Ye Feimo was cold-blooded, and this trait extended to his intimate encounters. With Wen Nuan in his arms, pressing her lips to his without any finesse, he wanted nothing more than to sweep her away and onto the ground.
The women by his side always knew better than to touch his taboos.
The moment her hand made contact, she let go, as if she had anticipated that he would push her away. Her soft little hand caught his, fingers intertwining.
Ye Feimo's movement to push her away paused slightly.
Wen Nuan was kissing his lips, which unlike him, were not so icy cold but rather, soft and warm. It was her first time taking the initiative to kiss someone, and she was extremely nervous, her heart pounding like thunder, her hand gripping his more tightly.