Vio didn’t resist or give in; he just stood there, unmoving, letting her kiss him right at this corner of the second-floor corridor.

One hand of the man rested on the railing, while the other hung by his side, its fingertips twitching slightly before stopping again.

He lowered his gaze to her closed eyes.

The girl’s eyelashes trembled.

Her kiss was clumsy and awkward—her lips pressed against his, neither moving nor probing, just staying there.

Her breathing was ragged, hot breaths blowing onto his face.

Was she really determined to sleep with him? So clingy? It really was playing hard to get.

Vio felt a strange itch in his heart, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

He did like her this way.

The man raised his hand to gently cup her shoulders, then pushed her away ever so slightly.

Her lips parted from his, red and moist, still carrying a trace of his warmth.

The girl looked at him blankly.

“Kiss my Adam’s apple,” he said, curling his lips upward.

She paused for a moment, then actually did as he asked.

Qin Qinxi leaned in, pressing her lips against his Adam’s apple.

Her lips were soft, touching that protruding bone—cool and damp.

Vio rolled his Adam’s apple, and her lips followed, rubbing up and down in a ticklish way.

“Lick it.”

Qin Qinxi’s face flushed with embarrassment.

But she really did need him—and she needed him badly.

So she had no choice but to obey.

Vio closed his eyes and rolled his Adam’s apple once more.

One hand that had been on her shoulder slid down to the back of her neck, gently squeezing the delicate skin there.

The other hand moved lower, sliding along her waist and giving her butt a light slap.

The girl shuddered and drew herself in, but she didn’t pull away. She buried her face in his neck, her ears burning bright red.

Then the man lowered his head to kiss her lips.

He took her bottom lip between his teeth and bit it lightly. She let out a little moan of pain, and he seized the opportunity to pry open her mouth, slipping his tongue in and wrapping around hers.

She was kissed so tightly she could hardly breathe and took a step back.

Just as the back of her head was about to hit the wall, Vio slipped a hand behind her, palm flat against the wall, creating a barrier between her and the wall.

She was trapped between his arm and the wall, with nowhere to escape.

He kept kissing her as he led her toward the bedroom, pushing the door open with one hand and hooking his foot under the door to hold it shut.

With a “click,” the lock snapped into place.

He lifted her up and carried her to the table.

No sooner had she settled than he began tearing at her clothes.

Starting from the neckline, one hand held her shoulder steady while the other tugged at the fabric.

With a sharp “tear,” the cloth ripped all the way from the collar to the hem, the fibers snapping one by one between his fingers.

When had Vio come to enjoy this kind of thing?

It was那次 she wore that very tight dress—he tore it once, and he was hooked ever since.

He loved hearing that sound, loved watching the fabric split open on her body to reveal the skin beneath.

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

Vio picked her up from the table and carried her into the bathroom. They showered together.

Hot water poured down from above, steam rising to blur the outlines of the two of them.

After they finished, he carried her over to the sink counter.

Once they were done,

he carried her out of the bathroom and back to bed.

Her whole body went limp, like she had no bones at all. She leaned against him, her face buried in his neck, her fingers loosely resting on his shoulder—she didn’t even have the strength to clench them.

Tonight would be another sleepless night.

“Master.”

She took the initiative to call him that.

At this moment, she was pressed against his chest, her chin resting on his sternum, her wet eyes looking up at him.

Tears still clung to the tips of her lashes, her nose was red, and her lips were a bit swollen from all the kissing. She curled up in his arms, looking utterly pitiful.

Vio looked down at her.

This time, he understood.

She needed something from him, but she was too shy to ask directly, so she’d gone roundabout ways to climb onto him.

Suddenly, he felt like laughing—but also some indescribable feeling, as if something was scratching at his chest.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I… I want a phone… is that okay?” Her voice was so soft, as if she were afraid he’d refuse, or as if she thought she’d asked for something far too much.

End of Chapter 61: Chapter 61