Yelu Yan tucked the blanket around Li Xianyun, looking down at her from above with a gentle voice like water, "Are you cold?"
With her little face flushed red, Li Xianyun obediently shook her head, yet her beautiful eyes dared not meet his gaze.
Such a pitiful and delicate appearance inevitably evoked sinful thoughts.
Yelu Yan straightened up, kicked off his wooden clogs, pulled down the bed curtain, and kneeled on the bed. In just a few moments, he had removed his own clothes, gently lifted the quilt, and slid in, wrapping his arms around Li Xianyun and pressing her beneath him, his body smooth and soft.
The man's chest was as hard as iron, while the woman's chest was soft and tender, and they pressed tightly together, changing shape.
Li Xianyun felt him, burning hot, imbued with vigorous strength.
Awaiting a cataclysmic release, sudden and clearing.
Li Xianyun's long lashes fluttered lightly, her eyes brimming with indescribable charm and tenderness.