He stared at her foot. Ling Yue felt the weight of his gaze, and her toes curled instinctively, as if trying to hide her embarrassment.
“What exactly do you want?” Her voice trembled slightly, barely noticeable.
But Jiang Muchen couldn’t hear her. He squatted there, silent and unmoving like a stone.
Then, he did something that left Ling Yue nearly dumbfounded.
He lifted that large, rain-soaked hand, and with the rough pad of his thumb, extremely slowly and with deliberate pressure, he stroked the smooth top of her foot.
Ling Yue drew in a sharp breath. Her ankle twitched slightly in the other hand he held, but he gripped it without flinching.
The thick callus on his thumb scraped over her tender, flawless skin like the finest sandpaper. The mud and water were wiped away, from the top of her foot to the rounded ankle bone… the rain kept falling, yet she couldn’t ignore the burning heat of his fingertips.
The thick callus rubbing against her delicate skin made her cry out in discomfort. She kicked at his broad shoulder.
His movement froze, but his hand on her ankle did not loosen.
He slowly lifted his head and looked at her. Rain ran down from his hair, sliding over his high nose bridge. His deep, dark eyes, like bottomless pools of cold water, churned with a suppressed, even darker emotion.
“You hate me.”
Without his hearing aid, his voice sounded slightly odd: “You hate me…”
Was this guy feeling wronged?
“Listen,” Ling Yue placed her hand on his shoulder, leaning slightly forward, her voice soft: “I have a boyfriend. We’ve known each other since we were kids. We care for each other very much, and we’ll get married after university.”
He couldn’t hear a word she said.
Her eyes stayed fixed on him, unblinking. Her pink lips moved, and Jiang Muchen felt heat rising low in his body…
“My dad always tells me to be magnanimous. What you did earlier, kissing me… I can pretend it never happened. I don’t hate you, but I don’t like you either…”
Ling Yue was still trying to set boundaries, unaware that in Jiang Muchen’s completely silent world, her gaze, the movement of her lips, had become the most direct and deadly temptation.
He saw her lips move again.
His heart tightened sharply. That suppressed heat surged violently, breaking through every dam.
Before Ling Yue could even finish speaking, and without her seeing how he moved, the wrist she had resting on his shoulder was suddenly grasped by his scorching hand.
The force was so strong that she cried out in pain.
The next second, his tall figure toppled over like a mountain!
Without any warning, his lips—cold from the rain, yet burning with his own heat—covered her chattering mouth with brutal precision!
It was a possessive, undeniable kiss.
His lips were softer than the callused hand that held her, but the force was extreme, ruthlessly prying open her slightly parted teeth in shock. The kiss carried an overwhelming, domineering intensity that swept over all her senses.
The faint earthy scent of rain mixed with his unique aroma—a combination of sweat and rain—overwhelmed her, making her dizzy.
Ling Yue’s mind went blank. All that remained was instinctive struggle.
He held her tightly against him, her back pressed to the cold rock, her front against his scorching, solid chest—there was nowhere to escape.
His kiss was devoid of finesse, only raw, primal desire and possessiveness, intent on consuming her entirely.
She could feel the violent rise and fall of his chest, hear his heavy, restrained breaths mingling with the rain drumming on her ears. One of his hands still gripped her wrist, the other locked firmly on the back of her head, forcing her to endure the kiss without retreat.
The suffocating pressure mingled with a strange, thrilling tremor, spreading from their lips to every limb.
Her strength to resist seemed drained bit by bit by the kiss. Her fingers curled weakly on his soaked clothing, eventually falling limply.