His Purpose
79. Hot Ice Cream [18+]

Five days passed since her return from Papua, Maria still wondered about the message she had accidentally read. Even if she did not dare to ask Gibran, Maria was afraid that the man was angry and considered him too meddling in personal matters.

However, this made Mary fret half to death. Who's hiding, who they're telling to go home, all of it wandering around Mary's brain without knowing where to look.

"Mrs, should I get you another snack?" Laura asked. His eyes glanced at the plate containing chocolate cookies that were still intact untouched, only the tea was now half left and began to cool. Maria had to sip it a few times.

They are currently in the garden of the Mansion, enjoying the afternoon befriending a number of books that Maria brought from the library.

The woman seems to be focused on reading, but Laura knows something is troubling Maria's mind. Several times he found the mistress pensive with unfocused eyes.

"Mistress?"

"Hm?" Maria flinched little looking at Laura.

Tuh, right.

Laura repeated her remark, "Would I get you another snack? I can have Koki make it."

Mary thought for a moment, then she shook her head, closed the book in her lap and grabbed the teacup, drank it gracefully like a queen and princesses in the palace.

"no need. It looks like I'm going in" Maria said as she got up from the chair, holding the book onto a small table beside her.

Laura came to clean up the book and immediately followed Maria who began to walk away from the park. Let him ask the other waiter to clean up Maria's tea and snacks.

"Laura, is there ice cream?"

"Ice cream?" asked Laura strangely.

It is not usual for Maria to ask for ice cream, considering they live in cold areas.

"Hem. I don't know why I want to eat fresh."

"Mrs want fruit?"

"No. I want ice cream. Please." Please."

Laura grimaced scratching her arm that was holding the book. "alright. I asked the kitchen. But usually they provide ice cream topping a dish. I hope there's stock."

After saying that Laura rushed to leave Maria. While Mary herself quickly entered the room and laid her body on the bed. He massaged the waist that feels sore, maybe because too long sitting in the garden his muscles become stiff. Looks like he has to go to the spa room to ask for a massage.

Maria took off the high heels on her feet and kicked her away from the carpet. He stretched out his arms, his eyes closed enjoying the softness of the mattress under his back.

"Jeez .. it's very convenient ..." sighed Maria.

He took off one by one the buttons of a thick dress that tightly wrapped his body, then rose briefly to remove the clothes. Feels claustrophobic. Maria wanted a loose shirt that could make her move freely.

As a result he picked up a tanktop and shorts on the wardrobe. Laura who had just entered until was shocked to see her appearance.

"Gosh, Mistress. Why are you dressed like that? Look for thicker clothes."

"This is more comfortable" replied Maria Cuek as she grabbed the ice cream in Laura's hand.

"But you will be sick. You're sensitive to cold air."

Maria clucked her body on the sofa. His fingers pluck the brown granules on the ice cream and then mengememutnya until melumer in the mouth. He was enjoying the sensation.

"My body temperature is a little heated up. Maybe it's because my menstrual schedule is coming soon."

Laura had no reason to argue, nor did she come out as soon as Maria told her to.

"How long have I not eaten ice cream until it tasted so good?"

Indeed, since living in the cold Gibran house in the mountains, Maria never again touched frozen food or fresh drinks.

The sound of the door opening diverted Mary's attention. Gibran came in still with a formal dress plus coat that covers his broad shoulders.

"Coko's home yet?"

"Hem." Gibran approached while taking off his coat, throwing it on the sofa next to Maria.

His forehead wrinkled strangely, "Why not wear clothes?"

Maria said, "Wear, really. It's." He pointed to the tanktop and the hotpants he was wearing.

Gibran. Her eyes fell on the ice cream glass in Maria's hand. The contours of the wrinkles on his forehead deepened. But as Gibran did not ask, he slid his butt next to Mary, clutching her shoulder as he sniffed her hair, neck and shoulders.

Maria giggled amusedly. Gibran's hands coiled around his stomach, rubbing there, rising upwards to a stop in his chest. Sure enough, Maria wasn't wearing a bra. Its hardened peak was printed clearly since earlier.

"You've never been a sport. Why can your breasts be this dense?" he whispered while squeezing a mound of that stuff.

Mary looked slowly, she looked at Gibran in surprise. "Where does Koko know I've never played sports?"

Silent. The two looked at me in silence. Gibran seemed faintly stunned, but he was so good at maintaining emotions on his face.

The corners of Gibran's lips twitched thinly. He kissed and sucked Mary's neck until it turned red. "I've never seen you sport here."

Maria nodded in understanding. "Ohh. I don't know, that one activity makes me lazy. I don't like anything exhausting."

Gibran raised his face to kiss Mary's jaw and chin. "But you like our hot activities in bed, to the point of exhaustion" he whispered hoarsely. Her hands didn't stop squeezing that sexy blob of Maria's.

"Emh .. sshh ..." Maria hissed as Gibran turned one of his fingers on a small bulge there.

"That's different again. Koko wants?" Mary showed me a scoop of ice cream in front of Gibran.

Gibran had opened his mouth and touched his face, but with ease Maria lowered the spoon and spilled the ice cream on the top of the chest, until the sweet snack melted into the tanktop and cause a wet mold that makes the circle of bulkhead shadow.

Gibran stared at it with a dark look. He glanced at Maria who threw a seductive gaze as if inviting her to do something.

Gibran smirked thinly, his face down licking the ice cream melts with a slow and sensual gesture. His tongue dropped as his hands exposed the tanktop rope until it poked perfectly in front of his eyes.

Maria smiled, she re-supplied the ice cream, this time putting it in pu-ting.

Gibran happily followed Mary's play. He played his tongue there. Pecking, sucking, until the melulum of the top of the ranum in his mouth.

"Nhh ..."

Maria squeezes Gibran's hair. I don't know how many times he fed the man ice cream on the chest. His body parts were already shiny wet as well sticky. And Gibran still sucks there like a suckling baby.

Maria gently rubbed Gibran's sturdy back wrapped in a suit, admiring his tall posture with muscles that often drove him crazy.

He looked at Gibran's hair, quietly asking in his heart, how far he knew the husband who he thought was still full of mystery.