Qiao Yin was already gasping for air from his kisses, her brain had stopped thinking.
She didn't understand why Lu Lingche, who had divorced her, was even more desperate and eager than when they were married.
He was like a man who had been parched from walking in the desert for a long time, suddenly found water, and drank recklessly as if his life depended on it.
But when he pressed her into the bed, he abruptly stopped.
In hazy confusion, Qiao Yin looked at him and heard him whispering to her, "Are you physically okay? Have you recovered?"
It took her a while to realise what he was asking, "I've been resting for over a month, I'm fine now."
"Really? You're not lying to me?"
"Really."
He still had a bit of humanity left in him to worry about her health.
That thought comforted her slightly.
His kiss fell on her again, bringing the scorching warmth and his unique scent, which completely enveloped Qiao Yin.
Outside the window, the storm was still raging.
