Miao Jiangke

Zuo Qingyue raised his head, the distance between the two was very close, his breathing was intertwined when he lowered his eyes, he could even see the assassin's trembling long eyelashes.

He didn't respond to the assassin's whisper, and let go of his hand as if he didn't hear it, and the silence spread.

Qiu Yangui pursed his lips, and the hand around the young master stiffened, but he didn't take it back.

"You want to see me?" After a long while, Zuo Qingyue couldn't hear the voice of joy and anger. He stared into the assassin's eyes and asked slowly.

Qiu Yangui pursed his lips uncomfortably, and nodded slightly, "...um."

Zuo Qingyue looked at the person in front of him with an unclear expression.

The assassin in his impression is a stickler, a little old-fashioned, always restrained and depressed.

Is his subordinate.

But at this moment, the man with his arms around his waist, trying to be calm, seemed to have relieved some heavy burdens, and could not help revealing a little secret in his heart, frank like a broken can...

Frank?

The doubts that had just arisen were diluted by these two words, Zuo Qingyue twitched the corners of his mouth, the emotions in his eyes dissipated a lot, he casually raised his hand to hold the assassin's hand around his waist, rubbed it gently for a moment, the other hand He wrapped his arms around Qiu Yangui's waist, and pressed him into his arms.

The slightly cool fingertips ran down his hand, nimbly picked up the white belt, and stroked the thin-skinned lower abdomen without haste, and then covered the whole palm of his hand, slowly stroking He held the assassin's thin and powerful waist.

Qiu Yangui froze, a rush of heat surged into his heart, he bit his thin lips blushingly, his lower abdomen contracted twice sensitively, subconsciously wanted to escape, but was held firmly in place again.

A chuckle sounded in his ears, and half of Qiu Yangui's body went numb, "Yangui is so funny."

Zuo Qingyue felt his impatience and stiffness, and the delicate kiss went down the ear, rubbing against the side of his neck, like catkins being blown by the wind, gently soaked with the temperature like the sun.

Qiu Yangui's breathing was very heavy, inhaling greedily like a drowning person, he narrowed his eyes chaotically, his clear eyes turned red in confusion, then he raised his neck obediently and comfortably, and involuntarily climbed up to the water chest with his hands. Lord's shoulders.

He was pressed against the door panel, his clothes were half off, and the only sound in the room was the collision of shackles and chaotic breathing, mixed with ambiguous movements.

In a piece of chaos.

When Qiu Yan returned, he had no time to react, so he was pressed on the table, with his elbows propped on the wooden table, and a slender body covered his back. The assassin's shoulders and back were smooth, forming a superior aesthetic arc.

Zuo Qingyue admired the assassin's pitiful appearance for a while, and kissed the back of his neck as if rewarding him.

The weight behind him suddenly disappeared, Qiu Yangui was stunned for a moment, and looking back, Zuo Qingyue took out a small round porcelain bottle from nowhere, which contained snow-white ointment.

Qiu Yangui realized what it was, and his face turned red. He turned his head and didn't dare to look any more. His heart was pounding. Zuo Qingyue comforted and rubbed the back of his neck, "Hey, don't be afraid."

Qiu Yangui was breathing heavily, suddenly his pupils shrank and his body shook involuntarily.

The weird feeling made him at a loss, but fortunately, the young master was patient enough, and the other hand gently stroked his back.

The assassin's body gradually became less tense, and limp limply, Zuo Qingyue's eyes flickered slightly, he stopped his movements, and the assassin subconsciously relaxed for a moment.

The next moment, his fingers suddenly grabbed the wooden table, leaving a steamy fingerprint on it.

He opened his eyes wide at a loss, his jaw was pinched, Qiu Yangui had no choice but to turn his head, and then his red lips were gently held, licked and nibbled patiently, as if he wanted to swallow all the ambiguity into his throat.

Qiu Yangui was shocked, the young master kissed him, it was a gentle but domineering invasion.

The young master's breath invaded, and the discomfort subsided a lot, only those seductive peach blossom eyes remained in his eyes, and he still had an incomparably clear sense of satisfaction.

The young master's panting sound was very low, like a cluster of open flames in late autumn, Qingyue magnetic and indescribably charming, the assassin raised his hand to cover his eyes.

It felt as if he really possessed the young master, Qiu Yangui couldn't resist this kind of bewitchment, and was willing to sink.

The bedroom is huge, with window sills, wooden chairs, and a spacious bed, and tencel fixes the shackles that are constantly shaking and colliding.

The spring light shines into the obscure and damp clear pool, disturbing the tranquility of the pool. The halo of confusion penetrates into the water, and the turbidity has nothing to hide. Vigorous.

When everything subsides, the clear pool is still sparkling, like a trembling body that cannot be restrained, and then the dark clouds dissipate, and the light gently penetrates into it, caressing and nourishing a pool of clear water, like someone gently kissing the person under him , Wiping away the undried tears from the corners of his eyes.

-

The body is limp and weak, as if three souls and six souls have been extracted by someone, floating up and down and falling into the broken body, unstable and vain.

When Qiu Yangui's consciousness gradually came back, he felt dizzy, and even moved his fingers with difficulty.

He opened his eyes with difficulty, and found that he was not in the prison palace, what he saw was a light golden bed curtain.

The strange feeling made him startled, and the assassin's incomplete consciousness gradually merged. A chaotic picture flashed in his mind, and Qiu Yangui's expression suddenly changed. He subconsciously wanted to support his body, but overestimated his current situation , and fell back halfway through, and was caught off guard and hit something.

"Hmm..." There was an irritable murmur in my ear, and then someone domineeringly circled my waist, and I was wrapped into a familiar embrace. The hoarse and deep voice was a little unconscious, "Don't move around." .”

Qiu Yangui's restless heart calmed down strangely.

He stared quietly at the person in front of him, the young master was obviously dissatisfied with being disturbed from his dream, his brows and eyes were full of irritability, his crow-feather-like eyelashes were long and drawn, and at this moment he was trembling slightly, making his heart itch.

The corners of his eyes were stained red by the heat, and Qiu Yangui immediately thought of the bewildered and focused expression of the young master just now.

It's like...he's special.

The well-known femme fatale, the young master of Miao Jiang, whom many people admire but daunt, is lying quietly on his pillow at this moment, as if he has never set up defenses against him.

Even in such a nasty way, even if he has thoughts that are hard to see.

Qiu Yangui slowly stretched out his hand, gently placed it on Zuo Qingyue's wrist, then slowly lowered his head, allowing himself to rub into the young master's neck and shoulders, with a trace of tiredness showing on his always calm brows.

In front of the young master, the assassin can let go of all pride and dignity, and only cherish what is in front of him, like a gift.

It's just that as soon as he touched him, the young master moved lightly, frowning as if uncomfortable, disappointment flashed in Qiu Yangui's eyes, but he still got up slowly and prepared to back away.

Suddenly a pair of big hands held his head down, and the hand he carefully placed on the young master's wrist was also held in a rebellious manner. The sleeping person squeezed his knuckles into each other until the fingers of the two of them intertwined. buckle.

Qiu Yangui was stunned, rubbed his head lightly twice, and then pressed down on his sore waist, the distance between the two suddenly drew closer.

The warmth from behind seeped into the depths of the bone marrow. I don't know if it was the assassin's illusion. The cold knuckles seemed to be infected with a temperature that didn't belong to them, and they were much hotter than usual.

Miaojiang in late autumn does not seem to be that cold.