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... ’s obsidian eyes directly.
Stars seemed to radiate and flicker in her eyes. Yan Shao narrowed his own and, without thinking, his hand shot forth ahead of his brain, cradling the back of her head and slightly lifting his own face. His lips captured hers with precision and firmly pressed onto them.
Her lips were soft, bearing a faint coolness and a tinge of a milky scent. It reminded Yan Shao of the coconut milk pudding he used to love as a child. Similar to consuming a chilled spo ...
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