Hoarse, like a vintage wine, making people somewhat intoxicated.
Summer Ford did not reply, her head lightly hanging, just tugging at the clothes on his body.
It seemed she was having some trouble undoing them, probably because the alcohol blurred her vision. She fumbled at his shirt buttons a few times but failed to unbutton them, eventually resorting to just pulling.
"Baby, in a hurry?" His voice was still full of teasing.
When his thin lips slightly curved, it was as enchanting as the manjusaka flowers blooming under the nocturne.
"Then forget it." Summer Ford's hand loosened its grip on his shirt collar, turned her body, pulled over the quilt, and wanted to continue sleeping, but her wrist was unexpectedly pressed down by Ethan Laurent.
His grip was strong, as if he wanted to break her arm.
