Yelu Yan had long since lost his self-restraint.
Li Xianyun had made great progress in the art of kissing.
In their initial kisses, she used to be very nervous, her lips tightly sealed, not daring to open up, and even when she did, she would silently endure his dominance.
Now she could imitate his kissing style.
He really had led her astray.
Li Xianyun took everything seriously, including kissing. Just as she was earnestly learning to kiss like Yelu Yan, he couldn't help but groan.
"My lord," Li Xianyun opened her misty eyes, looking at Yelu Yan somewhat bewilderedly.
But she quickly noticed something amiss and looked down, her little face blushing red-hot.
Yelu Yan watched her infatuatedly, took hold of her head, and kissed her lips, murmuring ambiguously, "Xianxian, you are like a little demoness who ensnares the soul; your husband might as well die on top of you."
Li Xianyun's eyes sparkled, and his words made her burn with even greater intensity.