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... hand on Pei Zhen’s waist, the latter had immediately turned around to glare at him.
It was natural for Fu Sichen to lean forward slightly when he embraced someone. As Pei Zhen turned around, it closed the physical distance between them even further.
Gentle, soft and dry lips were brushing against his face—very lightly, very subtly, barely-there.
But Fu Sichen felt as though his heart was set on fire, burning him and parching his mouth and tongue, arousing and waking him inside. ...
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