Mo Jingshen, Don't Tug on My Nightgown

Ji Nuan had never been able to control this man, and right now, it seemed like Mo Jingshen was beginning to lose his composure.

How on earth did she manage to provoke him tonight?

Right before he could steal the remainder of her air, Ji Nuan bit him heavily.

She had been forceful, and the wound bled slightly. She tasted the salty, copper-like taste of blood.

The man withdrew his tongue, but his lips remained pressed against her lips. Their breaths mingled together.