His voice sounded in the air like silky tendrils, very gentle, but also very cold. In its elegance hid a wisp of frosty chill.
Chen Rong was too tense to move.
Wang Hong slowly turned to face her, his hands cupping her cheeks. His inky eyes were slightly squinted, but he did not smile. “Have I been so consistently magnanimous that you can just use me when you want to use me and then leave me when you want to leave me?”
Chen Rong finally recovered. Her rosy lips trembled as she hastily tried to clarify: “No, that’s not true.”
Wang Hong’s hands suddenly stilled on her cheeks. He kept them firmly there and lowered his head to catch her lips.
Their lips met.
With her eyes widened, Chen Rong dazedly let him inhale her lips and intrude inside to probe deeper into the depths of her mouth.