Her face looked calm, as if she didn't mind.

Back to the glory of Chen Muchen, she calmly pulled the pajamas down, and set the skirts from the bottom up.

Her movements are very slick, and it seems that there is no such thing as a woman's artificiality.

In fact, Moxier only wants to make a quick decision, ending this embarrassing moment this morning.

However, the skirt just pulled to the chest, and Qing Muchen seems to have come over here.

His footsteps, sly, went extremely slow.

Moxier’s chest jumped inexplicably.

I didn't pay attention to it, and when I wanted to continue pulling the skirt, I just had an action, and my hand was suddenly pressed by one hand.

At the sight of Moxi, all the blood, like a moment, rushed to the face, and the whole face was hot enough to roast the eggs.

Qing Muchen’s corner of the eye glanced at her direction, her long leg went forward, her body was put on her back, her fingertips played like a piece of music slowly drifting past her shoulder, his hand Suddenly wrapped her hand.

His palm is not as delicate as a child with a golden spoon.

Qing Muchen’s palm is very thin, but he can’t say the solidity, like the strength of the infinite force, just wrapped in him, so that Moxier feels practical.

His hand is the same as every part of his body, and there is a strong male hormone in the place.

The palm of the hand brought a little sputum, and when it passed through the skin, it brought a slight tingling, like the current passing, cool, itchy, such feeling, Moxi children do not hate.

He seems to be close to her, and Moxier feels the breath he squirts, and she can feel that the distance between the two seems to be becoming negative.

"When I came back last night, you fell asleep." The thin lips twitched slightly, and the squad behind him, faintly opened the mouth.

"It was a little sleepy last night. When I was painting, I fell asleep after painting." Moxier restrained the heartbeat of the chest and made his tone sound as calm as possible.

"It doesn't matter." Qing Muchen's face leaned against her face.

Moxier instinctively wants to go over the head to hide, however, he seems to have expected her impulse.

Her head just started to move, but he was pressed by one hand.

Moxier was helpless and stiffly waiting for his next words.

She can feel something in the words of Qing Muchen.

She never thought he was a good talker.

Suddenly mentioning this, if not for the sake of care, he did not say it necessary.

Sure enough, the next sentence of Qing Muchen confirmed her guess.

Thin lips tend to her ears, and he whispers in a low-pitched manner. "It doesn't matter, it fell last night, now we can make up!"

boom!

There is something in the head of Moxier that has been blown up.

Qing Muchen didn't seem to want to give her time to react. An arm hooked her waist and leaned against her and leaned against the wall of the wardrobe behind her.

Leaning over, biting the neckline of her skirt with teeth, tearing off the clothes on her body, his body directly pressed up -

His movements are very direct, without any warning, and without any reminder. It is directly a violent storm.

Moxier was very dead by him, and there was no room for struggle.

Rubbing her brow, her hand smashed his shoulder.