Xu Si's eyes twinkled with mirth as she lifted her gaze to Pei Zhen's porcelain chin. Leaning against him, utterly spent and relaxed, she uttered words that were unexpectedly bizarre.
In the vast, empty confinement cell, layers of steam swirled and unfurled, creating a scene both hazy and wild.
Rusty water trickled ceaselessly.
Pei Zhen held her, his eyes abruptly lifting. He felt as if the blood in his veins was slowly freezing solid. Indifferent, he leaned his head back, his ash-gray eyes, exceptionally probing, met hers—those slightly upturned, shimmering eyes—flawlessly.
Their gazes locked, neither flinching away. With avid, secret madness, they explored the sordid darkness within each other. Phantom fireworks flickered and danced in the dim, haphazard light.
Xu Si lifted her slender, fragile wrist, a network of fine blue veins visible beneath the skin, and held it to his handsome lips.
"Want a taste?"
