Fortunately, Yelu Yan still retained some sanity. While kissing Li Xianyun, he took the writing brush from her hand and hastily placed it on the inkstone desk.
With his long arms enveloping her supple waist, Yelu Yan pulled her into his embrace and sat down on the Taishi Chair behind him.
Li Xianyun was seated on one of his legs.
Because his legs were spread out, Li Xianyun's thigh was pressed firmly against something hard; she didn't need to think twice to know what it was.
It seemed as if he had been thirsty for a very long time.
On reflection, it hadn't been long at all; they had been intimate just the day before.
In the past, he had gone many years without such pleasures and had been fine, but now he couldn't wait even a single day.
As Yelu Yan kissed her, his hands were not idle, wreaking havoc upon her chest.