Due to the continuous pushing and kneading of her hands, Qiao Mo gradually slid a few inches from his hips.
When she realized, she sat back up again.
This happened twice, and the cushion placed on his hips inadvertently fell to the ground without making a sound.
Her small hands continued to knead the bruises on his body, now swollen and red, starkly contrasting with her pale white arms.
With her sitting again, Fu Nancheng's face turned tense.
Annoyingly, this damn woman wouldn't sit still and kept moving back and forth!
Making him feel closely connected one moment and distant the next.
Up high one moment, gently lifting the next…
As if deliberately provoking, through the thin layer of his clothes, teasing him until his heart itched unbearably.
In fact, this couldn't be blamed on Qiao Mo.
