In the bedroom, the opulent scent of post-coital bliss lingered heavily. Su Ziceng, cradled in arm, had already fallen into a deep sleep, her eyes not opening once throughout the entire ordeal.
"Is it so hard to share a room with me?" Pello tucked Su Ziceng in, his arms encircling her waist.
His body was covered in sweat; he ought to take a shower, but he began to worry that once he steps out, the sleeping beauty in his arms would vanish.
"You can't blame me, it was you who came to my door," Pello buried his head in Su Ziceng's chest, kissing her softness, her neck, and front, now all marked with kisses, some spots turned purplish-red from his sucking.
He hadn't forced her; when he initially saved Su Qingzhang, Pello had already made his plans clear. He was no philanthropist, and Su Qingzhang was no good man; allowing Su Qingzhang to live was the greatest act of mercy he could muster.
