The man's deep voice was stimulating Jiang Ruan's central nervous system. Her limbs curled up, and her small hand gently slid down along his collar, resting on his chest.
"How much do you desire?"
Through the darkness, she looked at him, the corner of her lips curling up flirtatiously.
When in the dark, one's senses could be magnified several times, particularly when a man and woman were alone in such a confined space, it always induced a titillating heat.
Almost instantly, she felt the hand around her waist tighten noticeably.
She was leaning tightly against his evenly distributed, muscular chest.
It felt somewhat scorching.
"Kid, this is a public lounge, could you stop tempting me?"
Fu Chi's voice was slow, husky yet gentle.
It echoed in her ears.
These past days had felt like centuries to him, every moment torturously tense.
Jiang Ruan laughed.
She raised her hand and pinched the man's earlobe: "Why did you come back a day earlier?"
