Leng Yu Yan pursed her lips, her slender and soft fingers gripping tightly the fabric at his waist.
Tightening and then loosening, her fingertips incessantly clutched his robe along with his movements.
Unintentionally, her fingertips rubbed back and forth at his waist, Ye Yiheng's tall and upright figure stiffened as he reached out to seize one of her restless little hands.
"Leng Yu Yan, do you know you shouldn't touch a man's waist carelessly!"
"Ah!" Leng Yu Yan quickly yanked her hand from his palm, her hands uncertainly raised, "I didn't touch!"
She didn't want to touch him at all, what was there to touch about him?
Ye Yiheng seemed to be in a good mood, the corners of his mouth turned upwards, his thin lips flushed with moisture from "nibbling" at her neck, redder than his usual pale color.
Leng Yu Yan looked up at him briefly, marveling that such a handsome man existed in the world, even more good-looking than her Father King by a degree.
