Valentine Teller hastily withdrew her hand, not daring to turn back, not daring to move. Her body began to tremble slightly from the tension.
What does he want to do?
She didn't know, couldn't guess, which made her even more terrified.
"No rush to leave."
Mark Reed's warm breath brought a strong smell of alcohol as it blew across her cheek, suppressing the impulse to hold her in his arms.
He raised his hand and took a lock of her hair into his palm, where an airy coolness lingered.
Her hair felt great, black and shiny. If he brought it to his nose, it had a captivating fragrance.
"You... what do you want?" Valentine asked timidly, afraid he'd do something inappropriate again, even more afraid his domineering kiss would suddenly fall, catching her off guard.
Feeling her body tremble, giving off an impression of wanting yet refusing, Mark's mouth curled into a wicked smile: "Are you afraid? Afraid of me..."
