After their intimate encounter, both were drenched in sweat. Wei Anning shyly nestled in Leng Youchen's arms, not daring to look at him. Had she been too forward just now? Would he think her immodest?
Leng Youchen extended a finger to gently push her damp hair behind her ear, then bent his head to kiss her forehead. As his gaze fell upon her, he saw her pretty face flushed, her chest rising and falling with her slight panting breaths.
His eyes deepened with desire, wanting her again.
He leaned in, his head buried in her chest, "Another round?"
Wei Anning quickly placed her hands on his head, pushing him away, "No, too tired."
The man's head playfully turned in mid-air before he propped himself back on her. Wei Anning blushed deeply. He truly had a nursing fetish—sometimes, upon waking up in the morning, he'd either be nestled against her chest, his face buried between softness, or with one hand cupping each side. He was never really well-behaved.