"Young Master Xi."
Song Yiyi called out in obsession, every time she looked at those photos, her blood boiled with the desire for Young Master Xi to be right in front of her, loving her as she loved him.
At this moment, Song Yiyi's mind was filled with Xi Yemo, all she could think of was his handsome face, and she felt parched, hugging the big-headed doll, she couldn't help but nuzzle against it.
With that nuzzle, she couldn't control herself and began to gently twist.
Thinking of the man's face, his voice, and his gaze resting lightly on her, as beautiful as the moonlight outside.
Song Yiyi let out a soft whimper from her lips, her right hand gradually slipped into her skirt.
...
"Yiyi, Yiyi."
The knocking on the door pulled Song Yiyi's soul back, her little hand trembled, immediately withdrew from the skirt, her face red with embarrassment, she quickly grabbed a tissue to wipe away.
"Yiyi."
