Feline senses of smell are extremely sensitive.
Yuan Shiyao could smell a myriad of scents on her.
Her wrists and the space behind her ears carried her usual perfume. Her dark hair, washed last night, gave off a faint fragrance, and her skin was veiled in the light scent of shower gel. And then there were her lips…
His long, dark lashes lifted, and his jade-green, cat-like eyes stared intently at the girl's full, crimson lips.
An uncontrollable, restless itch and thirst surged in Yuan Shiyao's throat.
'Does her lipstick have catnip in it?'
'Otherwise, why does he so desperately want to bite her lips and lick away every last bit of that shimmering color…'
Footsteps seemed to approach from outside the door.
The storage room was cluttered with junk from long disuse. Yuan Shiyao watched as Jiang Qingli looked around, as if searching for a smart device to lock the door.
But there was too much stuff piled up, and she couldn't find it.
She frowned, a little frustrated.
