Wen Nuan, "..."
Wen Nuanlei's tears streamed down her face. She had been intelligent since childhood, but at this moment, she deeply realized one thing: her intelligence level was clearly not on the same plane as that of Ye Feimo, and thus, the core ideas of their communication weren't on the same level either.
So, it was like a chicken talking to a duck; their conversation was at cross-purposes.
Was she too foolish, or was he too perverse? Wen Nuan seriously pondered this question.
"Do you think we are talking about the same thing?" Wen Nuan tried to talk to him calmly. She was sure she was calm, but not so sure about him because he looked as if he wanted to rip off her clothes with his fiery gaze.
Wen Nuan began to feel a sense of crisis.
"Don't you think so?"
In just a few words, she was basically certain of one thing.
Ye Feimo was very dominant.
Ye Feimo was very cunning.
Ye Feimo was very perverted.
Ye Feimo was very intelligent.
This was Wen Nuan's conclusion the first time she saw Ye Feimo outside of the bed. Many years later, this conclusion was deeply confirmed.
"By the way, what's your name?"
Wen Nuan, "..."
Have you ever seen a man who, after having been with a woman in bed, then asking her to be his woman, asks in a tone as casual as mentioning the weather, "Woman, what is your name?"
Have you seen it? Have you? Ye Feimo was definitely the first in history.
"Wen Nuan."
Ye Feimo, unflustered, with a sweep of his long arm, caught Wen Nuan in a gasp; she found herself in his embrace. Ye Feimo was definitely a man of action; in a blink, he had her pinned on the couch, capturing her lips and tongue.
Pinned down on the couch, defenseless, she was completely at his mercy.
She was just wearing Ye Feimo's robe, which he loosened with a pull. The vague yet clear memories of that night surfaced, turning her reasoning into mush.
Last time she was drunk, confused about her whereabouts, but now she was extremely alert, all her senses focused on his igniting lips and tongue.