Qiao Qiao tried to stop Shao Jingmo from continuing to help her undress, so she reached out and held Shao Jingmo's hand. "Little Uncle, I can do it myself."
"Didn't you say that your limbs are weak and you want me to help you?" His voice was cold, and the hand holding her calf did not let go.
Qiao Qiao panicked. "I feel strong enough now. I can do it myself."
Shao Jingmo looked expressionless as if he did not hear her. His fingertips lingered on her snow-white skin, caressing it neither gently nor heavily. He repeated it a few times, without pattern, but it was impossible to ignore. And there was no next move.
Qiao Qiao bit her lip tightly. Her legs were itchy from Shao Jingmo's touch, and he had not let go. Now, not only were her legs itchy, but her heart was also itchy.
