The Devil’s Designated Lover

Just as An Ke was hesitating, Jun Hao suddenly opened his eyes and forcefully grabbed her hands: “Woman, what exactly do you want? If you wanted to attract my attention, you’ve already done so. So why do you keep pretending to ignore me?”

An Ke stared at the ceiling with wide-open eyes. She had no virgin complex and wasn’t opposed to intimate relations before marriage. However, what happened tonight—could it be called rape? She had never imagined someone would forcibly occupy her body, especially this man whom she deeply despised. Should she hate him? Yet when he was gentle, she couldn’t help but respond to him. Turning her head, she looked at Jun Hao, who seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep, still encircling her slender waist in a possessive manner. His body carried a faint tobacco scent, so subtle and different from the nauseating odors others had. The last time he held her after being shot, she nestled in his arms, inhaling that light tobacco smell, wishing time could stop at that moment. She had to admit that he could sometimes be gentle and considerate, expressing care in his unique way. If she had harbored any slight fondness for him before, after tonight her heart would never open to him again. She moved, removing his hands, and Jun Hao’s low voice came: “You’ll never escape me in this lifetime.” As he spoke, he pulled her close, pressing her head against his chest.

An Ke suddenly bit hard on his chest, drawing blood, but he seemed unaffected, still holding her: “I want not just your body, but your heart.” His long fingers traced circles on her chest, showing no remorse for his previous actions, believing that taking her was a gift—how arrogant he was.

Her tone was flat, as if speaking about something unrelated to her: “Why me?”

Jun Hao, still with closed eyes, replied impatiently: “I’ve told you many times—there’s no why. It’s simply because I’m pleased. Go to sleep. We’ll leave together tomorrow. I won’t give you another chance to provoke other men.” He pulled her closer, stroking her hair with one hand and patting her back with the other.

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