Zhou Qianying felt like she was about to scream her soul out, having never felt as helpless as she did now.
Every time Chen Mo thrust against her most sensitive and tender spot, she felt as though her body was trembling from an earthquake, yes, that vivid feeling of an earthquake was so distinct.
She looked at Chen Mo, who was wearing a masquerade mask, his mouth void of any expression, as he wildly collided with her body.
It was as if she saw a cold and ruthless man, one who wouldn't care about her life or death, only knowing to vent his animalistic desires.
"I, I can't take it anymore," Zhou Qianying said with her own finger in her mouth, while her other hand caressed her breasts, a scene that was too erotic. If an ordinary man saw this, he would have bled three liters from his nose by now.
Yet, Chen Mo had no special feelings, only a very intense hatred.
