"You..."
She was about to say something when Song Sinian suddenly turned around and pinned her against the dining table.
Her small hands were propped on the table, and behind her, his tall figure blocked her, casting an imposing shadow over her from above.
"Hush, Zhaozhao, be good..." He cooed at her while scooping up her waist with one hand.
Lu Zhaozhao, caught off guard, found herself completely sprawled on the table, with half of her body practically suspended in air, her feet desperately trying to find a foothold on the ground.
She couldn't care less about the cold now, her hands frantically clawing the table but finding no leverage whatsoever.
Suddenly, the familiar scent of cedar wood caused her nerves to flood like a rising tide, viciously rushing in from the boundless sea and crashing over the coast again and again.
The spine-tingling sensation spread from her back to her limbs, delightfully and intensely tingling to the tips of her toes.
