Clothes hit the floor, the black satin material emanating a soft, cold glow under the room's lighting, even the rapidly rising temperature in the room could not warm up the cold aura on its surface.
Without any awkwardness or shame, everything came together naturally. Those memories deep within Yan Qingsi came rushing out in waves.
Three years ago in a hotel, the interactions between two individuals flashed before her eyes ever so clearly.
The most intimate exchange between man and woman was, without a doubt, happening right at that moment.
Yan Qingsi held on to Yue Tingfeng. Her nails beautifully manicured, painted jet black, giving off an enchanting feel. As her nails slid across Yue Tingfeng's back, it left behind streaks of crimson marks. Her nails were sharp, her grip strong. Hints of blackish-red blood oozed.
