The petite little wife: don't misunderstand the proud president

Both of them were addicted to the intoxicated passion, tearing and gnawing, their clothes were messed up, their breathing became heavy and messy, the temperature inside the car seemed to suddenly rise sharply, The ambiguous air seemed to have expanded to the point of ignition, and it was about to explode!

At this moment, the loud truck horn sounded tore through the tranquility of the suburbs, and suddenly drowned out the small sounds of kisses and groans inside the car.

The bright headlights swept over, and the car was bright for a while, and the two people who were originally in a daze suddenly became clear, and the enthusiasm in the car that could be burning at any time suddenly cooled down.

When Lan Xinhui woke up from the ignorance of kissing, she found herself riding on Wang Zichen's body in messy clothes. She hurriedly covered her happy chest.

Wang Zichen also quickly grabbed a piece of his clothes and draped them over her body, covering her burst of love before the headlights of the truck swept by.

After the light swept over, the car returned to darkness, but the two people in the car were still staring at each other blankly. In the not-so-large car interior, the sound of panting echoed.

"Chi—" Suddenly, the two laughed at the same time.

Lan Xinhui moved, wanting to get off Wang Zichen's body, but Wang Zichen supported her shoulders to prevent her from moving: "Don't move yet."

She twisted her body in reluctance: "No, there may be a car coming."

Wang Zichen's hand holding her shoulders exerted a little strength, his breathing became heavier, and his voice became much hoarse: "If you twist and turn like this again, you can't help but want it or not."

At this time, Lan Xinhui's hand accidentally touched an existence that could not be ignored, and she let out a low cry in fright.

"Damn it!" He groaned, his hoarse voice tinged with sexiness: "I told you not to move, I just wanted to turn on the light first...""

The palm was scorching hot, and the back of the hand was his warm palm. Lan Xinhui felt that her hand seemed to be on fire.

. . . . . . . .

She heard a contented sigh growl in his throat, and she heard herself let out an involuntary breath.

He fished out a towel out of nowhere and started wiping her hands, and then, himself.

"Would you like me to help you?" he asked.

"Help me for what?" After asking back, she immediately understood, and quickly refused: "No, no, really no..." She felt her face was burning hot, it was terrible!

He reached out and pressed a small light in the car, and the car was suddenly bright.

He supported her, placed her in the passenger seat, helped her tidy up her messy clothes, and adjusted her seat thoughtfully.

She sat on the seat and watched him in a daze as he tidied up his own underwear, and then adjusted the driver's seat that he had put down at some point.

He leaned over, pulled up the seat belt to help her fasten it, kissed her bright red lips, and touched her hot face: "I'll comfort you when I get home later, okay?"

She didn't know how to answer him, so she just lowered her head blushing.

He smiled, fastened his seat belt, and drove home.