Claire Shaw had always been a calm and conventional woman.
Since the day she t Ethan Blackwood, everything had changed.
Her reason turned to foam the mont Ethan spoke up to defend her.
From childhood, her father resented her birth, her mother wanted to control her life, constantly telling her that marrying a rich man was the only way out, while Owen Crawford instilled in her the idea that pretty girls relied on n.
No one would care about her feelings, whether she would ache when hurt.
They only cared how long her looks could maintain their beauty.
On that dark and dirty muddy path, she held a broken umbrella and walked alone for a long ti.
For the first ti, when soone threw mud at her, soone stood out and shielded her from all the attacks.
Claire was joyful and excited, this complex emotion was like a seed thrown onto the softest part of her heart, sprouting a tender green shoot on a gentle rainy day.
At the end of the magnificent corridor, the light was dim, and Claire kissed the well-dressed man aggressively and dominantly.
Clearly taller than her, sturdy and long-legged, yet willing to submit to her.
If it weren’t for the elevator entrance crowded with people, Claire would have torn open the man’s shirt, exploring under his hem, and pressed close to him.
It’s often said won are emotional creatures, and this was evident in Claire.
At this mont, she felt a strong desire for Ethan, even her eyes were tinged with a hint of spring warmth.
After the kiss, Claire stepped back, seeing her lipstick stained on his thin lips.
Her slender fingertips subtly and tenderly wiped clean the color from his lips.
"Sorry, I couldn’t help myself just now."
Ethan gazed at her autumn-water-like eyes, having rolled in bed with her many tis.
With a slight lift of her butt, he could guess her preferred position.
Knowing what she was thinking now, the man’s lips curled slightly.
Lust is inherently inseparable, even if she only feels desire for him now, at least he has claid a place in her heart in this way.
This emotion in her heart is like a vine, once it takes root, it will grow wildly.
He patiently waits for this vine nad love to spread to every corner of her heart, until she finds herself tightly entwined, unable to break free.
Spring rain silently moistens, Ethan knows this truth best.
He gazed at her calmly, eyes thick like unlted ink, making it hard for Claire to look away.
"No need to apologize, everyone is a creature driven by emotion, besides robots, no one is an exception. In fact, your initiative to kiss makes very happy."
That calm voice, yet with the unique steady texture of a narrative, made her involuntarily captivated.
His poise, his protective nature, his domineering attitude deeply attracted Claire.
Claire stared into his eyes, her heart felt struck by him, emotions grew more intense, and the inexplicable urge surged like a rising tide.
Ethan spoke at the perfect mont, "Can you make stir-fried shredded potatoes?"
"I can, co to my place, I’ll cook for you."
Clearly a very normal sentence, yet when heard by both, it carried much implication.
The silent understanding of adults, tacit and unspoken.
Their gazes almost intertwined, perhaps both imagining various mosaic actions in their minds.
Claire licked her chapped lips, she couldn’t wait any longer...
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