An Nishang was silent for a moment, then parted her red lips and took Chen Che's thumb into her mouth, gently biting his finger.
The touch of An Nishang's tongue at his fingertip made Chen Che let out a breath, a slight smile on his lips—An Nishang agreed.
If anyone else had seen this scene, their jaws would have dropped in shock; someone dared to caress the face and lips of this female demon, it was practically suicidal.
Only Chen Che knew that even the fiercest demon was also a woman, in need of loving touches.
Sometimes An Nishang actually liked his bold caresses, which carried a hint of desecration.
An Nishang's body slowly leaned forward, resting in Chen Che's arms, her stunningly beautiful face buried in Chen Che's neck, her hot breath easily perceivable on his skin.
He held her, stroking her hair, caressing her back, touching her waist.
Quietly enjoying this tenderness.
