Lorraine Hughes was beckoning him, like some kind of enchantment.
At this moment, even if ahead lay a mountain of knives and a sea of fire, he would willingly step forward.
Nathan Bolton walked to the bedside and placed the milk on the nightstand, "Drink it while it's hot."
At the same moment, the seated Lorraine Hughes suddenly stood up.
Half-kneeling, she hooked her arms around his neck and kissed his chin.
Slowly moving upward, she bit his lips.
Like a little sun in winter, warm and bright, stirring his wicked thoughts.
He pulled her into his arms, taking the lead, deepening the kiss.
Both fell onto the bed, kissing each other passionately.
Finally, they parted, lying on the blanket, his hand still holding hers.
Lorraine's breath was still rapid, and her voice softened a bit, "What a coincidence, I'm also learning how to capture my boyfriend's heart."
"You don't need to learn."
"Ah?"
"My heart won't run away, even if you knead it repeatedly."
"..." Such a tease.
