On a midsummer night, the cicadas in the courtyard were singing endlessly, one after another, making his already hot heart unable to calm down at all.

The little hands wrapped around his waist became more and more restless, scratching like a cat.

The string of reason that he had been struggling to hold on to was completely broken.

The white skirt is like an epiphany blooming at night, and after blooming with a charming fragrance, it withers layer by layer, and there is a touch of pure white......

"Pretense" Chapter 94 I'm sorry I'm hitting my hand, please wait a moment,

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