This time, Ning Guiwan couldn't dodge. Quan Yu seemed to have anticipated it. The moment he lowered his head, the hand that had been pinching her chin moved behind her, gripping the back of her head and holding it firmly.
He was skilled and deft, leaving Ning Guiwan no room to struggle. Her nostrils filled with his scent—a mixture of alcohol, tobacco, and the faint, cool bitterness of agarwood.
The car window was slowly raised. The once-clear noises from outside became muffled. Ning Guiwan gradually found it difficult to breathe, her head growing muddled.
But her hands remained firmly pressed against Quan Yu's shoulders, attempting to keep some distance between them, though it was all in vain.
She had just reached her limit when the car window was suddenly knocked on. Ning Guiwan's heart clenched.
Quan Yu reacted faster. The moment her body stiffened, he helped her sit up properly. She felt weak and leaned against the seatback, panting softly.
