However, Zhang Xiaomeng had already thoroughly kissed her.
Their lips and teeth left a fragrance, and the air still carried the romantic scent lingering from the intertwine of Zhang Xiaomeng and Murong Yu.
But now it had become the catalyst that stimulated the two to fall into love.
Zhang Xiaomeng's lips worked their way from her pretty face down to that pure, flawless, and beautiful neck.
It seemed as if the proud beauty, akin to a swan, trembled once again.
Zhang Xiaomeng's An Lushan-like claws came to rest upon Murong Fenghua's full and perky bosom.
Feeling the fullness and softness, like marshmallows, bouncy to the touch, the warmth seeped through his palm, and he could even sense Murong Fenghua's heartbeat.
"Wu wu wu." Tears were about to fall from Murong Fenghua's eyes.
By her side was Murong Yu, her little niece.
Her heart was torn between consent and rejection, too ambiguous to decide.
"Xiaomeng, Xiaomeng."
"Wu wu wu."
