He told himself that tomorrow would be a beautiful day.
The sound of insects outside the window had disappeared at some point, and the night became exceptionally quiet. He Xing closed his eyes and listened carefully, as if he could almost hear Fu Han's heartbeat.
He turned over, and his hand landed on a soft waist. Fu Han's waist was slender and supple, hardly a handful, and it felt really good.
He Xing stretched out his long arm and pulled Fu Han into his embrace, feeling a heat rising from his abdomen and spreading to his limbs and bones.
His lips fell on the back of Fu Han's neck, and his restless hands fanned the flames. The person in his arms woke up from her sleep with a low hum, turned to face him, and took the initiative to offer her cherry lips.
He Xing was overjoyed, but his hands were efficient; in just a moment, he had removed Fu Han's silk nightgown, and he pressed himself tightly against her.
