Yelu Yan propped one arm against the wall, trapping Li Xianyun in a cramped space with no escape.
Li Xianyun hesitated for a moment before timidly lifting her eyelids, only to see the exceedingly handsome face before her, gentle and warm with a cascading smile that made him seem nothing like the stern, indifferent man he was in public.
He was dressed in his thin nightclothes, with a wide-open collar showing his firm, bulging muscles and carrying an unrestrained wildness.
"Your wound..."
"It's nothing."
Yelu Yan said and then enveloped Li Xianyun in his arms, a delicate and sweet-scented beauty.
Li Xianyun placed her fair little hand gently against his chest, carefully avoiding his wound.
Yelu Yan pressed his head against hers, kissing her hair, earlobes, and cheeks gently grazing and softly kissing.
Li Xianyun, naturally delicate, had just bathed, her skin so soft and tender that the slightest kiss would leave a red mark.
