Everything around him seemed to recede, and he seemed to have completely forgotten himself, as well as the environment he was currently in. It was solely through his will that his slender fingers gently climbed her cheeks, slowly moving along her delicate chin. Ling Yinuo had only lightly traced her lips and the corners of her eyes and hadn't applied makeup to her entire face. At this moment, her face was clean and petite, resembling smooth, fine milk–soft, fragrant, and silky. His fingertips lingered, as if indulging in a fine wine that one could never get enough of.
"A French long kiss, a French long kiss—"
