He smirks. “I’m not touching.”
I lift my chin. “You were just now.”
“And you were enjoying it.” His smirk stretches across his face.
I glance around, trying to sound casual. “It’s normal. If it were any other man in your place, it would have been the same.”
Matleon’s smirk vanishes in an instant.
Satan is back.
He grabs my waist, yanking me up against the bookshelf. Pain shoots through me where he’s holding my weight. I try to plant my toes, but the floor seems to vanish beneath me. His other hand clamps around my chin. Dark eyes, clenched jaw, furrowed brows—anger radiating from every inch of him.
“You think it would have been the same?”
I nod. His body trembles with the force of his rage. The grinding of his teeth is audible even over the frantic pounding of my heart. I did this to make him angry, so why is my own heart racing like this? Is it fear of his anger, or the pain biting into my waist?
He leans forward, his mouth brushing my cheek. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
His lips trail down to my neck. He sucks at my skin, circling my throat, and a strangled moan slips out of me before I can stop it.
He releases my waist. My body slides down between him and the bookshelf, my knees buckling. I clutch the shelf behind me just to stay upright, my legs shaking.
He bends down again, one hand gripping my chin, the other planted beside my head. His lips graze my ear as he speaks, voice low and lethal. “If a man ever dares to exist even in your thoughts, I’ll cut him into neat little pieces, right in front of your eyes.”
Before I can process the words, his mouth crashes into mine. The kiss is brutal, punishing. I can’t stop it. I can’t evenregister it properly. My head spins from the force, from the dominance, from the sheer intensity of him.
And then—cold.
He pulls away, leaving me rooted to the spot as he circles the wall and disappears into the bathroom.
My heart is still lodged in my throat. I drag in greedy breaths, finally forcing my trembling legs to move.
I somehow make it to the bed and sit down. After collecting myself, I lie back, phone in hand, and open my notes.
I cross out the first heading: “Make him angry to the point he goes crazy.” That won’t work. I don’t have enough guts to make him angry without driving myself crazy. Because when he gets angry, he does that, and I do not want a repeat performance of what just happened.
My lips ache. The space between my thighs aches too, but the ache is different, pulling my thoughts straight back to the edge of the bed, to the bookshelf,to him.
I press my fingers against my burning core, but I know I’ll never be able to make myself come the way he did.Matleon is irreplaceable.I shake my head and redirect my attention to my phone.
My eyes land on the next point: “Treat him like air, so he gets irritated from lack of attention.” Better. Safe. No forced, maddening kisses from this. And I won’t feel any of that.
I write at the top in bold red letters: “Stay two feet away from Matleon.”
I set my phone down, close my eyes, and ask the room assistant to turn off the lights. The next second, my eyes snap open. I ask the assistant to turn them back on again.
I sit upright. I can’t sleep in his bed. And with his parents here, I can’t even move to another room. There’s no couch in this room. Wen had told me there used to be a full sofa set, butit’s gone now. They all teased me relentlessly, saying I had no choice but to sleep with Matleon in this bed.
I take the quilt and pillow and get down from the bed. I walk around it and, just beside the balcony door, place the pillow on the carpet and spread the quilt over it, then lie down. I ask the room assistant to increase the room temperature and turn off the lights.
Turning my back to the room, I look out through the glass balcony door. The waning crescent moon glows softly in the sky. My mom has so many songs she sings to the moon, one of them is my favorite, the lullaby I could never tire of. I close my eyes, my mom’s sweet voice echoing in memory, pulling me gently toward sleep.
chapter 22
Matleon
I stir awake from the movement in my arms. I open my eyes without moving a muscle. Her face is buried in my neck, her body pressed against me, one arm wrapped around my chest, one leg draped over my thigh, just an inch away from my dick. I lift my head slightly and see her creamy thigh completely bare, my dick twitches at the sight.
