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Hmph! Pei Jue rarely hears Feng Yun praise him.
In the land of tender passions, a hero is intoxicated, and beneath his touch is soft, fragrant flesh. He couldn't restrain himself any longer, his hand reaching out, feeling her whimper, his mind slightly stirred.
"Does it still hurt?"
His voice was low and husky, his breath falling on Feng Yun's ear.
Her heartbeat quickened dramatically, her eyes cast down as she shook her head, "It doesn't hurt anymore..."
Pei Jue's dark eyes blazed as if there was a wildfire inside, he gently lifted her skirt, separating her long legs, allowing her to sit on top of him, their bodies pressing against each other through the layers of their clothes.
"How about this?"
"It hurts..."
He bent down and kissed her forehead.
"So delicate."