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The morning mist was sparse, and the old house was still immersed in a piece of quiet tranquility at five o'clock in the early morning.
The flowers nearby the private residence had bloomed, their dewy petals vivid and enticing.
In the master bedroom on the second floor, the curtains tightly blocked the first ray of dawn.
Li Qiao slept restlessly, the corners of her eyes red. She turned over and bumped into the man's arms, her red lips muttering, "No more..."
After nearly a whole night of intense passion, she was exhausted, and he was satiated.
In her half-awake state, she seemed to hear a husky voice of temptation entering her ear, "Be good, one last time."
Li Qiao had heard this countless times last night, and it really had no credibility at all.
...
Time moved on to nine in the morning, Li Qiao slowly dressed and came downstairs.
When she woke up, Shang Yu wasn't in the master bedroom.
The bed was a mess, and Li Qiao couldn't bear to look at it.
