The light outside the window gradually brightened, and Rosie Scott felt like she couldn't hide her flushed cheeks in the darkness.
Her face was burning red, her neck a shade of pink.
Charles Anderson just looked at the little beauty beneath him, who made soft sounds for a long time.
Her voice was like a lazy cat in winter, making one's heart itch. Charles prided himself on his self-control, but seeing her face moist like peach blossoms, his dark eyes couldn't stay clear.
Seeing that she wanted to gloss over things with her coquettishness, that really was... playing right into his hands.
The man lowered his gaze, seeing her supple fingers tracing circles on his chest.
Through the fabric of his shirt, the trembling beat of his heart could be felt.
Rosie Scott felt his strong heartbeat, and her autumn-water-like eyes met his unclear dark eyes.
The man captured her playful hand, his voice a bit hoarse.
