Viola was annoyed and anxious. "Let go of me!"
Her hands were shackled, and her legs were pressed so hard that she couldn't move. Her whole body was in pain.
"What?" Maynard gave her a questioning look and said, "I'm teaching you how to successfully attract my attention."
Viola wanted to cry, "Who wants to learn that?"
How shameless he was.
Viola wriggled with embarrassment.
"Don't move, otherwise..." Her earlobe was scratched by the fingertip of Maynard.
A tingle could be clearly heard in her ears. Viola instinctively tried to avoid it.
They were very close to each other. The temperature of Maynard's body was becoming hotter and hotter, as if he could burn her.
Viola was like a cat on hot bricks, getting agitated. What should she do?
Seeing that Maynard's behavior was getting more and more unbridled, Viola tried her best to struggle, but all in vain.
As she was at a loss, from the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the ashtray by the table. In a hurry, she, like seeing a savior, stretched out her hand and hit him on his cracked forehead.
"Wow!" Maynard felt a sharp pain and loosened his grip. Then he covered his forehead, while a stream of blood slid down the wound.