The street was abuzz with noise, and the carriage sped through the hustle.
The girl in his arms wore an innocent, fair face; a tear mole at the corner of her eye was tinged with crimson, like the dripping juice of petals.
Every intimate encounter with her husband was especially taxing for her, and each time, she'd surrender early, unable to endure for long before entering a state of bliss.
Wei Zhao, being a military general, was full of vigor. Yu Tingwan couldn't withstand it, and ordinarily, she wouldn't dare to be so reckless.
It was only out of drunkenness that she would unwittingly present herself.
Wei Zhao's Adam's apple bobbed, and his hand tightened inch by inch around her waist.
Under her tender gaze, he ground against her lips, their breaths entwining, and a dark, intimidating look flickered in Wei Zhao's eyes.
But he wasn't as frenzied as a wolf cub unable to resist devouring at once; he knew well enough that the setting was inappropriate.
