Tender kisses peppered her brow and eyes, then her cheeks, and finally settled on her lips in a soft caress.
The rain outside seemed to have lightened, its streams slowly tracing paths down the glass. The sound was a blur, almost inaudible, yet it felt as if the rain were falling right on them, drenching and melting their very hearts.
In the narrow, dimly lit space, intimacy blossomed.
Jiang Qingli couldn't remember how they had gone from talking to kissing, nor how long it had lasted. By the time she came to her senses, he was holding her on his lap. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and a thin film of moisture veiled her eyes.
Her neck was a little sore from holding her head up, so Jiang Qingli gave Xie Youchen a gentle push to put some distance between them.
She didn't dare to look at Xie Youchen. Her fingers clutched the lapel of his suit as she rested her forehead against his shoulder.
No sooner had her head dipped than he was cupping her chin and lifting it back up.
