Wei Anning didn't know when the torture would end. It was as if a crazed beast rampaged within her body, relentlessly fierce and aggressive. She cried and pleaded, struggled to escape, but in the end, he always dragged her back.
She cried until her voice was hoarse, but he never stopped.
She never imagined that their first time would start like this, with him so out of control like a wild beast that she was scared, afraid, and it reminded her of the man with the mask.
Leng Youchen didn't know how many times he had taken her. Towards the end, he was driven mad by her tightness, and when he realized, she had already fainted beneath him.
The water rippled, and he hurriedly lifted her out of the bathtub, afraid, and laid her back on the bed.
Wei Anning was like a lifeless kite with its string cut, slumped on the bed, her face pale as paper. Leng Youchen looked at her, his heart filled with annoyance and self-blame.
