The grip on her hand tightened, causing Valentine Teller pain.
"Ah, it hurts, let go!"
She cried out in pain, trying to slap his hand away.
But his hand was behind her, out of her reach.
"No." He was always overbearing and unreasonable; how could he easily let her go?
He wanted to kiss her again, to release his passion on her body once more.
In the narrow car cabin, his heavy breathing was evident.
She always could easily ignite his anger, inflame his passion.
He hated losing control of himself, yet there was nothing he could do.
Even while grabbing her shoulder now, he couldn't distinguish whether what boiled within him was passion or anger, only that he was very hot.
A wave of heat surged through his body, seemingly about to consume him at any moment.
His throat was dry, swallowing continuously, his Adam's apple bobbing, struggling to calm his emotions.
Did this woman drug him while cooking noodles?
