Song Qinghuan was feeling quite uneasy - Shi Yuhuan's gentleness was too overwhelming and it made her anxious.
However, she quickly succumbed to Shi Yuhuan's tenderness, like a piece of quivering ice, melting into a puddle of soft water under the warmth of his passionate French kiss.
Song Qinghuan felt that her breath was filled with a familiar scent.
That scent was so unique, so refreshing, and utterly captivating.
She felt as if she was about to suffocate.
Shi Yuhuan gently let her go. Her lips, reddened by his kisses, were scrutinized under his heated gaze, just an inch away.
Song Qinghuan bit her lip and stayed silent, her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at him, her calm exterior belying a sense of accusation, as if suggesting: This is not how you examine someone.
Shi Yuhuan curled his lip, his face adorned with a wicked smile.
He didn't utter a word, only pressed his lips against hers once again.
