He was kissing her, he was actually kissing her, he even dared to kiss her.
Chi Huan felt like she was going crazy.
She was so delicate that the man easily confined her in his embrace, his arms and chest like a wall of bronze and iron, causing her struggles to be in vain.
Mo Shiqian kissed her lips, he truly had no skill, only following his heart's desire and the instinct that men are born with, wishing he could devour those sweet, soft lips.
His hands, untaught, found their way inside her clothes, searching for the softness he'd longed to grasp since the last time he saw it.
She was more fragrant than he had imagined, and even softer, soft as if boneless.
If kissing her was just a momentary bewitchment, then after he kissed her, he was completely immersed in it.
Chi Huan felt no more than a lamb to the slaughter under his hands, and she had never felt the physical disparity between a man and a woman so terrifyingly clear.
