The man was hesitant.
Even he himself was unclear about why.
While she was right before his eyes, she always gave an unfathomable feeling.
Arnold Simmons closed his eyes, an agile silver lighter flipping between his fingertips.
A light click.
The orange fla was extinguished at the tip of his finger.
He reached out and grabbed the girl’s mischievous hand, and lifted his gaze, staring at her with an intense, unyielding gaze – the crimson in his eyes and the thoughts of wanting to devour her were not suppressed in the slightest, "I fear you won’t be able to bear it."
The man’s voice was raspy to the point of incoherence, even the breath he exhaled was teeming with a searing heat.
The distance between them was reduced in an instant, heating the surrounding air, yet there was a sense of an evenly-matched standoff.
Arnold Simmons was examining the girl in front of him. She looked up at him with a suggestive, playful smile, her long eyelashes trembling slightly. Below that were her cute, round nose and juicy cherry lips.
The corners of her mouth lifted, revealing an enchanting curve that teased him. Getting closer, he could even sll the sweet scent of her lips, making him desire to take a bite and savour it slowly.
Would it taste as sweet and sticky as a cherry after a gentle nip?
She was dangerous, mysterious like the seemingly bottomless sea, once plunged into which there would be no escape.
In the final mont, when only a hair’s breadth separated them, Arnold steadied his mind, wanting to pull away. However, Hannah didn’t afford him such an opportunity.
She rose and with one stride, sat directly on the man’s waist.
There was skin to skin contact, delicate and warm.
It was in this mont that Arnold fully understood the ancient phrase "as fragrant and soft as jade".
He thought, he may be falling for her.
She leaned into his ear, whispering, her lips casually brushing against him as she said, "Mr. Simmons, aren’t you attracted to at all?"
She was like a siren.
One who could steal your soul.
She reached out and traced down his shoulder, his arm, finally landing in his large palm, their fingers entwined.
A snap—
The silver lighter fell, hitting the floor.
Arnold Simmons remained silent for a long ti, his eyes tightly shut, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
This was undoubtedly the most disheveled day in the life of this decisive ruler of the Simmons family, who was always revered in the business world.
Hannah was getting impatient, she lowered her eyes and said, "Mr. Simmons, are you...unable to perform?"
As her voice trailed off, Hannah felt like she was being watched by sothing predatory. She looked up and t his ever deepening gaze. His eyes seed to radiate a bloody red.
It was dark, deep, turbulent, almost devouring everything.
Hannah was startled.
This was playing with fire.
She hurriedly tried to stand up and run, but before she could rise, she felt a powerful arm gripping her waist.
Her vision went dark and in an instant, their positions were reversed.
He was on top of her, his breath like a scorching fire.
Hannah instinctively stretched her hand out to his chest, blushing imdiately as she realized what she had touched, "I... I’m sorry."
She quickly withdrew her hand. No longer the seductive siren, she seed more like a guilty cat trying to find a hiding place.
"Hannah Winter," he lowered his head, his voice hoarse and deep, his gaze filled with manic desire to engulf the woman in his arms, "It’s too late to run. Instead of running, think about what position you want."
Even the man’s eye corners were tainted with a layer of ravishing color, making his handso face enchantingly captivating.
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