"..." Realizing that Lu Ming was angry, Jing Yiren chuckled nervously, turned around coquettishly, and knelt on Lu Ming's lap, hooking her arms around his neck.
"No! Just this one MV, I won't shoot with him again. I was simply praising his technical skills."
Lu Ming held her delicate hips and parted her thighs.
"So, what do you think of your husband's skills?"
"..." Jing Yiren's face flushed crimson.
How could this topic be connected to that?
Lu Ming sealed her lips with his own, lightly biting as a form of punishment.
With his long arm supporting her from beneath, he teased her lightly through the layers of fabric, causing Jing Yiren to tremble uncontrollably and instinctively twist her body to evade him.
But Lu Ming's other large hand firmly held her waist, making it impossible to escape—she had no choice but to endure his punishment...
Jing Yiren had thought it was merely the shooting of an MV.
