After a moment of surprise, I snapped back to reality. My cheeks burned, and I hastily pushed Jing Yuan away, my mouth stammering, my ears flushed bright red.
"Ah… you… you mustn't do that!"
But he remained standing there, silent. His face was cold, without a trace of remorse. His eyes were like sharp needles, piercing straight into my mind. With each step he took, his tall figure cast a shadow over me. I recoiled, my back hitting the cold wall, trembling. My heart tightened, my breath quickened, and I dared not look him in the eye.
"Ah… you… don't come any closer…!" My voice trembled, weak as a plea, but not strong enough to make him stop.
He stopped, tilting his head slightly, a vague smile playing on his lips. It wasn't a warm smile, but rather a probing, teasing one, as if testing my reaction.
I mustered all my courage to threaten him:
"If… if you don't get out of the way, I… I will… I will teach you a lesson!"
Jing Yuan raised an eyebrow, his eyes flashing with amusement. He leaned closer, his breath warm but sharp against my ear, making my heart race:
"How does the young master intend to… teach me a lesson?" His voice was deep and drawn out, not at all gentle, only teasing and possessive.
I froze. My whole body stiffened. My mouth stammered, wanting to say something, but I couldn't. "I… I… I…"
He took another step, his hand grasping my wrist, gently stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. It seemed like a gentle gesture, but it felt like an electric shock running down my spine. I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip was tight, warm, and overwhelming, preventing me from escaping.
His gaze followed me, deep, cold, as if analyzing my every reaction, every breath, every heartbeat. I flinched, my heart pounding, my eyes unfocused, my body tensing. The air in the room was thick, only the sound of our breathing mingling, like the rhythm of a dangerous game in which I was the prey.
"Young master," his voice was low, cold, and indifferent, "you… like this… really encourages others to take advantage."
I jumped. A vague fear welled up in my chest. I looked up at him, my eyes brimming with tears, both scared and panicked, but he remained there, observing, showing no sign of softening.
I pursed my lips, trying to calm myself, but my voice still trembled:
"You… you make me… very uncomfortable… not at all…"
He frowned, a vague, sinister smile playing on his lips. His gaze remained cold and indifferent:
"Is that so… uncomfortable?"
I pressed against the wall, trying to calm myself. He wrapped his arms around my waist, but not to comfort me, but to hold me captive, as if I were an object to be controlled. The feeling of being trapped, unable to escape, filled me with fear, confusion, and… shame.
"Young master… saying that… will cause misunderstandings… and I… will have to 'teach' you a lesson." His voice was deep, cold, sharp, commanding, without a hint of genuine concern.
I felt the warmth of his body, but clearly, it wasn't concern. This was control, dominance, teasing little by little, prolonged… making me so tense I couldn't breathe.
I stood still, my heart pounding with tension, my body stiff as a statue. He stood there, his gaze cold and still, like a predator assessing its prey... I didn't know that in his eyes, I was still just an object he could exploit to the fullest in his revenge plan...