Jenny cupped James's face and delivered a soft kiss over his lips; she whimpered when suddenly James captured her lips and began devouring her like she was his life-force. The kiss was filled with longing—just how much they had missed each other.
When they pulled apart, Jenny was panting hard for breath, holding his shoulders. James's eyes were busy checking out her body, searching for any wounds, and then he saw it. The flimsy dress she was wearing was half torn from the sides, exposing her milky skin filled with bruises.
It looked like someone had forcefully held her, with the fingerprints that marked her skin. James's blood flared up; his body suddenly became hot. Jenny, who was busy composing herself, took note of his change in expression.
"James—James—"
"I'm going to kill that bastard," he cut her off, his voice determined. How dare he try to violate his sweet little Jenny. He was going to cut his hands off first—everything he had already planned in his head.
