The temple messenger carried the faint scent of mint and lemon. His slender frame was leaned back in a plush chair, and Yu Zhizhi quickly snuggled into his embrace.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her ears were practically burning red.
Her fingertips slowly undid his buttons, and she found the Cat Clan youth offered no resistance. His hands rested on the chair's armrests, making no move to cross any lines.
It took a great deal of effort from Yu Zhizhi before he finally showed some reaction.
Through the white mask, she couldn't see the emotion on his face. Yu Zhizhi buried her face in his chest, a trace of shyness in her heart as she slowly rose and fell with his breathing.
'It's like...'
'I'm in complete control.'
