However, two years ago, I had never seen him smoke. Nor had I ever smelled smoke on him.
It must have been be... really unbearable.
The man’s kiss was gentle yet passionate. It felt like he was giving me everything he had.
I seemed to have lost all my strength. I could only stand because of the his arm that was wrapped around my waist.
Frank seemed to have sensed something. He slowly backed up as he kissed me. He parted my legs after sitting down on the sofa and told me to sit on him.
His voice was hoarse, "Your period really knows how to pick its timing."
My cheeks grew even hotter. "It comes at this time every month. It can't be helped."
"It's okay." His gaze was deep, and his voice very low. "I'll wait. Charlotte, in these 20 years, the thing I'm best at is waiting."
I threaded my fingers through his hair and gently kissed his brow, using the term of address I had always avoided in childhood. "Franky, thank you."
He was taken aback, his eyes reflecting surprise and pleasure. "What did you call me?"
"Called you Frank. Didn't you hear?"
"No." He pinched the soft flesh at my waist. "Say that word again."
"You don't like being called that by others, do you?" I asked, deliberately holding back a laugh as he pinched me, feeling quite ticklish.
I remembered how Bethany used to call him that, and he always reacted with aversion.
Frank, with his good memory, naturally knew what I was referring to, and chuckled. "You said it yourself, I don't like being called that by others. Are you 'others'? Charlotte, from the moment you were born, you were destined to be mine."
"That seems to make some sense?"
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