Ning Li was pressed against the door by him, unable to break free.
The hot temperature came through the thin layer of their clothes, and the man's hot breath fell, mixed with the cold and ascetic smell of cedar, entwining a vague and lingering ambiguity.
His voice was so soft that only she could hear it, with a fervent and unconcealed longing.
Her slim back was pressed against the slightly cold and heavy door, but her slender waist was still held in place with the palm of his hand. It spread out in an incredibly seductive arc, forcing her to be close to him.
"Hmm? Where is she?"
The man's voice continued to come from outside, carrying a hint of confusion. He did not seem to understand. He had clearly only just left, so why was she not responding when he had come back to call on her.
Knock, knock.
He knocked on the door again.
