"On your body?" Matilda Jenkins looked Nathaniel York up and down, taking him seriously.
"Yeah, you told me to take it, now that I'm going to take it back, you can't shamelessly refuse to give it to me."
In the night, a faint smile appeared on Nathaniel York's pale face, injecting a trace of life into it: "Of course not."
Before his words fell, there was a dull thud, the view in front of him suddenly changed, his head hurt, and he was lying flat on the ground, knocked over solidly.
Nathaniel York's head was dizzy for a moment. He felt a weight on him, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Matilda Jenkins straddling him and groping all over his body.
His chest, waist, pants – she stopped just short of unbuckling his belt.
Nathaniel York frowned, and his face reddened slightly in the darkness. He didn't move and asked coldly, "As a woman, do you know what it means to touch a man like this?"
