"Molly Wellington..." Abraham Redington called her in a low voice.
His thin lips were close to her ear, nibbling on her small, round earlobe.
His magnetic, lazy voice was slightly hoarse, as if tinged with desire or simmering anger. It was sexy enough to make Molly Wellington's ears burn, sending a tingling sensation like an electric current from her ears to her limbs.
The girl's almond-shaped eyes were misty with a watery haze, her gaze becoming increasingly dazed, caught up in a novel, wonderful feeling.
At this moment, Abraham Redington's magnetic, lazy voice sounded again.
He whispered beside her ear, asking, "Molly, do you really want to marry me?"
"Hmm...?"
Molly Wellington's soft, sticky voice carried a trace of bewilderment.
For a moment, she didn't comprehend Abraham Redington's question.
But when the tingling sensation in her body slightly faded, she became somewhat clear.
To marry him?
Of course, she wanted to.
