The lingering kiss ended, and she was directly lifted out of the water by Harry Hunter.
Isabella Weaver hastily pulled a towel to cover herself: "You go out, I haven't rinsed off yet."
Harry put her down, suddenly turned off the light, twisted open the shower, and said in a low voice: "I'll rinse you off."
In the darkness, one's senses become extraordinarily sharp, and Isabella felt as if even the water seemed to become a part of Harry, fervent and gentle.
After only two minutes of rinsing, she was carried back to the bedroom by Harry.
The lights had long been turned off by him, heart-shaped candles were arranged on the floor, and the bed was covered with rose petals. The man beside her was already scaldingly hot, yet still restrained and tender.
Wrapped in a large bath towel, Isabella's fingers stroked Harry's chin back and forth, a shy and sweet smile on her face: "When did you learn to be romantic?"
