Anjue's face was grim, and he rudely dragged her into the office along the way. Her wrist was crushed by his grip, yet she dared not make a sound. Once in the office, he slammed the door shut and pinned her against it, delivering a reckless kiss without warning.
She felt the pain yet dared not even struggle. Both her hands were held by him, trapped above her head. He was always so domineering; whether kissing her or doing other things, he would always grab her hands to prevent her from struggling.
He controlled everything as if he controlled her life.
He was angry.
Very angry.
He kissed her all the way from the door to the sofa, then to the office desk. The documents on the desk were swept to the floor by him rudely. With reddened eyes, he tore her clothes and once again forced himself on her on that very desk where he often worked.
