"This is not your belonging, what gives you the right to handle it?" Tang Zhiluo was pinned to the ground by him, refusing to submit.
Mo Xun, angered, held both her hands in his large palms, pressing them beside her forehead.
Now, the two were in an ambiguous position.
Mo Xun on top.
Tang Zhiluo below, her hands still pressed by him beside her forehead.
Tang Zhiluo looked up at the menacing man above her, not knowing what to do; she turned her head, her chest heaving violently.
Her neck was a stretch of pristine white.
And he, only draped in a white bath towel.
Mo Xun gazed down at her, feeling that this woman was guarding against him, reconciling with an old lover and resisting him?
The corners of Mo Xun's eyes filled with coldness, he clutched her legs and pinned her down.
Tang Zhiluo was wearing a skirt today.
Only underpants beneath.
And he had on just a bath towel.
The closeness of their bodies like this was very dangerous—and her period wasn't over yet!