After Fei Yunze was full of annoyance, after putting Yange on the bed, he went to the study.

After thinking about it, he started to deal with some things.

I don't know how long it took, I heard the sound of a crisp sound outside the glass.

He was agitated, thinking of the little girl who wouldn't know what else to do, so he got up and rushed out.

When I went out, I saw the little girl standing in front of the wine cabinet and breaking a bottle of red wine on the ground. She was standing barefoot there, and she wore a black shirt with a button on her clothes. She was covered by a few points.

Upon hearing his footsteps, she turned in panic and explained to him, "I'm thirsty and want something to drink."

She was pure and delicate in a white skirt, and now he was wearing such a black shirt, showing her two white swaying thighs, she looked like a little witch, charming and charming, making people look special ** I really want to tear her clothes off.

Her voice was a little flustered, her innocence and timidity, her big eyes fluttering, and she looked so poorly, but made him desperate.

She also had a bottle of white wine in her hand, and found that he looked at the white wine in her hand, and she said, "This, this is too difficult to drink, I just want to get another bottle, I didn't expect to hit Broken."

She was anxious to move her feet, but the soles of her feet were all glass scum. He shouted in shock: "Don't move, stand still."

His voice was too harsh. She was frightened, and immediately motionless, the tears fell out, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

He took her a few steps and held her in his arms. "There are glass scum on the ground and it will stick to your feet. It doesn't matter how many bottles you drop, but you can't hurt yourself."

She lifted her head slightly, and looked ignorant: "I didn't drop the bottle. I just want to drink some water."

She held up the bottle of wine in her hand, but because he was holding him away, the bottle of wine swayed, and all the wine in it fell on her and him.

She couldn't help it. A pair of wet eyes stared at him. "I, I didn't mean it."

The black shirt, which could not cover her, was soaked with wine and clung to her.

He held her buttocks and pinched her hips, looked down at her, and asked in a dumb voice, "Are you still drinking water?"

She shook her head: "Don't drink it, it's not good, it's especially hard to drink ..."

Her voice was soft and soft, and the water vapor in her eyes was only after he realized it. She seemed to be drunk?

Putting her on the bed, he lowered his head and kissed her lips: "I taste it, is it really hard to drink?"

"Um." She hummed softly. "It's really bad."

He climbed his fingers over her chest, pinched the grain across a wet shirt, and absently answered, "It's a bit unpalatable."

"I want to rinse my mouth," she said with tears in his eyes and grieved him. "It smells weird."

He swept in again: "I help you."

After a bit of entanglement, he pressed his finger on her lips and asked softly, "How about, did you rinse?"

She hooked his neck, and put her lips together again. "There is still taste."

His voice was still aggrieved, he washed her mouth and helped her wash her body again.

With a scent of wine, she tasted as if drunk, and she did not know whether it was drunk or her body was more intoxicating.

It was about drunk. She was crying softly, her body softer and more tangled than usual, and her voice more charming and sloshing than usual.