"Naughty!"
Diwu Ming giggled, her slender fingers tapping Yang Fan's forehead.
"These little tricks won't work on Sister Ming. You only have a chance to prove your so-called strength in bed if you can really make me feel powerful and domineering."
Yang Fan was being teased again.
And it was an outright, blatant tease.
In Diwu Ming's eyes, it seemed like he was the tender and adorable little girl.
Yang Fan switched his glass to his left hand, and as he offered it out, his right hand firmly grasped Diwu Ming's slim waist, pulling her into his embrace, "Sister Ming, is this what you meant?"
Instead of feeling shy or resisting the sudden move, Diwu Ming pressed her soft, full bosom against Yang Fan's chest, not just once, but twice.