Tang Li felt herself being pulled into chaos.
The pressure grinding on her lips didn't seem feigned.
Song Baiyan embraced her, pressing her body close to his, with one hand on her back, through the sweater, unable to feel the warmth of his palm, yet still making Tang Li feel like she was in deep water and fierce fire.
Her right hand, gripping the man's shoulder, was firmly held by Song Baiyan.
The man's thumb rubbed against the skin of her inner wrist.
Tang Li clearly felt the calluses on Song Baiyan's palm, not finding them rough or irritating, but rather a source of reassuring warmth.
The enveloping kiss, without deepening, was enough to make her shiver.
Her palms were already sweating.
Tang Li tried to respond.
Then, her cheeks were cupped, and the pressure between the lips slightly increased.
Such kisses were start-and-stop, just like Song Baiyan's impression on people—calm, steady, seemingly always in control, yet sinking one deeply into it.
