"Of course."
Leng Zimo's large hand gently supported her slender waist, a curve he was deeply familiar with. Her back was beautiful, and when she stood straight, there was a lovely shallow dip at the spine, with two beautiful dimples at the tailbone.
His fingers brushed against the dimples on her right side through the thin dress, and Leng Zimo whispered in her ear, "Apart from my mother, you are the woman who loves me the most in this world."
His fingers, still warm through the dress, almost made her tremble.
His voice, when speaking Chinese, had a melodic tone, a baritone that sounded as moving as the most enchanting cello, each word captivating the listener's heart.
His breath hovered by her ear, grazing her skin, disappearing into her hair, and as he spoke, his lips inadvertently brushed against the contour of her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine.
Luo Xiaoqian's heartbeat accelerated unnaturally.
"Tell me, what's your last name, and mine, what is it?"
