Wei Anning felt a pair of hands stroking her body over and over again, the burning heat from the palms made her increasingly uncomfortable. Her cheeks flushed, her breath almost catching fire.
"Leng Youchen... Leng Youchen..." Her small hand grabbed the man's sleeve, whining in discomfort.
It was too uncomfortable, like tens of thousands of ants crawling in her veins, hot and itchy.
Leng Yanbo's shirt was in disarray, revealing a large swathe of honey-colored skin. Years of fitness had made his muscles firm. His eyes reddened as he looked at her, "Anjing, you are so beautiful, you finally belong to me again."
In her muddled state, Wei Anning heard the name Anjing, instinctively resisting, "I'm not Wei Anjing, I am Wei Anning, Wei Anning..."
Her voice was fragmented and intermittent, and Leng Yanbo did not hear her clearly.
But at this moment, what she said did not matter. What mattered was that he was about to possess her, they were about to become one.
