Was there anything more embarrassing than this?

His pride was shattered. He even began to doubt his virility. Despair etched on his face, he snuck a glance at Qiao Li.

It’s over, he thought. She won't like me anymore. He desperately wished she was blackout drunk, so she could forget all of this.

Qiao Li, still dazed from the alcohol, stared blankly at the sticky residue on her hand, her fingers flexing, drawing out thin strands.

Feng Yi's face flushed crimson. He shot out of bed, grabbed tissues from the nightstand, knelt before Qiao Li, and took her hand, meticulously wiping it clean.

His hands trembled as he gently cleaned her fingers and the back of her hand, his head bowed in shame, his face burning.

He was contemplating fleeing when Qiao Li pulled two tissues from his grasp and reached between his legs, wiping away the sticky residue. He froze, his breath shallowing.

The tissue felt soft against his inner thigh. Her touch was light, yet it tickled, causing his inner thigh muscles to involuntarily tense.

With each wipe, his thigh muscles tightened and relaxed. It looked utterly endearing.

When she finished, he let out a breath.

Qiao Li heard it and chuckled softly. She tilted her head, met his gaze for a second, then looked back down at his groin, a questioning look on her face.

Feng Yi's mind snapped back to the mortifying moment, then slid forward to the sensation of her fingertip grazing his glans.

His breath hitched, a shiver running up his spine. He felt himself hardening again.

He was like a perpetually aroused s3x fiend. How could he get hard so easily?

He chanted internally, don't get hard, don't get hard, but his body defied him, rapidly stiffening.

Qiao Li watched him in surprise. He instinctively reached down to press his groin.

"Hiss—"

He hadn't controlled his strength and sucked in a sharp breath of pain. As soon as he removed his hand, he sprang back up.

Qiao Li had never met a man so adorably foolish. His infectious energy lightened her mood, and she draped an arm over his shoulder, rewarding him with a kiss.

Caught off guard, Feng Yi leaned back, and they tumbled together.

He felt the weight of her soft body, light and yielding, her full, buoyant bre4sts pressing against his chest.

Like a spark thrown onto dry tinder, all rational thought vanished, leaving only primal urges.

Emboldened, he found her smooth skin and let his hand wander instinctively.

When Qiao Li didn't resist, he traced the curve of her back downwards.

Her bvttocks. The mere thought made his breathing deepen.

"Can I… touch them?" he rasped, his voice so hoarse he barely recognized it.

Qiao Li answered with action, her slender waist writhing against him like a serpent, her full butt0cks grinding against his palm, so slippery and smooth, like jelly, making his hand feel rough in comparison.

Her provocative movements erased any hesitation. He flipped her over, pinning her beneath him, his hands cupping her soft, smooth bvttocks. A surge of possessiveness coursed through him; he wanted to knead them roughly, yet he feared hurting her.

Qiao Li giggled at his sudden assertiveness. His grip was strong. He'd only meant to caress her, but he'd lifted her bottom off the bed.

Unsure what to do with her legs, she swung them playfully in the air, one hooking over his arm, the other landing on his chest.

Hard and warm, her foot felt like it was melting against the heat of his chest.