Eva Miller obediently sat down, and Oliver Johnson held a hairdryer in one hand, his slender fingers entwined in her smooth, jet-black long hair.
His movements were gentle and soft, and the corners of Eva Miller's mouth gradually lifted.
Oliver Johnson's gentle side was not often seen in bed, but usually, he remained that polite and courteous gentleman.
To be honest, she was very puzzled as to which Oliver was his true self, but regardless of which one it was, she was inexplicably and wholeheartedly in love with him.
After drying her hair, Eva Miller was just about to get up, but he wrapped his arms around her body.
His thin lips, carrying a warm breath, approached her, and without a moment's hesitation, she kissed him.
He slipped off her robe, and once more, they were swept into a passionate whirlwind.
Afterwards, he held her in his arms, inhaling the pleasant fragrance of her hair.
"Do you regret it?" his voice came from above her head.
She simply shook her head.
