Caressing her smooth, silk-stockinged legs, Zhao Dong froze.
RIIIP!
With a low cry from Song Qingwan, Zhao Dong tore through her thin stockings...
Song Qingwan closed her eyes, her face flushing with embarrassment. Biting her lip, she said in a trembling voice, "Zhao Dong, can you... can you be a little gentler?"
A flame burned in Zhao Dong's eyes. He said no more, poised and ready to thrust forward.
At that very moment, a single tear slid from the corner of Song Qingwan's eye.
Zhao Dong's heart lurched. Looking at the woman before him, he asked softly, "What's wrong?"
Song Qingwan closed her eyes, choking back a sob. "Nothing... I... I don't know why I'm like this..."
Zhao Dong fell silent. The volcanic desire that had erupted in him just moments ago vanished completely.
Ultimately, she had been drinking, and on top of that, Zhang Xingze's provocation had driven her to do this—to offer herself to him. But... her emotions were clearly unstable right now.
