First, then, love.

Shu Yao's palm was pressed against the fabric, her fingers drawing circles on his hard abs without any restraint.

One lap, two laps.

The heater was blowing in the carriage.

He Zheng's breathing became completely disordered.

The red light has ten seconds left.

The countdown timer at the intersection flashed bright red on the windshield, almost blindingly so.

Shu Yao tilted her head back, her red lips slightly parted, and the rich aroma of red wine mixed with the sweetness of tuberose sprayed all over He Zheng's chin.

Her vision was blurry and unfocused, and she could only feel that the muscle under her hand was hard and uncomfortable, like an iron plate.

He frowned in dissatisfaction, and with a slight force from his fingertips, he picked at the fabric.

"Qiaoqiao said..." She hiccuped, her voice soft and drawn out, "You haven't touched me for two months, and you just fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow every night, isn't that right...?"

She paused for a moment, as if trying to recall Qiaoqiao's exact words.

He Zheng gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white, and the veins on the back of his hands bulging like gnarled tree roots.

"What?"

His voice was deep and resonant, and his Adam's apple moved up and down with difficulty.

Shu Yao's courage swelled to its limit under the influence of alcohol.

Instead of removing her hand, she moved it down another half inch along the contour of his abdominal muscles.

It stopped at the edge of the belt buckle.

She asked me, "Are you... not good enough?"

The last two words, like a bombshell, exploded directly in the cramped carriage.

The red light turns green.

The car behind couldn't wait any longer and honked its horn sharply, urging them to hurry.

He Zheng did not step on the gas.

He jerked the steering wheel, and the black SUV, like an enraged panther, crossed the solid line and veered diagonally into the temporary parking area on the side of the road.

He slammed on the brakes and stomped on the victim.

The tires screeched as they dragged across the asphalt, and the car shook violently.

The immense inertia propelled Shu Yao forward.

He Zheng reacted quickly, stretching out his long arm and placing his large hand firmly between her forehead and the center console.

Shu Yao's head slammed heavily into his rough palm, letting out a muffled groan.

The car has come to a complete stop.

He Zheng shifted into Park and pulled the handbrake.

The movements were rough and decisive, filled with barely suppressed anger.

With a "snap," he turned off the only instrument panel backlight in the car.

The carriage went completely dark.

The lights were off, only the dim yellow light from the streetlights outside dappled through the car window.

The light flickered.

He Zheng turned around.

His tall figure loomed over her, casting her entirely in his shadow.

Shu Yao was forced to press her back tightly against the leather seat, with nowhere left to retreat.

He Zheng reached out and grabbed her hand, which was still lingering on the edge of his belt.

It was extremely strong, gripping her slender wrist tightly.

Shu Yao winced in pain and struggled slightly. "It hurts... what are you doing..."

He Zheng didn't let go; instead, he pressed her wrists even harder against the back of the seat and lifted them directly above her head.

The distance between the two instantly closed, to less than three centimeters.

Their breaths mingled.

The car was eerily quiet.

Only the man's hot, labored breathing, one breath after another, pounded against Shu Yao's eardrums.

Although Shu Yao was drunk, her body instinctively sensed danger.

The beast was completely enraged.

She tried to back away, but behind her was the hard back of the chair, and in front of her was his chest, like a wall; there was nowhere to retreat.

"no?"

He Zheng chewed on those two words, then squeezed out a cold laugh through his teeth, his chest trembling.

He lowered his head, his nose almost touching hers.

His dark eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint in the darkness.

Shu Yao swallowed hard, her heart pounding like a drum.

The intoxicating aura jolted me halfway through my drunkenness.

But her stubbornness remained, and she was still defiant.

"Isn't that right? It's been two months, and you sleep like a log every night, not even touching me. What else could it be but impotence...?"

"Shut up," He Zheng hissed, his voice hoarse and irritating.

The veins on his forehead throbbed.

He was restraining himself, so much so that his whole body was trembling.

We've shared a bed for the past two months.

He was a normal man. Every night, he listened to her turning over in bed, smelled the intoxicating scent of tuberose on her body, and watched her sway in front of him in her thin silk nightgown.

He was about to explode with pent-up frustration.

Many nights, he would rush into the guest bathroom to take a cold shower or go to the balcony to feel the cold wind, forcefully suppressing his lustful desires.

He was afraid he wouldn't be able to control his strength, afraid he would hurt her with his clumsy hands, and afraid that she would only accept the marriage out of obligation.

He gave her enough respect and time to adjust.

As a result, this woman actually discussed with her best friend whether he was impotent, and even dared to question him to his face.

The man's dignity was trampled underfoot and ruthlessly trampled by her.

He Zheng used his other hand to pinch her chin.

His fingers caressed her delicate skin, sending shivers of tingling pleasure through him.

He used a little force to compel her to lift her head and look directly into his eyes.

"Shu Yao, do you know what happens when you provoke a grown, normal man?"

Shu Yao bit her lower lip and remained silent.

Her chest heaved violently. Due to the struggle, the neckline of her black velvet dress was slightly disheveled, and one shoulder strap had slipped halfway down, exposing a large expanse of her fair skin to the dim light.

He Zheng's gaze involuntarily swept over that dazzling expanse of white skin.

His Adam's apple bobbed heavily.

The hand that was holding her wrist was incredibly hot.

That fire, traveling from his palm, burned all the way to Shu Yao's heart, making her feel weak all over.

The light from the streetlights swept past the car window, illuminating He Zheng's eyes.

Shu Yao finally got scared.

Because she could clearly feel the changes in his body.

The two were standing too close.

There was something as hard as iron pressed against the outside of her thigh.

It is full of threats and aggression.

This is no joke; this is real guns and ammunition.

Shu Yao didn't dare to move at all, and even slowed down her breathing.

Her long eyelashes trembled uneasily, like two small brushes scratching at He Zheng's heart.

He Zheng lowered his head.

His thin lips brushed against her earlobe, stopping just half an inch from her cheek.

His hot breath sprayed all over her sensitive neck.

Shu Yao shuddered, a layer of fine goosebumps rising on her skin.

The air inside the carriage was extremely thick, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out.

The man's voice was extremely low, with a hoarse, grainy quality, like rough sandpaper rubbing against a tabletop.

Each word, spoken clearly and deliberately, struck her ears.

"Shu Yao, I'm not a saint. If you touch me again, you'll face the consequences."