Mi Yao's brain rapidly became oxygen-deprived as the man pinned her in the corner. She was like a doll at his mercy, and after roughly ten minutes, he released her lips.
Feng Yueming looked at the woman in his arms, her delicate cheeks steaming with a flush of crimson, her long lashes half-closed, her breath drifting in his embrace.
"Mi Yao!" he called her hoarsely.
The woman was silent.
A trace of panic flashed through Feng Yueming's eyes. He reached out to pat her hand, "Mi Yao, wake up."
Her long lashes fluttered, and Mi Yao opened her eyes. Her clear pupils, watery, looked at him like a frightened rabbit, "Is it over?"
She asked.
Feng Yueming pressed his nose against her fragrant and delicate one, touching her bitten lip with the pad of his finger, "It's over," he said.
Feng Yueming pulled her into his arms.
