emma obediently closes her eyes.

The world plunges into darkness, and she feels the large palm holding her head release its grip. Then, her waist tightens, and she is lifted up.

"Ah—"

She gasps, opening her eyes to see the world spinning. The next moment, she is sitting sideways on his legs.

"You're so light, like you're made of paper."

With one arm, he wraps around her slender waist, but not too tightly, enjoying the sensation of her wriggling in his embrace, which is quite alluring.

“What are you afraid of?”

“Me... me... just let me go first...”

“Don't worry, I won't do anything to you unless you nod.”

She looks at him, her lips slightly parted, not knowing what to say.

Oliver loves this expression on her face, like that of prey that has just fallen into a trap, shocked and disbelieving.

He places his large hand on her cheek and leans down to kiss her.

Unlike before, there is no probing or testing; instead, it is full of aggression.

His lips press heavily against hers, his tongue forcing its way between her teeth, dominating every inch of soft flesh in her mouth, vigorously sucking the moisture from her mouth, and even hooking her tongue into his own mouth, sucking and licking.

The burning sensation scorches Emma's brain, making her breathe with fear. Her abdomen feels tight and uncomfortable, as if all her strength has been drained away by him. Her limbs are weak and sore, except for her fingertips, which clutch tightly at the fabric of his shirt.

She collapses in his arms, opening her mouth wide to allow his lips and tongue to ravage her. When her tongue is gently licked, she emits a weak and helpless whimper.

The suppressed and fragile moans, the s****l organ that is only half-awake instantly swells and stiffens, propping up the fabric of her pants, pressing between her buttocks.

Emma only feels a little stumbling and subconsciously twists her hips to avoid it, but Oliver's hand around her waist suddenly tightens and presses her back hard.

"Hmm—"

Her buttocks are knocked painfully.

She whimpers and grabs the large hand that is stuck in her neck and makes her feel suffocated, feeling like it is easily pulled away, and she takes a deep breath urgently, and then the big hand is over her heaving chest.

Her limp body stiffens, and Emma snaps open her eyes.

"Hmm—don't—"

She turns her head away from his lips and tongue and pulls down with his big hand holding her left breast.

His lips brush against her cheek, press to her ear, and latch on to her earlobe.

It is a raspy sound, with vibrations and heat rushing into her cochlea.

Itchy!

Emma shrinks her shoulders and shivers, as if she has been electrified.

"You're so sensitive."

Emma tilts her head, trying to push him away, and her little hands go to pull his hand.

But she still can't move it, and the big hand that holds her left breast not only stays rooted but also kneads as if it has taken root.

"Don't ... that…"

His lips press to her ear again, spitting hot air and whispering.

"... I don't know…"

"Your heart is beating fast."