Although Mikhailovna's words were stern, carrying a noblewoman's reserve and reproach,
her mature, voluptuous figure was graceful to begin with, and after more than an hour of stimulation, her voice held an unconscious softness and tremor, while the blush on her cheeks had yet to fade.
Rather than looking intimidating, she had the allure of someone refusing while inviting, as though she were pouting coyly.
Fortunately, Li Chen had just thoroughly sated himself with Lyudmila and her sister. Otherwise, with her looking like this, he might well have taken her right there in the room.
Li Chen completely ignored her powerless rebuke and walked straight into the room, gently closing the door behind him, as casually as if he had come home.
At this, Mikhailovna instinctively retreated several steps, nervously crossing her hands over her chest in an attempt to conceal the proud, full curves that remained unmistakable beneath her silk nightgown. Unfortunately, the gesture was futile and only added to her intriguing allure.
Li Chen did not hurry to approach her. Instead, he walked over to a carved wooden chair in the corner and sat down, then picked up the exquisite teapot on the table and poured himself a cup of flower tea that was still warm.
He also picked up a small pastry and put it into his mouth, his manner so composed that he seemed to be the master of the room.
He looked up at Mikhailovna, who remained tense and guarded, and said evenly, "There's no need to be so frightened, madam. If I truly wanted to do something to you, would you have the strength to resist?"
Seeing that he apparently had no intention of immediately forcing himself on her, Mikhailovna relaxed a fraction, but her expression remained cold and her tone accusatory. "Who exactly