He pressed her down, intertwining his fingers with hers and pinning her hands tightly on either side of the bed, looking down at her.
She lay on her back, bearing his intense gaze.
"Do you still dare to say you're leaving?" He asked.
She moved her lips, her voice as quiet as a mosquito's, "What are you going to use to keep me?"
His eyes darkened. He leaned down, and kisses as gentle as a drizzle fell softly on her neck, gradually moving lower.
She frantically tried to grab something, but could only tightly clutch the back of his shirt.
The shirt was crumpled beyond recognition by her small hands rubbing it back and forth.
He was aroused, and Lavinia felt it; it was quite frightening.
She pushed him gently and shook her head slightly.
He pulled back slightly, panting, his heavy breath brushing against the side of her neck.
Lavinia looked at him and said seriously: "I won't look back. I want to move forward with you."
He looked at her and kissed her again.
After a while, he gradually regained his composure.
"Were you intentionally trying to make me mad just now?"
Lavinia blinked and didn't say anything.
It was the first time he noticed her eyes were so round and bright. He leaned in gently and placed a kiss on her eyelid.
Lavinia said: "You kidnapped me just to talk about art history? Isn't that a bit too boring?"
He paused for a long time and slowly spoke: "It's my fault."
Lavinia felt a little wronged, "I know what you're thinking. You're worried about what others will say, right?"
"It doesn't matter what others say. I just don't want us to feel guilty." He also sat up and looked at her.
Lavinia looked straight at him, pronouncing each word clearly, "I have a clear conscience."
He reached out, pulled her into his arms, and whispered in her ear: "Then I have no reservations either."
She smiled and gave him a rewarding peck on the lips.
"Alright, get up. My back aches."
Charley rolled his eyes.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Man Who Never Looked Away