The osmanthus fragrance behind the rockery was so rich it could almost ferment into wine. Diaochan’s waist was even softer than I had imagined, and I could feel the warmth of her skin right through her sheer dress.
"If you keep this up, sir, I’ll call for help," she said with her lips, while her finger traced circles in the palm of my hand.
"Call for what? 'Help, rape'?" I leaned close to her earlobe. "Your adoptive father is dying for you to seduce me."
Chapter 59