Fu Xing's breath caught, and a reckless impulse surged from deep within him, compelling him to pin the person beside him down.
He reached out, but his hand passed through Lin Fu's shapely body, grabbing nothing but air.
Fu Xing closed his eyes and sighed, his voice faintly hoarse with a hint of restrained breaths, as if his faintly trailing words were a hook, catching one's soul and making it flutter.
With his eyes closed, Fu Xing lay quietly beside Lin Fu, listening to the enthralling sound of her breathing. His handsome features revealed an uncharacteristic hint of heartbreaking power.
His fingertips gently caressed the air, as if savoring a past sensation of smooth, soft contact.
After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes, glanced at the time, and forced himself out of his brief lapse into indulgence, to regain his sense of rational calmness as he sat up.
