It was no longer the gentle entangling of before, but a crazed conquest.
Qiao Jing's anger flared up immediately, and she bit down.
"Hiss—" The man stopped his movements, furrowed his misty eyebrows, hung his head slightly, and a few strands of hair fell across his forehead, adding a bit more obsessiveness and wickedness to his appearance.
The man's chest heaved unevenly, his lashes, longer than the woman's, hid the emotions in his eyes.
"Zhan Qipei, let go, or I won't be polite to you." Saving her did not mean that she had to let him take advantage of her just because he had saved her.
"Suit yourself," the man's voice was low and shaky, carrying a bit of a petulant tone.
"You—" It was the first time in Qiao Jing's life that someone had infuriated her to the point that she couldn't speak.
Two seconds later, the man lifted his face, his gaze falling once again on the girl's lips. At that moment, he had only one thought in his mind, which was to possess her at all costs.