The bloody corpse's nails scratched the coffin lid, making a "squeaking" sound like it was gnawing on bones.
The tip of Su Qing's silver hairpin was pressed against Lin Ye's Adam's apple, but it was deliberately loosened by half, and the tail of the hairpin rubbed against his hot skin.
He grabbed her wrist fiercely, corpse oil dripping down the fingers and onto the back of her hand, as cold as a snake crawling.
She suddenly tilted her head and licked off the blood on his earlobe with her tongue. The sweetness mixed with his body temperature made her tongue numb.
The bloody corpse hit the side of the coffin, and stone chips hit her back, but she shrank harder into his arms, trembling a little when her knees pushed away from his belt.
Lin Ye pressed his hand on the back of her neck. In the musty smell of the shroud, he smelled the fragrance of ink in her hair, and suddenly lowered his head and bit the corner of her lips.
It wasn't heavy, but her silver hairpin fell to the ground, and her fingertips dug into the old wound on his back. Blood seeped through the shirt and mixed with the corpse oil on the back of his hand.
The roar of the bloody corpse penetrated the coffin, and she arched tighter into his arms. Her lower back hit the bones at the bottom of the coffin. Her eyelashes trembled in pain, but she pressed his hand on her heart.
The beating there was passing through his fingers and drilling into the seams of his bones, more attractive than the claws of the bloody corpse.
He suddenly let go and blew his breath on the corner of her lips: "If you continue to make trouble... Just let him see enough."
She laughed out loud, but the tip of her tongue gently licked the red spot he bit, as if responding to the roar of the bloody corpse getting closer.
