This extreme intimacy left Xie Wanqing somewhat at a loss.
Her heart was both alarmed and chaotic.
She didn't know how to react, only allowing herself to be acted upon by the person above her.
The moment the pain came, she regained some sense, her slender fingers suddenly tightening, gripping the bedding beneath her.
Soon her wrist was grasped again, Pei Yuqing's fingers squeezing in one by one.
Their fingers intertwined, lips constantly pressed together.
He was not at all rushed, so gentle he seemed not to be under any influence of medicine.
He was like unveiling a vintage wine that had been waiting for a long time, giving all the patience to you, savoring it sip by sip.
Only the thoroughly reddened eyes could prove he was not as effortless as he appeared.
How could Xie Wanqing, being the person involved, not feel this awkward restraint; unsure whether to be shy or touched, her body felt ablaze, more like the one who had been drugged.
