Wu Chengzu held Bai Yiran's hand, the soft and smooth touch made his heart flutter.
"Mr. Wu, please let go of my hand!" Bai Yiran said urgently in a low voice, there were other guests in the restaurant, and Bai Yiran didn't want to attract attention with large movements or loud voices.
Wu Chengzu's grip tightened even more, "Don't call me Mr. Wu."
"What?"
Wu Chengzu laughed, a somewhat desolate laugh, yet his voice carried a fierce force, like a warning, like a plea, "Don't call me Mr. Wu!"
He really didn't want to let go of these hands. If he could, Wu Chengzu really wanted to hold them like this forever. Of course, what he desired was not just to hold her hand. He wanted to press her beneath him, listen to her wonderful breaths, watch her charming expressions.
He once shamefully fantasized about Bai Yiran beneath him, for a long period, he was tormented by such filthy thoughts to the brink of madness, and had to turn to Cheng Shishi.
