Ming Yao's gaze was hazy as she looked at the man who was close at hand, her delicate brows tightly furrowed.
Was this a dream?
In the dream, the man who was always domineering and assertive was gently kissing her.
Ming Yao nuzzled her small face into his neck, thinking that if this were only a dream, she would let the dream continue.
The morning sun shone through the gap in the curtains that had never been fully drawn, and the sleeping Ming Yao turned over only to find that she couldn't move.
It seemed like an arm was wrapped tightly around her.
She opened her heavy eyelids and looked in front of her.
What met her eyes was the solid and muscular chest of a man.
There was a moment of confusion in Ming Yao's mind; she had drunk too much last night, and even now, her temples throbbed with pain.
For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating.
She closed and then reopened her eyes, the well-defined chest of the man was still there.
Ming Yao suddenly widened her eyes.
