Her fingers throbbed as the man pinched them, and Leh Ying was startled, looking at the red, congested marks on her fingertips.
"It's not done yet," she said softly, reaching out again to touch the man's belt.
Unintentionally, she touched...
Xu Jingxi's gaze suddenly darkened, and he pressed her against the glass in a deep kiss, like a release, without care for her pain, his hot, moist fingertips deliberately and unintentionally slipping under her hem, stroking her spine, holding her tight against him.
With their noses touching, the man's burning breath brushed against her cheek in wisps, her head knocking against the cold glass mirror.
Caught between hardness and heat, Leh Ying's blood seemed to reverse its flow, her trembling hands pushing against him, but his broad chest didn't budge an inch.
To not do it would be one thing, but he maliciously tormented her fragile consciousness.
"Are you playing with me?"
