Which Sister Were You Calling?

Shen Qingling was gently pushed into the room by Nan Zhen.

The door softly closed behind him. A thin veil covered Shen Qingling's eyes, but he was not completely unable to see.

The light before him became hazy and suggestive, giving everything a faintly discernible quality. He could vaguely make out two graceful figures.

The heating was on in the room, and the air carried an alluring blend of expensive perfume and some special incense.

Shen Qingling asked in confusion, "What are my sisters doing?"

Nan Zhen lightly pressed a finger to his lips. "Shh."

Her fragrant breath brushed past his ear, and Shen Qingling felt a little hot.

Sheng Mo grabbed his collar and pulled him forward. Carried by that irresistible force, Shen Qingling staggered a step forward until his nose was nearly touching Sheng Mo's.

Her familiar, distinctive scent filled his nose. She was clearly right in front of him, within reach, yet the thin veil over his eyes and the restraints around his wrists made her seem impossibly distant.

That scent stirred up the wild and intimate memories between them, but at this moment, it became a silent torment.

Sheng Mo caressed his face and curled her lips. "Did you miss me?"

The question was a trap. Nan Zhen was right beside him, and he did not dare answer, or the flames of war would surely reignite.

Sure enough, Nan Zhen leaned in as well, her soft body pressing against his side.

The two women trapped him between them. Their warm bodies and two utterly different yet equally lethal feminine scents completely enveloped him.

"Why did you tie me up, sisters? Didn't you say you had a gift for me?"

"Which sister were you calling? Hmm?"

"That's right. We're both your sisters, so which one were you