Yan Qingsi was not used to letting Yue Tingfeng take charge. She did not like to be pinned underneath somebody.
Yue Tingfeng's face was a sight to behold, though, Yan Qingsi could not quite make it out clearly under dim lighting.
Pinching Yue Tingfeng's chin, Yan Qingsi lowered her head and planted a kiss on his lips.
Yue Tingfeng instantly wrapped her in his embrace. He was no longer bothered when he was the one being kissed; it was not the first time they had experienced role-reversals—he had gotten used to it. He no longer cared anymore as long as the outcome was the same—he got to kiss her.
He was no longer as nitpicky; getting kissed was always better than not kissing at all.
It was true when they say that once you've been tortured for so long, any form of kindness feels like a godsend.
If anyone found out the great Mr. Yue was begging for scraps like that, he would lose every last bit of dignity.
