Kuai Chuan: The cold Lord God always acts like a spoiled brat to me

Chapter 695
Su Qingan's pupils constricted in astonishment, and there was no room for resistance at all.

The opponent's teeth collided fiercely, and blood came out. It was not a gentle rubbing of ears and temples, but an attack on a fragile prey.

Qi Lou trembled: "The blackening value... 75!"

Su Qing'an could no longer hear the voice clearly, all her senses were destroyed by one person, and she was forced to lean against the carriage behind her, her face turned paler.

She frowned in displeasure, just about to speak, but he was at a loss.

"Let's... be presumptuous!"

The smell of blood filled the air, and Su Qing'an's hands were tightly clutching his shoulders, her delicate finger bones turned white, and her light-colored glazed eyes were covered with moisture.

That bodhisattva-like face, flushed.

The eyelashes were wet and drooping, and they were shackled in the carriage.

The soft voice was extremely hoarse and painful, and the order at this time also had a color of resistance.

Cen Zhou blocked all her escape routes, and imprisoned the golden and precious princess in the carriage, with her high nose against her, bloodstains still remaining on the side of her face, the blood was dripping, and her back was thin and straight.

"What presumptuousness?" He lowered his long, black eyelashes, looked down at her from above, the tip of his teeth was cruel and reckless, he was clearly doing the most rebellious thing, but those eyes were always dark and cold, sealing the flames and cold winter, like the eyes of an outsider. Standing on the sidelines, he was not tainted with half-heartedness.

A low and hoarse voice sounded, and the tone was always cold.

Su Qingan opened her mouth, but she didn't have a chance to speak.

The woman's chin was pinched by Cen Zhou, and her neck was raised in a particularly beautiful arc. She was trembling, fragile, and stretched out beautiful and seductive lines. On her white skin like suet jade, the dark blue blood vessels were obviously slender, as if proud Dying white swan.

Her person is not the same as her heart.

It is warmth that is extremely inconsistent with cold-blooded means.

Everywhere is soft, broken with one hand.

Cen Zhou paused for a moment, smiled, and whispered in Su Qingan's ear, "Isn't this what the princess wants?"

The cold breath sprayed on the skin on the side of the ear, and the earlobe as thin as a cicada's wing trembled. Su Qing'an subconsciously hid, but was forced to turn her face back, and the white pearl earring hit the side of the face, making a crisp sound!

The pinched jaw was painful, Su Qingan raised her face, narrowed her eyes to look at him, her vision blurred to focus, fixed on the young man's indifferent eyebrows, and coughed violently several times, the mist in her eyes hadn't all faded away, and the tails of her eyes were red. The tear mole is even more scorching, as if it is crying.

After waiting for a long time, Su Qing'an spoke slowly.

"If you offend the princess, what should you do next?"

The voice is soft, sandy, and somewhat carelessly majestic and lazy.

Intertwined with a seductive and frightening tone.

It's just that her messy white dress, the folds that appeared, the soft curvature of her waist, and those teary eyes are really not scary.

Crazy want to see her cry, to see her tears wet the cinnabar mole.

This should be what most people think, Cen Zhou is indifferent, not even the slightest physical reaction, the psychology is far more disgusting and repulsive than the physical, everything is not ambiguous but a game.

"So what if I offend you?" Cen Zhou stared at her, his eyes gliding over her blood-stained lips, sarcastically, "The princess can punish me for disrespect at any time."

At such a close distance, even breathing intertwined, she didn't hide from him or retreat, and neither one gave in, so close that they could catch each other's breath, as well as each other's heartbeat.

Bang, bang—"bang."

Su Qing'an imitated, opening her beautiful red mouth lightly, making a mouth shape and syllables.

Cold and powerful, devoid of human emotion.

It's his heartbeat.

(End of this chapter)