Separated, Pei Muchan lay on the couch, arching her snow-white neck.
Xu Qingyan followed suit, gently kissing her neck, moving up little by little, densely packed, finally biting down on her earlobe, warm breath hitting her auricle.
Pei Muchan made a sound, suppressing it in her throat, her eyelashes fluttering repeatedly. Her body tensed in that instant, then abruptly relaxed, gasping lightly non-stop.
Her gaze was slightly hazy, narrowed into a slit, quietly watching Xu Qingyan. It seemed she had many things to say, yet not a word came out, only her gaze.
The autumn night air was humid, the dim living room shimmered with a lustrous light.
Whoosh.
The sound of the showerhead broke the silence, interrupting Xu Qingyan's thoughts. He turned his head to look back, an orange glow emanated from the bathroom, casting its light through the glass door onto the wooden floor.
She had gone to take a shower.
