When Mei Qingchen softly called Su Muyao "wife," his voice was trembling and chaotic.
His body couldn't withstand such teasing at all.
He was already deeply in love with her, already filled with longing from a single kiss, and being treated like this was more than he could bear.
His body trembled involuntarily.
In his golden, stunning eyes, a shimmering, ambiguous hue spread, even blending with a blush of rouge.
It was nighttime already, the lighting inside the room was dim and misty. Mei Qingchen lay weakly on the bed, his clothes pulled down by her, exuding a broken charm, decadent and intoxicating, a picture of willing surrender.
In this state, he seemed to have been pulled down from the altar, exuding an enchanting aura, captivating the soul.
Su Muyao was causing sparks everywhere.
"Wife, don't... don't do this..."
Although he could hardly endure it, he still made a broken sound, trying to stop her.
