In the office, President Tian was leaning back in his office chair, legs sprawled across his desk, a satisfied smirk on his face as he puffed on a cigarette.
Brother Seven had already gone to beat up Zhang Xian and wouldn't fail to drag Mo Shaoyun back. He was already fantasizing about the wonderful scene of Mo Shaoyun stripped down and lying on the bed.
As the boss of a company and with a substantial worth, he had flirted with many women before. But he had never touched or even seen a beauty like Mo Shaoyun, a woman who was rarely seen on earth, let alone in heaven. Her perfect face, exquisitely proportionate figure, which one might call the golden ratio, were undeniably perfect, like a piece of flawless art, unmatched in her beauty.
Every time he thought about Mo Shaoyun's seductive figure, he felt a certain heat rising within him, hard to curb.