Chapter 1

"Are you sure you want to have sex here?"

Christopher Taylor's voice was low, with a barely noticeable rasp.

The black Bentley's windows shut out the funeral music and cold rain from the cemetery, but couldn't block the suddenly heated atmosphere inside the car.

Olivia Smith straddled Christopher's lap, her skirt already hiked up to her thighs, her fingertips hooked on the buttons of his black shirt, popping one open with a gentle tug.

When she looked up, her lashes still carried raindrops from when she got in the car, but her eyes were bright, and this look of hers reflected straight into Christopher's eyes.

Christopher's eyes were exceptionally refined, his pupils a deep blue, now casually resting on her, desire hidden in their depths, yet his face still maintained that composed nobility.

"Of course."

Outside the window was Robert Davis's figure. Olivia's fiancé was dealing with guests alongside his first love, Eleanor Mitchell, his profile tense, showing no trace of grief for his father—more like going through a procedure he had no choice but to complete.

Olivia sneered, leaning down, her lips brushing past Christopher's jawline, deliberately biting and licking his Adam's apple, feeling his pulse.

"Doesn't Mr. Taylor find this exciting?"

Her voice was sweet and soft, with deliberately feigned innocence, but her fingers had already moved downward, grasping his penis through the fabric of his dress pants.

But unexpectedly, it remained still, showing no sign of arousal.

Christopher was indeed, as the circles said, indifferent to women. Even facing her bold advances, he could remain unmoved.

But Olivia wanted to see him lose control.

She wanted to see this man Robert feared too much to look directly at, this absolute authority of the Taylor family, captured by her.

More than that, she wanted Robert to know. If he treated her as a substitute and proposed to Eleanor behind her back, then she would have sex with the person he feared most at his own father's funeral.

Just as Olivia was about to push harder, Christopher suddenly tightened his arm around her waist, the force making her press against his chest instantly, clearly smelling the cold cedar scent on him.

"If you want to stop halfway..."

Christopher's lips moved to Olivia's ear, his breath sweeping across her earlobe.

"That won't be up to you."

Olivia's heart jolted, her fingertips trembling slightly, but her voice grew softer, with a hint of provocative sweetness, "I won't regret it."

She kissed him first, her lips barely touching his cool ones before he took control.

Christopher's kiss carried intense possessiveness, instantly sweeping away all of Olivia's breath. Her earlier composure vanished completely, leaving only burning invasion.

She tore at his clothes, her hands unconsciously touching his gradually hardening penis, stroking it.

Christopher's eyes filled with desire.

His fingertips slipped inside her clothes, kneading her breasts, moving down inch by inch, touching her vagina. Those well-defined fingers pressed lightly against her vagina, as if checking something.

"I don't touch dirty people."

Olivia's thighs trembled slightly, her eyes misting over, looking especially hazy.

"Why don't you go in and try? What, is Mr. Taylor scared?"

She bit Christopher's lip, letting out a soft moan, like a fuse. Christopher's desire exploded completely!

The moment Christopher felt that membrane, his penis thrust hard into Olivia.

Olivia's long hair fell loose, a flush on her plain face. He kissed her fiercely and said wickedly, "Move yourself."

Olivia went weak from the kiss, her hands braced on his shoulders, her body rising and falling. Each time, he hit her cervix. Just then, her phone rang.

She glanced at it. It was Robert.

Before she could react, Christopher's eyes darkened, and he answered it directly.

Olivia's heart sank.

Robert's slightly impatient voice came through the phone, "Olivia, you're not kneeling at the tombstone. Where did you run off to?"

Olivia frowned.

Christopher's lips parted.

The surrounding temperature dropped several degrees instantly, but the penis deep inside her vagina grew even hotter.

Olivia's scalp tingled. She tried hard to kiss Christopher's lips to keep him quiet, but intimate sounds still reached Robert's ears.

Robert's face darkened. "Olivia! Where are you, what are you doing!"

"What do you think I'm doing? Having fun, of course."

"It hurts, be gentle, you're going too deep."

Olivia moaned deliberately. "Olivia!"

Robert's roar from the other end exploded through the speaker in the car.

Olivia glanced up slightly and could see Robert raging at the cemetery.

She hung up directly.

"Your name is Olivia? Robert's fiancée?"

The heat left Christopher's body; his eyes were cold, but his hand gripping her waist kept tightening.

He remembered the name Olivia.

Robert's fiancée—the engagement party was in a week. And now she was straddling him, having sex with him.

Olivia twisted her waist gently, her vagina swallowing his penis.

"Yeah, are you scared now?"

The desire in Christopher's eyes faded completely. He suddenly pushed Olivia away, his shirt open, his chest covered in kiss marks, actually quite tempting.

"Sorry, I don't touch food from someone else's bowl."

Especially from Robert's bowl.

Olivia half-closed her eyes, smiling at him. "You seemed to enjoy the taste just now."

Human desire can't be faked.

"Only after tasting did I realize it's rotten."

The rain intensified, hammering on the Bentley's roof with dense sounds, like accompaniment to the atmosphere inside that had suddenly dropped to freezing.

Rotten?

He'd already had sex with her, and Christopher was calling her rotten now?

Olivia's lips twitched. Her skirt was messily bunched on her thighs, the roots of her legs still carrying the warmth of his palms, but that bit of warmth had long been frozen through by the coldness in Christopher's eyes.

She methodically pulled her clothes together, her fingertips sliding across the red marks he'd bitten on her jaw.

When she looked up, the mist in Olivia's eyes had cleared, leaving only a mocking clarity.

"Mr. Taylor's principles work faster than what's below."

Christopher didn't respond, only pulled out a pressed silk handkerchief from the storage compartment, holding it by the corner and offering it, his movements carrying an indisputable distance.

He'd already rebuttoned his shirt, only the top two buttons left open, revealing the light pink marks Olivia had licked on his neck, like unextinguished sparks on his skin, glaringly obvious.

"Get out." Christopher's voice returned to its initial low tone, revealing no emotion.

But just then, Robert came knocking. "Father, I need to talk to you."

Before Christopher could react, Olivia straddled him again.

Her clothes were disheveled once more.

Christopher frowned, displeasure flashing in his eyes. "Mr. Taylor, don't be so heartless."

Christopher pressed Olivia's head against his chest before rolling down the window.