In an instant, Lin Wanqin's face flushed crimson, spreading down to her neck. She hurriedly said, "Ye... Luo, don't, this isn't the place..."
"Don't worry so much, no one will find out, and I've already said, you are my woman, think of that apartment as my betrothal gift to you, you don't need to overthink it."
Upon hearing the word 'betrothal gift', Lin Wanqin's face turned even redder, and she whispered, "We really aren't suitable."
"In my eyes, there's no such thing as suitable or not. As long as I, Ye Luo, have decided, then it is suitable, and since you are my first woman, I won't give up on you. As for Ling Qingya, don't concern yourself too much with her."
Ye Luo rested his head on Lin Wanqin's fragrant shoulder, intoxicated by the gentle scent wafting from her hair.
Lin Wanqin, on the other hand, turned even more crimson from Ye Luo's intimacy, trying to wriggle out of his embrace, unable to free herself from his arms, her eyes brimming with shyness.