The little girl was so recklessly provocative that if he did not satisfy her, he would truly be letting down his own heart that yearned to tear her apart. His arms braced against the side of the bed as he leaped onto it, pinning her beneath him.
His movement was swift, and his form was as perfect as a cheetah's.
Anning fell into the soft bedding, panic flickering in her for a moment as she looked apprehensively at the man above her, bursting with masculine hormones. She could even feel his abdominal muscles pressing down on her, exuding a terrifying strength.
She forced herself to calm down; today was her turf, she couldn't lose her nerve now.
She propped herself up by his neck, her voice cooing into his very bones, melting much of him, "Dear, don't be in such a hurry, let me take care of you slowly."