Mo Nanjue didn't say anything more, propping one hand beside her, breathing heavily. A flame churning in his lower abdomen felt as if it were about to burst out of his body, and he didn't even know himself how many times he had felt this intense sensation with her.
Unfortunately, this stimulating and addictive feeling first arose with her, and every time thereafter, it was with her.
He even somewhat ridiculously worried, would he ever be able to shake off this feeling in the future?
It was like the Devil's Kiss within him, once tainted, there's no escaping it.
Although he never believed, nor accepted, that he could fear, worry, or care about anything.
Last night, he had a lengthy, hazy dream, where it was hard to distinguish night from day, and there were only two people.
One was himself, and the other was her.
No matter how he tried to dispel it, he couldn't drive away her shadow in the dream.
