Leng Youchen made no move but merely arched an eyebrow and looked at her wickedly, “Is this a place where I can’t enter?”
Wei Anning felt her scalp ready to explode.
This bastard, what exactly did he want to do?
She glared at him, too angry to utter a word.
In his presence, she was like a city’s defenses breached, retreating step by step.
Just like fish on the chopping board, she was at his mercy to be sliced as he pleased.
Especially in this awkward position, it would be effortless for him to do anything to her.
“Speak up, may I enter or not?” Leng Youchen applied a bit more pressure with his finger.
Wei Anning felt numb all over, looking at him in horror.
With him holding her most vulnerable spot, she had no choice but to submit, even if she knew nothing of the world, “Yes, yes, what’s not okay with that?”
She was on the verge of crying.
Leng Youchen nodded in satisfaction, whispering ambiguously in her ear, “Wei Anjing, listen well, this place is only for me to enter.
If you dare let someone else in, I’ll kill him first, and then I’ll violate you.”
Wei Anning shook with fear.
For some reason, she believed that if he said it, he would definitely do it.
Having declared his sovereignty, he pinched her waist and chuckled as he looked at her agonizingly “little flower” face, “Get down by yourself, then change your clothes.
I’ll call the doctor to have a look at you.”
Wei Anning, overcome with fright, had already forgotten the matter of the rash on her body.
She trembled, trying to climb off him.
But while getting on was easy, getting off was hard.
She’d never hated her own short skirt so much.
The moment she lifted her leg, it hid nothing at all.
She bit her tooth, as everything had already been seen, she wasn’t going to be prudish anymore.
Propping herself up on the armrest, she deftly hopped off his leg, and as for how much “tofu” he managed to “eat” along the way, she no longer had the energy to care.
Standing on the ground, her legs were weak as she stumbled into the walk-in closet and suddenly collapsed onto the Persian carpet, staring blankly into space.
Leng Youchen had always seemed gentle and harmless to her, so she never associated him with the man in the mask; after all, their auras were completely different.
But just then, when he ruthlessly dealt with her, his aura bizarrely overlapped with that of the masked man, making her feel afraid, panicky, wanting to flee.
She no longer knew whether she should expose Leng Youchen’s true face or not.
What if exposing him only led him to more unbridled tormenting of her?
What then?