Amelia Clarke still kept her head down fiddling with his fingers, an apologetic tone in her voice, "Owen, I'm sorry for causing you trouble."
She sat in Owen Moreland's lap but still was slightly shorter than him.
Owen Moreland slightly bowed his head to look down at the girl in his arms who liked to keep everything bottled up inside; he raised his hand to pick up her sharp and thin chin, bending down to kiss her lips.
Amelia Clarke's lips were of the classic M shape, clearly defined without the need for makeup, with distinct angular lines, a small and round cupid's bow, a peach-like hue, and corners that slightly tilted upwards, naturally radiating joy, looking extremely delicate and pretty.
The feel of them seemed to carry a hint of sweetness.
Owen Moreland captured her cupid's bow and gently sucked on it, his breath gradually growing hot.
After a long while.
He let her go, their noses and foreheads touching, breathing mingled with each other's.
