On the first day when she was married to the Huo family, Lin Jiaojiao breathed a sigh of relief when she looked at her military officer husband who was said to be in a vegetative state on the bed - she was rich and beautiful, and she didn't have to fulfill her marital obligations. She was a widower!
In order to play the role of the affectionate little daughter-in-law, she scrubbed his broad back dutifully every day, breathed and complained in his ear without warning, and even didn't bother to avoid it when changing clothes. Her white fingertips intentionally or unintentionally traced the man's tight abdominal muscles.
"You can't feel it anyway, so I won't suffer any loss if I let you touch your abdominal muscles, right?"
But Lin Jiaojiao didn't know that Huo Yuan had woken up early.
Trapped in a dark body, the only thing he could feel every day was a pair of soft and warm hands and the sweet-smelling warm breath.
Every scrub and every touch was frantically teasing his cold nerves, pushing him to the edge of sanity collapse.
Until one night, Lin Jiaojiao had just finished taking a shower, wrapped in a thin old shirt and lying on the bedside mumbling as usual, when she suddenly met a pair of deep and dangerous black eyes with red ends.
The next second, the world was spinning.
The man who should have been paralyzed in bed locked her in the corner with one hand. His thick calloused fingertips rubbed her trembling back bit by bit, and his voice was hoarse and hoarse:
"After touching it for so long, do you feel satisfied? Now, it's my turn to fulfill my marital obligations."
