The youth had just finished his bath, his black hair still dripping wet. Sparkling droplets trailed down his porcelain-like fair cheeks, flowed slowly over his graceful long neck, and finally disappeared into his beautiful, well-defined collarbones.
He wore a pajama top—it was his.
Bo Tingshen's gaze gradually shifted onto her, and then he couldn't move at all.
The slender figure of the boy and his delicate waist were wrapped in his clothes, the hem revealing his snow-white, jade-like long legs, shyly rubbing against each other.
His arms were in his clothes, his legs were in his clothes, his whole body was in his clothes, just like… he was intimately snuggling into his embrace, inside his body.
Bo Tingshen's Adam's apple bobbed heavily, his throat dry and a bit irritable, so irritated he felt like destroying something.
He seemed just right.
