And yet, this man is such a bastard, merely teasing her without giving her the satisfaction she craves.
Song Qiao's hand clutched the man's shoulder, and with a slight force, she immediately left a red mark on his skin. Gasping for breath, she provocatively said, "Lu Jingchen, are you not up for it?"
The last thing a man wants to hear is his woman questioning his ability, which is akin to plucking the whiskers from a tiger's face.
True to form, the next second saw Lu Jingchen's face darken, and as he looked down at the flush that had begun to spread across her small face, he let out a low chuckle and leaned close to her ear. With a hint of ambiguity, he took her earlobe in his mouth and whispered in a husky voice that felt like a murmur, "Whether I'm up for it or not, why don't we find out soon?"
No sooner had he finished speaking, his body pressed down, and he moved in the most primal manner, not wanting to continue teasing her any longer.
