Slowly, rose petals fell into his hair, accentuating the face before her that could bring disaster to a nation, making him look like a prince out of a fairy tale—handsome, perfect, as if forged by the gods.
Feng Yanyan felt a bit intoxicated.
...
After an indeterminable amount of time, Yan Nansheng finally pulled away from her.
Just as Feng Yanyan blinked, his face lowered once more, his thin lips pressing directly against her forehead, his breath also spilling over her temples.
He moved downward slowly.
Feng Yanyan became nervous, trying to push him away, but she couldn't budge him at all, as he held her tightly in his embrace.
Yan Nansheng couldn't remember how long it had been since he last touched a woman.
All he knew was that he had never felt so exhilarated before.
Until...
Feng Yanyan stretched out her hand, pushing forcefully against the chest before her, and whispered low, "Don't... let me go..."
