Alena Wright stared at the shirt at his neckline, swallowed unconsciously, the tension in her heart had reached its peak, and she seemed to be ready to express herself at any time.

"Why? Not willing?" Waylon Gray smiled cruelly, with anger in his eyes, but his tone was still calm.

Alena didn't speak, but just proved to him with actions.

The woman's hands were cold, and there was an obvious tremor the moment she touched his chin.

Waylon is motionless like a mountain, his indifferent eyebrows are like a sharp painting, and the whole person reveals a powerful aura that makes people shudder.

Alena's hand stiffly touched the first button...