Standing in the kitchen with a mug of my muddy coffee, I'm replaying the last night's scene in my head. The mind-blowing kiss. The way Yiren melted into my arms, clutching onto me, her body moulded so perfectly against mine as if she's made just for me—it's a memory that won't stop tormenting me.
She strolls into the kitchen dressed to kill: a body-hugging dress in white that highlights every curve, hair perfectly styled, and lips painted a sinful, striking red. Damn. My gut tightens, and my heart pounds a little faster. It's impossible not to remember how those lips tasted, divine. How she responded to my touch. Her little moans.
I expected something to happen between us eventually as the tension was simmering at a dangerous speed, but the way she kissed me back, equally hungry and fierce, gave me more courage than I needed. She wants me as much I want her.
Watching her holding onto me as she melts into my arms is the sexiest thing I've ever experienced.
