Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

Chapter 278: Chapter Two Hundred And Seventy Seven

Damon did not turn around. He was silent. He looked down at Camilla’s pale, sweating face. He did not have time for Isabel’s words. He knew Isabel was a jealous, toxic woman. Her words were like cheap poison trying to drive a wedge between them, and he refused to drink it. He only cared about getting his wife to a safe place.

Isabel waited for him to beg for the information. When he did not speak, she continued her desperate bargaining.

"If you let me go," Isabel offered, her smile widening. "I will tell you everything. I will tell you her secret."

Damon did not even look back over his shoulder. He kept his eyes fixed entirely on Camilla. He tightened his hold on her body.

Damon spoke. His deep voice was flat, cold, and entirely uninterested in Isabel’s words.

"Kade," Damon ordered smoothly. "Carry on."

Kade, who was standing nearby, nodded his head firmly. "Yes, General. She will be taken to the city guards immediately."

Isabel’s smile faltered. It dropped off her face in an instant. Her eyes widened in shock. She could not believe the General was ignoring a secret about his own wife.

Damon turned his body and began to walk toward the broken front doors of the warehouse. He carried Camilla effortlessly.

Isabel realized she had lost. Her last card had failed. She scrambled on the dirty floor, screaming at his retreating back.

"You will regret this, Damon!" Isabel shrieked loudly, her voice echoing wildly in the empty building. Tears of anger poured down her cheeks. "Do you think General Howe will just take your father’s land like that? I promise you! You will regret choosing her over me!"

Damon ignored her screams. He walked out of the warehouse and stepped into the cool evening air of the lower city.

He walked quickly to where Camilla’s carriage was waiting on the street. Damon opened the opened the carriage door and carefully leaned his body into the carriage. He gently placed Camilla down onto the velvet seat. He intended to put her down, step back out, and drive the carriage himself so they could return to the mansion as fast as possible.

But as Damon tried to pull his arms away from her body, the sundew powder in Camilla’s system took control of her mind. Her fever was incredibly high, and her skin felt like it was on fire.

Before Damon could stand up and leave the carriage, Camilla moved. She acted solely on raw desire.

Camilla reached her hands up. She wrapped her arms tightly around Damon’s neck. She pulled his upper body down toward her with surprising force.

"Damon," Camilla whispered. Her voice was not sharp or sarcastic. It was soft, slurred, and deeply seductive. It sounded sweet.

Damon froze. His face was just inches away from hers. He could feel the intense heat radiating from her skin. He could smell her sweet scent mixed with the feverish sweat.

Damon placed his hands gently on her wrists, trying to pry her fingers away from his neck.

"I’m here," Damon replied softly, trying to sound calm and comforting. "I’m here, Camilla. Stay here for a while. I need to drive us back to the house. You need a doctor."

But Camilla refused to let him go. The drug made her needy and affectionate. She did not want him to leave her side for even a single second.

She shook her head side to side, her red curls rubbing against the velvet cushions.

"No," Camilla whined softly. She pulled herself up slightly, pressing her hot, soft chest against the hard muscles of his broad chest.

She tilted her head. She pressed her warm, parted lips against his jaw. She kissed his cheek with a wet, lingering kiss. Then, she slowly moved her face down. She pressed her lips against the sensitive skin of his neck.

She kissed his neck. She bit him then sucked very gently on his warm skin, her breath hot and panting.

Damon stopped breathing for some seconds.

A massive, violent shock of electricity shot straight down his spine. His entire body went rigidly stiff. His eyes widened in the shadows of the carriage.

Having Camilla rub her body against his chest and kissing his neck with such desperate, hungry passion was a torture to his self-control. The heat in his lower body flared instantly. A prominent budge was visible in his trousers. He wanted to step in, close the carriage door, pull her into his lap, and surrender completely to her kisses.

"I don’t want to," Camilla whispered against his neck. Her voice was a breathy, slurred plea.

She moved her hands, her fingers tangling deeply into his dark hair, pulling him closer. "Stay with me. Don’t go. Please."

She shifted her legs on the velvet seat, tangling them around his hip. She was acting shameless, uninhibited, and seductive. The sundew powder had turned her into a desperate needy woman who only wanted his touch.

Damon closed his eyes tightly. He gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

He knew this was not real. He knew she was heavily drugged. He knew if he took advantage of her right now, he would be a monster and she would hate him for it. He respected her too much to touch her when her mind was clouded by a drug.

"She is really strong, no doubt," Damon thought to himself, amazed by the firm grip she had on his neck despite her high fever.

Damon forced himself to be the responsible person. He took a very deep, shaky breath and reached up with his large hands. He firmly grabbed her wrists. He had to use a significant amount of his own strength to slowly, gently pry her small, stubborn fingers away from his hair and his neck.

"Camilla, let go," Damon ordered softly, his voice trembling slightly with suppressed desire. "I have to get you home."

He managed to pull her hands off his body. He quickly pushed her gently back against the velvet cushions. Before she could reach for him again, he stepped backward and completely out of the carriage.

He slammed the door shut.

To make sure she did not accidentally open the door and fall out onto the street in her drugged state, Damon reached out and turned the exterior metal latch, locking the door securely from the outside.

Damon did not waste any more time. He climbed up onto the high driver’s box, grabbed the thick leather reins in his gloved hands and cracked the whip fiercely over the horses’ backs.

The horses neighed loudly and took off at a rapid sprint.

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