Luo Yang finally raised his head with great difficulty, his face rubbing from her bust all the way up to her fragrant shoulder. That arduous journey featured tenderness intermingled with resilience, softness coupled with slickness; although it was through her clothes, he truly experienced it all.
Embracing her delicate body like fine jade was like lying in an endless down comforter in a dream, letting himself gallop and soar to his heart's content.
The only imperfection was that his neck was being tightly gripped by Hong Jiaxin's hands, his breath nearly cut off. On one side was boundless tenderness, on the other, a thrill close to death.
"President, I have good news for you, I will teach you a secret technique for free," he said.
His mouth was right by her ear, and without stretching his waist, his chin resting on her fragrant shoulder, he could speak softly.
