Without a shred of tenderness, he entered suddenly and without warning. Wei Anning's body froze, her struggling stopped, and tears began to pour uncontrollably, sliding from the corners of her eyes and disappearing into the tangled black strands of her hair.
She turned her head and saw their intertwined silhouettes reflected on the floor-to-ceiling window. He was impeccably dressed, not the slightest sign of disarray.
Her clothes were still on, except for her jeans, which had been pulled down to her knees. Despite all their time together, she had never felt such humiliation as she did now. In his eyes, she was nothing more than a tool for his release, never his lover.
Otherwise, why didn't he trust her?
When Leng Youchen invaded her body, clarity returned to him all at once. He lowered his gaze and saw her incessant tears. He hesitated, reaching out in an attempt to touch her face. "Anning…"
