The wind is low and hoarse, and the fragrance of cinnamon is pervasive.

The night gradually ushered in a little light, and there was slowly the sound of people moving in all corners.

In the woman's boudoir, there was occasionally a brisk bell ringing, tickling the young man's heart little by little.

He wrapped his hands and feet around her body, crushing her to death, and his slightly cold lips fell on her lips for too long, and they had become warm.

If he noticed that her leg had gone somewhere else, he would reach out and get her leg back, and he would not be willing to let her use both hands and feet stick to himself.

"The Strange Shapes of the Boyfriends I Picked Up in the Horror Game" Chapter 225 The Hundredth First Love (28) It's in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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