Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband

Chapter 1472: This Is a Marital Duty

Soon, the bright beams of two cars shone on the lawn outside; Morgan Ashworth had arrived home.

The maid quickly opened the villa door and respectfully exchanged his shoes, "Master, you’re back."

Morgan Ashworth, dressed in a black wool coat, carried the frost of the night on his shoulders. He looked up towards the upstairs, where a door was tightly closed.

"Where’s the madam? Has she gone to bed early?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes, master, the madam has gone to bed early."

"Alright." Morgan Ashworth climbed the stairs with long strides.

He pushed open the door to the room; a dim yellow light illuminated the interior, silent yet warm. In that moment, his heart, long adrift, found its peace; the world’s clamor faded away. This must be what coming home feels like.

A petite figure lay curled up on the bed, the air seemed filled with her sweet breath, which alone made him feel attached.

He couldn’t deny that he had wanted to return home for a long time.

The vibrant nightlife outside only made him feel tired and disgusted.

He also missed her.

Missed her a lot.

Morgan Ashworth quietly approached, seeing Willow Crawford lying on her side. Was she having a nightmare? Her delicate brows occasionally furrowed, with an aggrieved look like a soft, wounded fawn.

Morgan Ashworth reached out, his fingertips landing on her small cheeks.

Her warm, smooth skin slipped under his fingers, and he couldn’t help but gently caress it for a while.

Soon, his gaze fell on her belly. She was newly pregnant; her abdomen still flat, not yet showing.

He slowly placed his hand on it, knowing their child was growing inside.

This was truly a wondrous feeling beyond description.

Feeling a profound stir in his heart, Morgan Ashworth sat down and then leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

In her dreams, Willow Crawford seemed to sense something, murmuring, "Husband~"

She called him "husband" in her sleep.

Morgan Ashworth’s heart softened uncontrollably; his lips moved down, skimming over her eyes, nose, and then resting on her red lips.

He kissed her.

At first, he was very restrained, careful not to wake her, but somehow, he slowly lost control, feeling it wasn’t enough.

It truly wasn’t enough; he wanted to exert more strength.

His fingers tangled into her dark hair, vigorously savoring her sweetness.

Mmm.

Willow Crawford felt like she was having a nightmare, a heavy stone pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe.

Get off.

She tried to push away the annoying stone, but it was too heavy, and she couldn’t budge it.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes, jolting awake.

Upon waking, Morgan Ashworth’s handsome face was magnified in her vision. It wasn’t a stone; it was a man pressing on her, the man who hadn’t been home for a long time.

He had returned and was kissing her.

Willow Crawford instantly felt uneasy, struggling to push him away, "Mmm... don’t..."

Seeing she had awakened, Morgan Ashworth opened his eyes, supporting himself with his arm beside her, watching her, "Awake?"

"Why are you back?" She blushed under his dominance, "Weren’t you out enjoying entertainment?"

With grievances and anger in her heart, she blurted out all her feelings.

The sweet voice from the phone still pained her every time she thought of it.

She knew she was jealous.

Morgan Ashworth looked deeply at her, "Do you not want me to come back?"

She did.

Of course, she wanted him back.

But he had broken her heart too much.

Willow Crawford deliberately spoke the opposite, "It’s so fun outside, it already makes you reluctant to leave, so why come back?"

Morgan Ashworth gave a self-deprecating smile; she really didn’t want him back. What had he been expecting?

"Willow Crawford, I am your husband, and this is also my home. I come and go as I please; do you understand?"

"I don’t understand. Let me go; I want to sleep."

Seeing her eagerness to break free, Morgan Ashworth’s eyes darkened; he lowered his head and sealed her red lips again.

He didn’t want to hear her talk again; her words only aggravated him.

Willow Crawford didn’t want to be intimate at this moment because she smelled the alcohol on him, meaning he was drunk.

Was he seeking her out to act drunk?

She also caught a faint scent of women’s perfume on him; he must have been with other women.

"Mmm, let go of me!" Willow Crawford struggled hard.

Her struggle was like a fire, instantly igniting Morgan Ashworth’s desire to conquer. He missed her already, and now his urge grew stronger.

"Willow, this is marital duty, you understand?" he murmured hoarsely.

"I don’t understand! Morgan, I’m pregnant, have you forgotten the doctor’s advice? I can’t ’take care’ of you." Willow immediately brought up the child.

Morgan Ashworth found it amusing, "Now you care so much about the child, what were you doing earlier?"

Those words pierced deeply into Willow’s heart; she loved the child too, but she had no choice. He would never understand the torment she had endured during this time, the pain and suffering were hers alone.

Willow’s white-rimmed eyes reddened immediately.

Morgan Ashworth saw the layer of mist covering her beautiful eyes, wet like she was about to cry; his heart ached, both painful and itchy.

He lowered his head and kissed her again.

"Morgan!"

"Don’t move! If you continue to struggle, I can’t guarantee the child won’t get hurt," he threatened quietly.

Willow’s pupils contracted, truly afraid to resist further.

Morgan Ashworth pressed and kissed her, his skilled fingers finding her pajamas, unbuttoning them.

"Morgan!" she anxiously called his name.

"No calling, stop calling." Her calls nearly drew out his soul.

Willow anxiously pressed his large hand.

Morgan Ashworth knocked her small hand away, quickly growing impatient as he roughly tore away a few of her buttons, "I know, cooperate a little, I’ll be mindful."

Willow didn’t know what he meant; she was scared. Suddenly, he grasped her small hand, guiding it downwards.

What did he want?

Willow blushed deeply, withdrawing her hand immediately, "No! You have your own hands!"

Morgan Ashworth curled his thin lips, "I just like your hands, is that a problem?"

He was so righteous.

"No, I just won’t!"

"Willow, I’m your husband; if I want it, I get it, and you can’t resist." Morgan dictated with a domineering tone.

Willow bit her red lip, glaring at him fiercely.

Morgan Ashworth also sensed he was overstepping; he covered her eyes, "Close your eyes, don’t look at me."