That night, Ye Yansheng had his little wife thoroughly tamed—she no longer dared to tease him casually. When he carried the limp, boneless Song Guanyu to bathe, her appearance aroused him so much that he couldn't hold back. They ended up in the bathroom, the sound of water running, the whole room filled with an intimate atmosphere, steam rising, the melody of flowing water delightful. The condoms Song Guanyu had placed in the bathroom indeed came in handy. Seated on the white porcelain sink, Song Guanyu's eyes were sparkling, ripples of water swirling in her gaze. The bun Ye Yansheng had fixed earlier was now loose and messy, a few strands of slightly curly hair sticking damply to her cheeks. The lingering flush on her face made her look exceptionally moist, thoroughly ripe inside and out, like a peach on a tree, plump and sweet, waiting to be picked, ready to burst with sweet juice at a bite.
A pair of calloused palms cupped her face. Song Guanyu half-lidded her eyes, leaning weakly into his hands. Ye Yansheng's heart trembled at the sight. He exerted a little force, lifting her soft face, leaned in, rubbed his nose against hers, then kissed the tip of her nose, beaded with sweat. Song Guanyu lowered her lashes, letting him kiss her. They kissed neck to neck; after a deep kiss, Ye Yansheng touched his forehead to hers. The excessive heat from his body enveloped her entirely. Her eyes closed, breath quick, her curled lashes fluttering in his sight. She looked even more stirring. He didn't close his eyes but watched her, waiting for her breath to steady, then couldn't resist kissing her again, gently catching her lower lip. He brushed against her lips subtly, retreating and advancing, and she, worn down by his teasing, chased after his kiss. Their lips sealed perfectly, tracing each other's lip lines tenderly, without opening their mouths. Sometimes, tender kisses made the heart race even more.
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