Night had fallen completely.
Outside the window, Paris's nightscape spread across the glass in a wash of dazzling lights.
Inside the master bedroom, the air was hot and heavy.
Tang Song's eyes widened, his breathing rough, his back taut.
The scalp-tingling sensation lasted only a few seconds.
Yet like a high-voltage current, it shot through every nerve in his body.
Su Yu slowly straightened up.
An eerie flush colored her face, while sweat-dampened strands of hair clung to her temples.
Her amber eyes were hazy with desire.
Looking at Tang Song struggling to restrain himself, she suddenly extended her pink tongue and slowly licked her lower lip.
The movement was graceful, as though she were showing off, as though she were savoring it.
A faintly intoxicated expression rippled across that stunningly beautiful face.
Yet it carried a heart-palpitating wickedness.
Tang Song's chest rose and fell violently, his breath scorching.
He had never imagined Su Yu could be this crazy.
Noticing the look in his eyes, as though he wanted to devour her, Su Yu did not retreat.
She turned slightly, leaning languidly against the headboard as she pulled the blanket to her waist.
Her palm gently pressed against his chest.
Feeling the wild, drumlike pounding of his heart, beat after beat.
The curve of her lips lifted, thoroughly satisfied.
Though her complexion was still pale from her illness, she seemed like a blooming poppy, exuding a scorching sweetness.
" Tang Song—" Su Yu's voice was soft, but filled with competitive spirit. "I went deeper than her, didn't I?"
"—Yes." Tang Song's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice hoarse.
It was not merely physical stimulation, but an overwhelming psychological shock.
What kept replaying in his mind was the moment she bent down close to him.
Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders