The development of the situation was completely out of control.
The whole world seemed to have been pressed on a pause button.
Hugh Ronan pecked Wendy Wayne's lips a few times, opened his eyes and saw the woman's face tinged with red, and her dazed, uncertain eyes.
Any man who sees this scene would feel a sense of satisfaction.
Even a wandering rogue like Hugh Ronan was still pleased by Wendy Wayne's response.
She truly is comparable to a blank canvas of an heiress.
Hugh Ronan's heated palm caressed her left cheek, licking the corner of his mouth provocatively, "Did you add sugar to the soymilk?"
Wendy Wayne blinked dazedly, "What?"
With a reminiscing lick on his thin lips, the man said, "So sweet."
Wendy Wayne's face instantly turned crimson, "Get off!"
As expected, nothing good comes from a dog's mouth.
Hugh Ronan buried his head in her neck, his low laughter particularly enticing, "Indeed sweet, just... poor technique."
"Hugh Ronan!"
