Chapter 1257

Chapter 1257Chapter 1257
Meanwhile, because there was a heater in the tent, the air was warm and cozy, and Stella had settled in
snugly.
However, when she saw Weston come in again, bringing with him a gust of frosty air, she frowned,
annoyance written all over her face. “Stop. Stay there. Don’t come any closer.”
Weston stopped in his tracks. He remained unfazed by her bossy haughtiness, though he was bothered
by how she was looking at him as if he disgusted her.
And thus, he walked up to her and held her chin up with his hand. Before she had the time to react, he
swiftly
swooped down and kissed her lips.
“Mmm…” Stella’s eyes widened in shock. The script slipped through her fingers, and she hit Weston hard
on his shoulders to make him stop.
But her resistance did not deter Weston in the slightest bit. Far from being hurt, it merely felt like a tickle.
He clasped her hands together and, without any hesitation, dove right in and gave her a deeper kiss.
Stella kept on resisting, albeit helplessly, as she did not manage to make him budge at all.
Weston only let go of her when he was done kissing her. He leaned down on her forehead, still panting a
little, and whispered in her ear, “You’ve been bossing me for long enough now, it’s only fair that you
reward me a little, right…?”
“You can leave whenever you like, if you can’t bear it,” she pushed him away. “I’m not forcing you to be
here.” “Just think of it as me forcing you,” he replied.
As he parted his lips, his warm breath turned into white clouds of fog, giving the air in the tent an
indescribably sensuous atmosphere.
But he only kissed her that one time and then released her.
Stella took a deep breath. Her eyes were cold and crystalline. She picked up the script on the floor, but
she was no longer in the mood to read it.
Undeterred, Weston presented the dishes he brought with him to her, telling her, “The food up here
tastes a little different. I asked the kitchen to cook up a variety for you, so why don’t you try and see if
you like any?”
“I’m not eating any of that,” she refused, not even looking at the dishes.
Weston paused, then asked her, “Which one do you dislike?”
“All of them,” she replied while looking straight into his eyes, obviously taunting him.
“What do you want to eat then?” he asked patiently. “I’ll go get it for you.”
“I told you–I want something icy.”
‘Anything but that,” he said, reaching out his hand to pinch her nose. He chuckled and asked her, “Do
you really want something icy?”
“Yes! How many times do I have to tell you? Stop asking me the same question! You’re clearly trying to
annoy me.”
“Okay, then.” Weston turned and left the tent without saying another word.
When he returned, he really did bring her some ice cubes, but he also brought along a bottle of fine red
wine. Calmly, he walked up to her and set a tall glass in front of her.
Stella took a step back and stared at him, wondering what he was going to do.
Weston opened the bottle and filled a glass with wine before dropping some ice cubes into it.
“Didn’t you say you wanted something icy?” he asked.
“I said I wanted to eat something icy,” she argued. “I never said I wanted to drink wine.”
“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to,” he said, then he suddenly took a sip of the wine. An ice
cube slid into his mouth, and he swiftly held Stella’s chin in place before kissing her lips again.
An icy cold sensation passed between their lips. Stella was shocked by the coldness of the ice and
wanted to push him away, only for him to hold her tightly in place and kiss her even more deeply.
This kiss felt different from the previous one.
She kept trying to push him away and resist him, but the ice started to mix with her saliva, merging and
mingling together in their stickiness until it started to melt little by little.
The alcohol filled their mouths. Stella was feeling a little light–headed now.
Slowly, he managed to dissolve the strength of her resistance.