Isabelle Willow quickly held him down, "No." "What’s wrong?" Jude Crawford leaned over her, his pliant thin lips kissing her face, "I even ate your ox whip, didn’t we agree you wouldn’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow? I’ve prepared for it." Isabelle Willow’s face flushed red and white, she didn’t speak, just tightened her grip on her skirt, making it wrinkle. Whether as the young prince of the Crawford family ruling the City of Aethelgard, or as the creator of a powerful business empire now, he was used to being domineering, even more so in bed. Jude Crawford buried his head in her hair, inhaling her subtle fragrance, "Yara, even now you’re shy like a young girl, our Hayden is already so grown up, let me see the allure of a mature woman..." Isabelle Willow began to struggle, just then a gentle phone ringtone rang, he was calling. "Someone’s calling, pick it up." Jude Crawford refused, "You care about the phone at this time, trying to ruin my mood?" His phone was on the table, Isabelle Willow reached for it and directly pressed the answer button. "Hello, Mr. Crawford~" A sweet voice came from the other side, it was Jenny. Isabelle Willow froze, quickly looked back at him. Jude Crawford was amused by her glance, his large hand threaded through her long hair, holding her face for a kiss, "Jealous?" "Mr. Crawford, why aren’t you talking, what are you doing now, am I bothering you?" Jenny asked. Jenny hadn’t given up on Jude Crawford, she was constantly entangled with him. Jude Crawford didn’t pick up the phone, instead, he raised an eyebrow, his slender brow waves open, maturely alluring, "I just got half my wife’s clothes off and then you called, you tell me, is it a bother or not?" Isabelle Willow opened her mouth, biting hard on the corner of his lips. Jude Crawford winced in pain, furrowing his sharp brow, long fingers pinching her cheek, forcing her to release. The corner of his lip was bitten, blood oozing out, two drops also staining her red lips, enhancing her bewitching look. A woman of this age, still acting coy, if not seductive then what? He moved, going to untie the robe belt at his firm waist. Seeing him get serious, Isabelle Willow’s pupils shrank, her face blushed to the point of bleeding, "Jude Crawford, you dare!" He was still on the phone! She wanted to express her anger, but as she spoke, she realized her voice was soft and delicate. She suddenly felt ashamed, after all, Pip was already so grown up. Jude Crawford’s lips curved up, even his low voice had a hint of joy, undoing the robe belt, he leaned down again, kissing her red lips, "Thought of it?" "Didn’t think!" She pushed him. In her view was the man’s amplified handsome face, perfectly handsome, with the robe belt undone, revealing his firm chest, a 50-year-old man, truly in his prime, without an ounce of extra fat, muscled and rippling, a tight narrow waist, a perfect inverted triangle. "If you want, then want, no one’s laughing, after all, we’ve been apart for so many years, the first two times you fell asleep, you were... drenched..." In their youth, although there was always storm and strife, there was also happiness, relishing each other’s young bodies and beautiful times. At that time, it never felt enough, and suddenly one day, she disappeared. Counting the days they knew each other, his touching her was rare. Isabelle Willow also recalled before, when she had her period, pregnant with Hayden, he didn’t let her go. Past events like dreams. He was still saying these outrageous things. Isabelle Willow’s face was red like a cooked shrimp, in this regard, she was never his opponent, and couldn’t keep up with his pace. "Mr. Crawford," the call hadn’t ended, Jenny’s voice transmitted again, "Looking at Mrs. Crawford’s demeanor, she must be lacking in sensuality, can she satisfy you?" Saying this, Jenny confidently laughed, "If you come to my room now, I guarantee to serve you comfortably." Jenny’s coquettish voice came through clearly. Jude Crawford ignored the woman on the phone, he reached to pull at Isabelle Willow’s tightly held skirt, with one tug, Isabelle Willow loosened her grip. He paused, quickly realizing her unusual demeanor, "What’s wrong?" Isabelle Willow’s previously flushed face had turned white, she shook her head, "I’m fine." "Mr. Crawford~" Jenny still called. Jude Crawford picked up the phone, laughing coldly, "Don’t casually act wanton anymore, shout again and I’ll send you to the brothel." Jude Crawford threw out a sentence, directly hanging up the phone, throwing the phone on the table, then lifted Isabelle Willow up horizontally. With a few quick strides to the bed, he gently laid her down, "Speak up, what’s really wrong?" Listening to Jenny’s words earlier, Isabelle Willow suddenly thought of his affair with Zelda Willow, their fleeting romance, and having a son. Isabelle Willow remembered their son Zane Crawford’s cold, elegant demeanor, it pained her heart unbearably. "Jude Crawford, she’s right, I’m just someone who doesn’t understand sensuality, unable to satisfy you." Hearing this, Jude Crawford slowly curved his lips, his smile chilly, "Isabelle Willow, not understanding sensuality is a matter of a day or a few years, why bring it up now, if you don’t want to do it with me, just say so, don’t use satisfaction as an excuse." His gaze was sharp, like X-ray penetrating her. Isabelle Willow turned her eyes aside, there was still a fall-out between them. Jude Crawford’s features as sharp as carved knife were calm, but his whole demeanor was cold, "I’ll ask you one more time, tonight, will you or won’t you Mrs. Crawford?" He emphasized "Mrs. Crawford," reminding her of marital duties. Isabelle Willow lightly closed her eyes, didn’t answer. Jude Crawford stood up, took off the robe, changed into a black shirt and pants, then turned and left the room. With a loud "bang," the room door closed. It was so late, he went out. Isabelle Willow curled up in bed, actually, she didn’t want it this way either, but no woman can tolerate sand in love, his affair with Zelda Willow was a fact. And her daughter, deep guilt and dull pain continuously tormented her. Jude Crawford sat in a black leather chair, his long fingers held a cigarette, smoking. The office was filled with the smell of tobacco, a layer of cigarette butts fell in the ashtray. Check latest chapters at 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵⁂𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⁂𝓷𝓮𝓽 He had been smoking for a long time. "Sir," then Butler Thorne came over, handing him a small bag, "This is what you wanted, consuming this will set a raging fire in your body, unless a woman, otherwise there is no cure." Jude Crawford raised his eyes, amidst the swirling smoke, glanced at the small bag.