After tossing and turning for over two hours, he finally rolled off the bed, picked up the clothes scattered on the floor, and tossed them into the laundry basket.
The room was freezing, yet her body was slick with sweat.
She swore Lucas's bones were forged from steel—otherwise, how could she feel like she'd been utterly crushed?
*Typical old man,* she scoffed inwardly.
*Must've been desperate to blow off steam.*
"Lucas!
Just how lonely are you?
You'd pounce on any random girl without a second thought!"
Beauty shot him a scathing look, her pink lips pressed tight, her voice deliberately cool and raised.
Suddenly, his strikingly handsome yet icy face loomed close, his teeth lightly grazing her earlobe.
She shuddered at the unexpected touch.
Luckily, he didn't bite down—just left her skin tingling.
"You weren't exactly resisting earlier.
In fact, you seemed even more… *enthusiastic* than last time."
*Enthusiastic.*
The word burned her with shame.
