After a long kiss, Qiao Weiyang was panting. "Mr. Su, I can take you in, but I'm too tired. Can you let me have a good rest?"
"Don't worry, I still have this bit of self-control," Su Zhuoqian whispered in her ear.
"I'm afraid I don't." Qiao Weiyang's voice was delicate. She was already bewitched by his beauty. As soon as she closed her eyes, her mind was filled with the images of his deep and calm gaze, the distinct edges and corners of his jaw, and the distinct Adam's apple on his slender neck.
When his palm landed on her waist, she didn't reject it at all. Instead, she fantasized about those slender and strong hands tightening around her waist.
She remembered that before she met him, she was very against such intimate contact. The two lost children made it impossible for her to fantasize about sex.
But with him, her fantasies and desires were once again aroused.
Su Zhuoqian chuckled and said, "Go take a shower. I'll rest early with you."
