Shi Mei winced in pain, letting out an "ow."
Those little hands, clutching his shirt at the chest, seemed to press down urgently and clumsily, trying to push her tongue directly into his mouth.
Shi Lingyan immediately lifted his hand, his eyebrows tightly furrowed.
Shi Mei's head was pushed away without any resistance.
But just as they separated, that soft and dexterous little tongue, perhaps by coincidence, grazed his upper palate as if it had a tiny hook, lightly tickling his heart.
The youngster's movements were clumsy, yet indescribably familiar.
There had been a time when he and another woman, on a different bed, tumbled together, and she too would make such small gestures inadvertently.
It was almost an instinctual habit.
Even Tang Wu was unaware of this little quirk until he mentioned it casually one day, and she had an epiphany.
