Mi Yao was utterly bewildered. She had just been kissed senseless by him and was suddenly pushed away. She looked at him with a dazed and vacant expression, "Husband, what's wrong?"
Huangfu Jianchen's chest began to heave. His lips had lingered on her delicate skin, and he felt an impulse, an urge to bite down.
He wanted to pierce her tender flesh with his sharp fangs, then wildly draw out her fresh blood.
Her blood must be as sweet and thirst-quenching as she was.
Huangfu Jianchen felt an itch deep in his bones, an urge that made his blood boil, like those addicts desperate for a fix. Clenching his hand into a fist, he forcefully suppressed that desire.
"Husband, what's wrong with you, don't scare me. Are you feeling unwell somewhere?" Mi Yao was truly terrified, for his silence was frightening. He was breathing heavily, and it seemed the veins on his forehead were about to pop.
