Wen Qiao's voice at this moment sounded as if it had been moistened by water, delicate and without any intimidating power at all.
Fu Jinghen freed one hand to capture the little hand causing mischief around his waist, nuzzling his head in her shoulder nest, "Baby, I'm in pain."
This time, the discomfort was real.
However...
The man's hoarse voice combined with his pitiful words completely overwhelmed Wen Qiao's last line of defense.
The moon was exceptionally bright tonight, its clear light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling window onto the floor, while the two on the sofa hid in the dark, carving out a world that belonged solely to them.
After a while, the rustling sounds from the sofa finally ceased.
Wen Qiao nestled in Fu Jinghen's embrace, letting Fu Jinghen clean her up.
A moment later, she came back to her senses, gathered strength, and fiercely pinched Fu Jinghen's waist.
