On the King-size Bed in the Presidential Suite, two bodies were tightly pressed together.
David Redington's reaction was beyond Leslie Howard's expectations.
Before she could figure out what was happening, he pushed her down on the sofa and kissed her fiercely.
Then, her breath was stolen, her breaths chaotic, her mind blank.
By the time she regained her breath and her sanity returned, David had already stripped her bare and thrown her on the bed in the inner bedroom.
Her soft waist was tightly restrained by David, allowing no escape.
The man's broad, powerful chest was right in front of her, filling her vision.
The night from more than four years ago almost replayed in front of her eyes.
But unlike that time, both David and she were drugged and in a daze.
And now... they were both clearly sober, yet the room's burning heat was even more intense than last time.
David's breath was clearly so cold, just like the cold and distant feeling he gave others.
