"Whimper, whimper, whimper..."
Early in the morning, within the boudoir, Lin Fan watched as Zhao Jiaqi writhed incessantly below him.
Her slender and petite frame might have lacked explosive curves, but that delicate waist and those long legs were like lethal weapons.
At that moment, her legs tightly clasped Lin Fan's waist, surrendering to his pounding as if he were about to pierce through her muddy Soul-snatching Cave; amidst her murmurs, she continually swallowed, seemingly striving to drain every essence of Lin Fan.
Grasping her peach-like perky buttocks until Lin Fan felt a release throughout his body, the heat wave filling her graceful form, he then lay powerlessly upon her. Zhao Jiaqi, however, clung tightly around Lin Fan's neck, unwilling to part for a long time.
"How is it, still not satisfied?"
