Jian Anning was touched by him, and her entire body suddenly stood on end, pores and all! His fingers, unlike hers, had slightly thickened fingertips from playing the piano for long periods. But the tips were slightly cool, and a bit moist, and such a pair of hands were gliding up slowly, up her leg, sliding and sliding—finally touching the edge of her panties!
She trembled violently.
Even though she wore boxer-style panties to prevent exposure, it was just a thin layer of fabric.
At that moment, her entire consciousness and energy were focused on his moving fingers. When she felt his fingertips, moving from the edge to the center's slight depression, she couldn't bear it any longer and let out a soft moan.
"Anning, what's wrong?" Lu Jiayuan, sitting across from her, heard her voice and was immediately puzzled. He was genuinely worried about her health; seeing her flushed and seemingly sick, he abruptly interrupted their conversation to ask.
