As Baili Xia didn't know what to do next, Mu Xiaojiu suddenly reached out his large palm.
He placed his palm lightly on the back of her hand, gently turning the pages of the book together.
"You said that I lack technique, that I only care about my own pleasure and never consider your feelings."
His voice became more husky, yet more mellow.
It was like a strong liquor wafting around her ears, pouring into her heart, making her body uncontrollably hotter.
She thought that she must have had too much to drink.
Why else would she feel such a bewitching attraction to Uncle? To the sound of his voice? Why did she want to turn around and embrace him more and more?
Why is this happening? Was she really drunk?
Mu Xiaojiu still held her small hand, his gaze falling on the book, looking at the various images.
In fact, these images could not stir up even the slightest ripple in his heart.
The only thing that could stir his heart was this little girl in his arms.
