He didn’t know what he was thinking. Taking advantage of her deep sleep, he reached out and traced her lip line with his thumb.
Soft and cool. He poked it.
Fu You'an, disturbed by the intrusion, let out a soft murmur. Her fair, delicate cheek unconsciously rubbed against the skin of his neck. To Lu Muci, it felt as though he had been pricked by a fine needle—sensitive and searing hot.
Chapter 88