Li Xianyun's clothes were disheveled, her lipstick blurred around her lips, her hair loose, and her entire being radiated an intense sense of fragmentation.
It was a fragmentation that was heart-stirringly beautiful, making one want to become even wilder.
Yelu Yan fiercely captured Li Xianyun's lips, his mouth entwining with hers passionately, his grip on her slender wrists released as both his hands got busy, showing no signs of stopping.
Li Xianyun felt her clothes slip from her shoulders, and her pale little hands helplessly clung to Yelu Yan's sturdy arms.
Those hard muscles were like stone, filled with distinctly masculine tension.
Yelu Yan kissed downward, burying his head in her chest.
Li Xianyun couldn't do anything but helplessly grip his head, leaving him to do as he pleased.
She didn't know how much time had passed when she suddenly opened her eyes.
Yelu Yan's hand had somehow made its way to the root of her leg.