This was a world away from the gentle suction of a moment ago, paired now with a restrictive, confining hold.

It was a powerful, oppressive deep kiss. A foreign tongue invaded, prying open the gates of her teeth to stir wantonly within her mouth before repeatedly teasing the tip of her tongue. Her mouth had never been treated this way; it produced a flood of nectar, some of which escaped the corner of her lips while some was sucked away by Frederick and elegantly swallowed.

The elegance, nobility, and mature decorum the man usually displayed were now entirely replaced by a different side—one usually hidden beneath a glacier. He tasted his "sweet fruit" with dominance, delivering his long-suppressed cravings entirely to this ignorant Little Bird.

Arabella's mind went blank. She was completely under Frederick's control, utterly defenseless. A tingling numbness spread from her tongue to her muscles and into her heart, leaving her intoxicated. The "marshmallow" that had lacked a flavor earlier now had a distinct taste: the taste of Frederick.

She was pressed flat against the sofa, Frederick's broad shoulders forming an impenetrable wall that trapped her. She let out muffled whimpers as she was kissed, her dazed eyes half-open. In her line of sight, the taxidermy animal heads mounted on the far wall seemed to be staring blankly at her.

Terrified, she closed her eyes and let out a soft moan. The sound nearly made Frederick explode, and he bit down hard on her lip.

Through the slightly ajar glass door came the sounds of the animals playing happily on the lawn. The warm afternoon sun cast a golden ribbon across the dark walnut floor. Inside the study, the sound of the kiss was heavy, punctuated by the girl's soft whimpers and the man's ragged breathing.

Only when Arabella was completely breathless did Frederick pull back half an inch, his scorching breath fanning across her face.

"Poor thing, was that too heavy? Did you like it?" Frederick traced her wet lips with doting affection, his voice exceptionally deep after the kiss.

Arabella was clutching Frederick's cashmere sweater so tightly she nearly tore it, her fingers digging through the soft wool fibers. Her lips were a vibrant scarlet, making her look even more endearing. "A little," she murmured, "but it's okay... I liked it very much!"

Her honesty was too adorable. He kissed the center of her lip again and stroked her cheek. "Honest good girl. You must tell me whenever you like something from now on, alright?"

Next time, it would be heavier.

He would test her, gently and imperceptibly, increasing the weight and intensity bit by bit.

"...I liked it so so much!" Arabella nodded emphatically, her cheeks flushed a bright red.

So, kissing was this comfortable!

She hugged Frederick, noting that his heart was also beating quite fast. For reasons she couldn't explain, she felt incredibly excited, pressing the top of her head against the spot where his heart thumped.

"Don't squirm. Sit still." Frederick patted her head. He was no longer acting the gentleman; he was "exploding" from the kiss and was reluctant to let his Little Bird discover his predicament.

Arabella didn't listen and continued to wiggle. Inadvertently, she brushed against a rigid, prominent mass that was impossible to ignore.

A rock-hard baguette?

She wasn't an ignorant child; she understood perfectly well. She froze instantly, her lips pressed tight and her eyes wide as she stared at Frederick.

Frederick maintained his composure, explaining unhurriedly, "I apologize, Birdie. This is a normal reaction for a healthy male. After all, we just kissed. If you don't quite understand this reaction, I'm willing to explain it from the beginning—actually, I forgot to ask something very serious. How old are you?"

It was a sanctimonious question to ask now. If she were only eighteen or nineteen, he would have to spend three days and nights in the confessional.

Arabella blurted out, "I'm already twenty-five! I can definitely kiss." She told him not to worry.

Frederick studied her with a smile, not quite believing her. "Is that so? Twenty-five?"

She looked incredibly young, and her demeanor was quite girlish. He had guessed she had just turned twenty. He hadn't expected twenty-five. Then again, the age of Asian women was always a mystery. If it were true, there was only a four-year age gap between them—a very compatible match.

This was an unexpected joy.

Arabella pouted unhappily; she hadn't forgotten everything. "Of course! I remember that much. And I know what that is; you don't need to tell me."

"Oh? What is it then? You tell me." Frederick was all ears.

Arabella smirked mischievously. She leaned in and whispered into his ear like a chirping sparrow, "It's a Big Baguette about to explode!"

".........?"

Frederick's muscles stiffened, though he kept his gentle smile. "Birdie... what is a 'baguette'?"

Arabella doubled over with laughter, rolling around in Frederick's arms. She laughed at how her 'Daddy' could be so clueless. Frederick's expression turned somber as he watched her laugh herself into a heap. Once she had her fill, she leaned back into his ear and whispered mysteriously, "It's your wi*ner!"

Seeing his face darken further, she couldn't stop herself from laughing again. "It's your big c*ck)!"

"....................."

It took Frederick a full ten seconds to recover from the shock.

These were not elegant words.

His Little Bird was supposed to be a Lady.

Arabella poked his chest playfully. "Frederick, do you want to have s*x with me?"

Frederick's Adam's apple bobbed. He placed his hands on her shoulders to make her sit up straight. Towering over her, he looked down with a warm, heavy gaze. "Baby, your suggestion doesn't sound bad."

He certainly wanted to devour her; she was being "damn sexy" at that moment. But he had more important matters to address first.

Arabella didn't notice the shift in the atmosphere at all. She refused to sit still, grinning triumphantly. "I knew it! You just want to sleep with me because you like me, don't you?"

He did like her.

In the next second, Frederick landed a sharp smack across her soft, bouncy bottom. His dark blue eyes looked at her with a chilling coldness. "Be serious, Birdie. Who taught you those words?"

The blow wasn't heavy, but it certainly wasn't light. It wasn't play; it carried the weight of a lesson.

Arabella immediately stopped moving. She blinked in confusion, stunned by the sheer aura of authority radiating from the man.