When warm lips pressed against her cheek, every drop of Fu Chenlie's blood seemed to boil.
He lifted his head from the curve of her neck, staring into her eyes—dark and intense to a frightening degree, with raw desire rolling hotly beneath the surface.
The man cupped her face with his large hands and kissed her lips again.
In the room, the air thickened with intimacy.
Wen Ran, nestled in Fu Chenlie's arms, was teased to the brink of losing control by his skilled, provocative touch.
She was even struggling to discern who had drunk something they shouldn't have, and who was playing the role of the antidote in this incomplete act of passion.
As the emotions deepened, Fu Chenlie guided Wen Ran's soft, boneless hands, bringing an abrupt conclusion to an encounter that shouldn't have come so soon
Wen Ran buried her flushed face against the man's chest, her skin radiating crimson.