Lin Qian was carried into the next hospital room by Yin Moran.
"Hey, what are you doing, put me down... Um!"
Before Lin Qian could finish speaking, the man's breath drew close, devouring her words and breath altogether.
Imperious and frenzied, like a swift jaguar, he caught her off guard and took control.
Lin Qian was kissed until she felt dizzy and weak, her only choice was to cling to his neck with her tender arms to keep from falling.
It wasn't until the man's wandering hands sparked fires everywhere that Lin Qian, her face flushed, quickly pressed his wayward hands down.
"Moran!"
The woman's breath was erratic, her eyes misty, conveying a spring-like allure in her glance.
Her voice, tender and unconsciously enchanting, captivated the soul.
Yin Moran's eyes, like boundless deep seas, resonated with a deep, hoarse voice, "Can you feel it?"
"Hmm?" Lin Qian's head was still spinning, her voice soft and puzzled.