Ming Yao's shoulder collided with the wall, and before she could even ease the pain, the man's tall and strong body leaned toward her.
Her hands instinctively braced against his chest.
Beneath the shirt, his chest was firm and hard, with not an ounce of excess fat, feeling extremely pleasant to the touch.
The anger simmering at the bottom of Ming Yao's heart dissipated slightly.
She looked at the man who was so close, with a smile that was not quite a smile, "Husband, I was drugged last night, but you were sober, weren't you? Later, when you couldn't control yourself, can you blame it all on me?"
Her fingertips traced his chest, her voice carrying a hint of seduction, "Your mouth may lie, but your body—" She hissed.
Her fingertips were seized by his large hand, his grip so strong it almost crushed her bones.
Ming Yao gasped in pain.
This damn jerk!
