Feng Yueming really liked how she cursed at people. Her light scolds and slight anger made her hiss at him like a little kitten when teased, amusing yet captivating.
"Why are you sleeping soaking wet? Why don't you change your clothes?" Feng Yueming glanced down at her body. She was wearing a white dress, now clinging wetly to her, outlining her graceful, delicate curves in a faint reveal. A phrase came to his mind—seductive wet show.
He asked her why she didn't change her clothes.
Change into that disgusting sensual underwear?
"Feng Yueming, do you find it disgusting?"
Feng Yueming immediately frowned, his voice displeased, "Mi Yao, have you taken the wrong medication? Try cursing at me one more time!"
"I will curse you! You're despicable, shameless, vile, and nothing but a tyrant who resorts to violence! What else can you do to me besides coerce? You may have imprisoned my body, but I will never submit to you!"
She really wouldn't submit.
