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... om.

In Jiarong's apartment, Wang Xiao lay sprawled on the couch, his legs boldly resting on Jiarong's soft lap. Her slender fingers twitched, as though itching to snap something—preferably his legs.

"Xiao Wang," she began, her voice sweet as honey laced with poison, "Move your legs. Or shall I remind you what pain feels like?"

Her silk black gown fit tightly to her slender waist, offering teasing glimpses of flawless, smooth skin. Her cascading black hair framed a face so ...

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