But when the man saw that she was awake, he put his hand into her skirt even more wantonly...
…
…
Shen Shuyi bit her lip and glared at him, "It will be heard..."
"Then Yiyi, keep your voice down." Zhao Heng was newly married, with his beautiful wife in his arms, and he was a hot-blooded man, so how could he hold back?
Shen Shuyi’s fingers grabbed his back and scolded with a smile, “You are not serious!”
The setting sun shone in, and the undulating shadows on the low couch in the study of Prince Su's mansion disappeared without a trace.
Chen Shuyi's black hair was disheveled, she was sweating profusely, a few strands of hair stuck to her cheeks, she looked charming and lovely.
Zhao Heng took a rare deep breath, leaned on her shoulder, bit her earlobe, and said in a hoarse voice:
"Leprechaun."
Shen Shuyi pushed him and panted, “You are the beast.”
"Heh." Zhao Heng chuckled, hugged her tightly in his arms, and let her lean on him.
His eyes fell on the rows of sage books. He indulged himself during the day and was really getting worse and worse. He had long thrown away the dignity of being a prince.
Zhao Heng kissed her forehead contentedly and said, "I'll take you to pick apricots tomorrow."
"I picked them for you to eat with my own hands."
"I just hope Shuyi can bring me sour plum soup every day."
"No need to see you off!" Shen Shuyi snuggled into his arms.
Zhao Heng held her face up and said, "Let's go. It's time for dinner."
He helped the person to get off the ground first, squatted in front of her, picked up the embroidered shoes on the ground, raised his eyes and smiled at Shen Shuyi: "This prince will help you put on your shoes."
Shen Shuyi pulled the hem of her skirt and stretched out her feet.
Zhao Heng held the embroidered shoes in one hand and held her feet with the other hand and carefully put on the shoes.
Looking at the white jade-like feet, he had only one thought in his mind: he used to put shoes on his beloved wife every morning when he woke up.
…
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