Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
After dinner, Charles drove me home and asked, "Do you want to go to a bar for a drink?"
"I don't want to," I shook my head.
"Then what do you want to do?" he asked.
"I want..." I blinked, "to go to your house."
He paused for a moment, then smiled, "Sure."
Charles's house was large and luxuriously decorated, filled with antiques and artworks.
I sat on the sofa while he poured me a glass of red wine.
I took a sip and asked him, "Why don't you ask me why I want to go to your house?"
"You want to go, so I'll take you," he smiled.
"Aren't you afraid of me?" I tilted my head and asked innocently.
"Afraid of what?" he countered.
"Afraid that I might eat you," I laughed.
He laughed too, "Then I would welcome that."
He leaned closer, his arm wrapped around my waist, and I smelled his cologne, a faint hint of tobacco.
I set down the wine glass and wrapped my arms around his neck. He lowered his head to kiss me, and I closed my eyes, feeling his kiss.
His kiss was gentle, but I didn't like it; I preferred passionate, wild kisses.
His hands roamed over my body, and I grasped his hand: "Not here."
"Then where do you want to?" he whispered.
"To your bedroom."
He took my hand and led me into the bedroom.
The bedroom was spacious, with a huge bed.
He released my hand and unbuttoned his shirt.
I looked at him; his muscles were solid and well-defined.
He took off his shirt, revealing a strong upper body. I asked him, "Why don't you ask me what I want to do at your place?"
"What do you want to do?" he retorted.
"I want..." I smiled and slowly walked towards him, "to play a game with you."
"A game?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Yes." I stood in front of him and reached out to touch his chest. "Let's play a game: if you win, I'll be your girlfriend."
"And if I lose?" He grabbed my hand.
"Then you let me hit you," I laughed.
He frowned, "Hit where?"
"Anywhere," I pulled my hand back, let my hair down, and then took off my high heels, standing barefoot on the floor.
"Are you ready?" I asked.
He nodded.
I threw a punch at him; he reacted quickly and dodged it.
He continued to evade without attacking.
I increased my speed, throwing punch after punch at him; he kept dodging but didn’t fight back.
I got angry and said, "If you don’t fight back, then that means you lost."
"I don't want to hurt you," he said.
"You wouldn't hurt me," I laughed, "You're too scared to hit back; that means you've lost."
He stopped and looked at me: "Where do you want to hit?"
"Here." I pointed to my face.
He stared at me for a moment, then suddenly raised his hand and slapped my face.
I was stunned; did he really dare to hit me?
I covered my face, staring at him in shock.
He remained expressionless: "You lost."
"You..." I trembled with anger, "How dare you hit me!"
"Didn't you want to play this game?" he said calmly.
"You bastard!" I raised my hand to hit him, but he grabbed my wrist and pushed me onto the bed.
I fell onto the bed, and he pressed down on me. I struggled, but he held my arms, preventing me from moving.
I glared at him while he looked down at me, and we were at a standstill.
After a long time, I gave up struggling and said, "You win."
He released me, and I sat on the bed, looking down in silence.
"Are you angry?" he asked me.
I shook my head.
"Then why aren't you speaking?" he asked again.
"I don't know what to say," I replied softly.
He looked at me and was silent for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have hit you."
"It's okay," I looked up at him, "I chose to play willingly."
"Let's start over," he said.
"Okay," I smiled.
Comment 0 Comment Count