"Huh? Speak! What part haven't I touched?" He grabbed her chin and stared straight at her.
Qiao Mo's chin ached with pain, her eyes were red, and her nose felt sore.
She lowered her gaze and said softly, "Fu Nancheng, I hate you!"
His gaze paused for a moment, then it turned mischievous as he once again kissed her lips hard.
"Since you hate me anyway, what's the difference with more or less?"
He kissed her forcefully, and the wound on her lips, just scabbed over, broke open again, filling their mouths with a thick taste of blood.
He kissed her neck haphazardly, leaving a series of marks on her flushed skin once more.
As if only by doing so could he prove that she belonged to him.
It wasn't until a few minutes later that his movements paused, his gaze swept over the mist on her eyelashes.
His eyes were slightly moist as he looked away.
His heart ached relentlessly.
