Slowly, as if afraid he might vanish, she reached out. Her fingertips brushed against the warm skin of his chest. The contact sent a jolt straight through her, a current of pure electricity that made her gasp.
He was so real, so solid beneath her touch. Her hand flattened, her palm pressing against him, feeling the steady thrum of his heart against her skin.
The need to touch him more was an ache, a relentless throb that matched the wetness between her thighs. Her fingers grew bolder, tracing the lines of his pectoral muscles, her thumb brushing over a flat, dusky nipple.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, her cheeks flushed a deep, shameful red. A soft, breathy moan escaped her lips, a whisper of his name. "Azhen…"
Leaning forward, her hair falling like a curtain around them, she brought her face close to his. The scent of him, his cologne, the sharp tang of alcohol, something that was purely Mo Yuzhen filled her senses, intoxicating her more than any liquor ever could.
