His Majesty’s Devious Sins - Chapter 218

Lydia’s day was plagued with progress reports and discussion about the advancement of the newly developed drug. The company had finally begun human trials today, but it’d be difficult to dare to test on pregnant women.

Lydia placed a tired hand on her head and leaned back in her chair.

“How unfortunate,” she said.

Not many people signed up for a human trial, which meant she’d need to begin hiring more people for the severely lacking marketing department. They used to be a weaponry company only, but she wanted to branch out.

“Would you like me to order for dinner, Chairwoman?” William inquired, checking his tablet. They had finished all of the meetings for today, and there was nothing else on her schedule.

But for the past three days, Lydia had been staying in her office the entire night, doing all of her work. William didn’t dare to complain, since she was doing her job, but it must’ve been tiring for her. He also knew she was only doing that because work was a distraction from the Queen’s coma.

“There’s the place you really enjoyed last time, where the take out experience was as amazing as—”

“Unfortunately not,” Lydia said. “Using you as an excuse didn’t work, so now, I have to prepare for a date.”

William raised his brows in surprise. The feisty Chairwoman was able to secure a date?! With who? Only one person came to mind. Politician Weston Fitzcharles. Truly, the combination was astounding. William thought a powerful and frightening man like Weston would want someone demure and innocent. The Chairwoman was far from that.

– – – – –

Lydia tried her hardest to think of where they could possibly be going, but couldn’t think of anything. In the end, she settled for something chic yet comfortable.

Lydia opted for dark jeans combined with a black top that slightly poofed at her wrist, minimal gold jewelry, a leather belt, and her most comfortable pair of boots. By the time she finished her make up, she heard her doorbell ring.

“What the hell, that creep,” Lydia grumbled under her breath, walking towards the door and checking the monitor. Sure enough, she saw Weston standing outside of the door.

Lydia pressed one of the buttons to talk. “How did you get in here?” Lydia asked, wondering what kind of tactic it’d take to enter here.

This was one of the most secure apartment complexes in the capital. The security here didn’t allow guests unless they were physically accompanied by the resident. Guests weren’t allowed to wander the hallways. Even if a prominent guest were to walk in here, no one would let him in.

“Well,” Weston began. “I started by getting out of my car and walking through the lobby, then—”

“You know what I meant,” Lydia scoffed.

Weston smiled. Even through the monitor he could hear her attitude and sass. “I bought a condo here.”

What?

Lydia gawked at the screen. Unable to contain her curiosity, she walked towards the door and unlocked it. There were three locks in total and she was always paranoid, so used all three.

“What do you mean you bought a condo here?” Lydia demanded, trying her best to not drool at the sight of him in normal clothes.

In the castle, Weston was always in some sort of suit. Today, he was dressed more casual in black jeans and a navy polo shirt that hugged his body, emphasizing his great frame.

“There was a sale recently,” Weston slowly said, like he was talking to a toddler. Seeing her astonishment and irritation, he might as well have been. His gaze swept over her clothes, smiling when he realized they were matching.

“The condos here are in the millions—”

“I have millions.”

Lydia opened and closed her mouth. “How did you even know I lived here?”

“I have my connections.”

Lydia’s mouth felt dry. “That’s creepy.”

Weston raised a brow. “I call it romantic.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes at his cheekiness. She had dreams about making Weston a househusband that’d rely solely on her income. Now, that plan had flown out the window upon realizing he had his own money. Of course, how could she not have predicted that sooner?

“Are you going to let me in?” Weston said, whilst pushing his way inside of her condo.

His gaze swept across her living room. To his surprise, there were things everywhere. Papers were slewn on the coffee table, the couch pillows were scattered, and it looked like she hadn’t used the kitchen the entire time she moved in here.

“This looks like—”

“A place that has been properly lived in,” Lydia retorted, already knowing what he was going to say.

“—a tornado swept through here,” Weston finished, staring at her with disapproval. He was already itching to organize everything.

Lydia frowned at his judgement. She began to push him out of the door. “I didn’t even say you can come in, and now you’re judging my living room?”

“Of course I’m going to judge it if one day I’m going to f.u.c.k you on every surface here.”

Lydia paused. What did he say?

Instantly, she looked at him, her mouth opening and closing, at a loss for words. “Who said I’m going to let you f.u.c.k me?”

“Oh, would you have preferred for me to say make love instead?”

“That’s not what I’m asking!” Lydia retorted, shoving at his c.h.e.s.t to get out of her house. But he simply grabbed her wrists, yanking her forward, until their c.h.e.s.ts were pressed against each other. She struggled and he pinned her against her own door, slamming it shut.

“What are you doing?” Lydia breathed out. He pressed his body against hers, until she felt the hardness of his abdomen pressing into her soft one, and his knees were in between her t.h.i.g.hs.

“Finding another surface to f.u.c.k you on,” Weston mumured, bending his head to capture her lips in a rough, punishing kiss. He’d been meaning to kiss her this hard when he saw her in that skin-tight top that plunged down. He nibbled at her bottom lip before thrusting his tongue into her mouth and capturing hers, s.u.c.k.i.n.g it softly.

Lydia’s hand slipped into his hair, tugging it softly as he kissed her roughly. He spared no mercy in dominating her. She touched his jawline, her thumb brushing upon the chiseled skin.

Weston pulled back, his breath fanning her bruised mouth. “The date can wait,” he muttered, his hand sliding down her body and underneath her top, until he felt her skin. She was warm and it was a strange feeling on his icy fingertips.

“I don’t do one night stands,” Lydia responded, pushing his hand away. “If you want me, you better date me.”

Weston scoffed. Was that what the women were saying these days? He took her as a modern woman, one that slept around as she pleased, and dated whoever she wished.

“Is that how it is?” he remarked.

“Yes.”

“Then you better keep that promise,” he muttered.

Lydia raised a brow. Weston grabbed her hand and began pulling her out the door. She knew he was not one for asking permission and she wasn’t the kind to like being asked. She was confused when he took a final look at the living room.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Just remembering the spots I can bend you over,” he stated.

Lydia laughed, but his face told her he was serious. Her laughter died down and she swallowed.

Weston caught her nervousness and chuckled. He grabbed her chin and pulled her forward, brushing his mouth upon hers. “Don’t worry, if you properly behave, I won’t spank you as hard.”