Chen Lin let out a soft gasp, instinctively clutching his jacket as he pressed her closer, his grip on her waist firm, unwavering.
There was a hunger in the way he kissed her, in the way his fingers flexed against her skin as if making sure she was real.
That she was here, with him.
She barely had time to react before he angled his head, deepening the kiss, taking more—like he couldn't get enough of her.
And maybe he couldn't.
Maybe he never would.
Wu Yuxuan had always been composed, controlled. But not now. Not with her.
She had shattered that careful restraint with just a few simple words.
"Yuxuan—" Chen Lin barely had time to turn toward him before he was on her.
His hands found her waist, pulling her toward him with a firm, almost desperate grip. His lips crashed against hers—not hesitant this time, not fleeting.
This wasn't just a whisper of a kiss.
This was possession.
His fingers curled against her sides, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of her dress.
