Song Qinghuan was restless, struggling to wake up, but no matter what she did, she couldn't rouse herself.
She groaned impatiently, wanting to pull back, but it was as if she had been immobilized by an ancient pressure-point master and couldn't move at all.
When she was forcefully entered, Song Qinghuan felt like it was just a dream.
How had he ever been this gentle before, afraid of hurting her, painstakingly caressing and revolving inside her body, all while tenderly kissing her cheeks and the corners of her lips?
This dream was too strange, it should be just a dream, so her senses shouldn't be so intense.
She could not only distinctly smell his scent and breath but also feel the tingling sensation originating from her body, spreading from her undulating parts, all the way to the bottom of her heart.
Song Qinghuan's brow furrowed tightly, but what mattered more was how clear the feeling was. It didn't feel like a dream at all, to the extent that ignoring it was impossible.
