The man's faint scent of body wash lingered at the tip of Wen Qian's nose, making her feel strangely self-conscious.
She struggled slightly on instinct. The man seemed to sense her movement and immediately lifted his head, staring at her with eyes as deep as an abyss.
In that instant, Wen Qian felt a rush of heat to her nose. Flustered, she quickly averted her gaze. But her hand, as if with a mind of its own, inexplicably gave his abs—firm as a stone slab—a squeeze.
They were firm yet springy to the touch. A look of pleasant surprise crossed Wen Qian's face, and she couldn't help but marvel to herself, 'They feel so good!'
"You can't just touch that..."
The man hissed and gently took hold of Wen Qian's wrist. He rested his chin on her shoulder, panting softly.
Wen Qian clicked her tongue, feigning ignorance, and reached out with her other hand to poke his chest a couple of times.
