Chapter 72: Crazy Love on the Eve of Parting 2

Her eyes were wide open, as if she were facing a great enemy.

However, it did not occur to resist, and there was no need to resist.

It's his old rule. He insulted her in this way.

Tonight will be no exception.

Unlike in the past, he didn't pounce like crazy and went straight to the point.

In the moonlight, his face completely disappeared from the cruelty of cat and mouse, and instead looked at her deeply. Accustomed to the dark gaze, I saw her curled up in a ball, with a kind of resigned horror.

It was a small creature that was insecure, crippled and could never turn over again.

In particular, the moonlight shone on her so unobstructedly, smearing her with a faint layer of sadness, a faint sadness, and a pitiful place.

He stretched out his hand slowly, and she immediately wanted to wrap herself in the quilt, but his hand was already firmly grasping hers—it was a midsummer night, and her hand was cold to the bone, with a chilling chill.

His hand was surprisingly hot, and he grabbed her tightly, one cold and one hot, like two intertwined tides, desperately pulling, repeatedly entangled, but unable to comprehend it.

It took him a moment before he let go of her hand, slowly bent down, picked her up, and walked upstairs to his own room.

It's been a long time since Joe Wheat has set foot in this room. Ever since he stepped out of those seemingly affectionate days, he had made the house a forbidden place for her.

I just don't know why he lifted the ban tonight.

He slowly laid her down on the bed, and she almost shuddered, a shiver of disgust and fear, like a vicious snake that would immediately squirt at her.

But he didn't care, and his big hand unbuttoned her clothes, surprisingly gentle.

At last, his hand touched the familiar softness again—and he breathed a sigh of relief in his heart—and it turned out that such a feeling had long become a habit.

It was the finest silk, the softest grass, the mildest spring water...... Just touching it is already fascinating.

Sensing her trembling and resistance, he slowly stopped, gasping in a low voice: "Wheat, I said, these days, you must listen to my ......"

Yes, she had to listen to him. Until he gets bored.

These are the last few days, he needs to earn enough of his capital, how can he be willing to buy a woman with real money?

And, on the night he successfully proposed to another woman, he came to play with her.

When a man is despicable, how is he different from a brute?

She closed her eyes tightly, and by that time, his kiss had already fallen. From the forehead to the eyebrows...... It was a wet, lingering kiss, like a drizzle.

and the brutality of the previous days, like two people.

She had been with him for so many days and nights, and had never experienced such tenderness—but it could not bring any feeling, but only a kind of suffering, an irrepressible humiliation and anger.

Those who have fallen to the bottom have lost the room to resist, and over time, they are willing to live in the low.

If this is true of women, it is not the same with the obedient people of a country.

Men let women squirm, rulers, let the people squirm.

As he removed from her soft lips, he suddenly let out a long sigh: "Wheat, I never thought you were a truly submissive woman...... I'm always thinking, one day, how will you break out and settle accounts with me?"