All The Male Leads Have Blackened

After Cen Simiao said this sentence, there was no movement in the room for a long time, only two people could hear the breathing. She was still leaning on Song Boyu, her eyes were down, she seemed a little uneasy, and her hands were doing small movements.

Song Boyu could clearly see, but he didn't react, and there was no emotion in his eyes. He stared at Cen Simiao for a while, then slowly became puzzled.

Cen Simiao used to coax him softly or speak kindly, which made people feel especially gentle, but never like now.

She looked down, her shoulders shrinking unnaturally, she had lost her former momentum, and she felt aggrieved.

Song Boyu frowned, who had wronged her?

He didn't speak for a long time, only staring at Cen Simiao. The suffocation in my heart just disappeared suddenly, but it was a little pleasant. Song Boyu felt that he was getting something wrong.

Suddenly, his sleeves were dragged and he looked down. Cen Simiao was raising her head, frowning slightly, clenching her lips, and the expression on her face was lost.

She sighed, released Song Boyu, and then left from his arms, taking a few steps back, not seeing the intimacy just now.

Song Boyu's involuntary Capricorn cuffs, with the warmth after being touched, looked at Cen Simiao, looked at his eyes and chest again, and frowned involuntarily. The unpleasant feeling spread in the bottom of my heart.

Cen Simiao turned around, and he could only see her back, her long white neck, and some reddish earlobes.

Song Boyu's eyes sank, and suddenly there was a strong emotional surge, and he wanted to rub it.

His knot rolled.

Cen Simao bowed her head, seeming a little discouraged, and took two steps forward, farther from Song Boyu. She gritted her teeth and turned unwillingly.

But when he saw that his eyes were deep, the emotion inside made it clear for the first time to Cen Simiao.

Desire

He made no secret.

Cen Smiao moved her eyes, squinted her eyes, walked over the corner of her lips, and stopped when she was only one step away. Song Boyu was still looking at her, and there was a little anxiety between Meiyu.

Cen Simiao tilted her head, glanced at him, then took his hand and said softly, "What's wrong with you?"

She noticed that Song Boyu's hands became stiff.

He did not wait for him to react, then released him, and then slid up his arm, her expression was as natural as ever, with the slightly curly hair sticking to her cheek, the face became more charming.

Song Boyu did not hide until the hand came to his face and stroked it gently. Cen Simiao bent her eyes, hooked his neck, and touched the tip of his nose. The warm breath fell on his face, and itching to the bottom of his heart instantly.

She said softly, "You don't want to teach me, then let me teach you?"

Song Boyu was still immersed in her gentle touch. Suddenly he heard such a sentence, he glanced at Cen Simiao, and his expression on his face recovered a little indifferently: "You can't paint well."

Cen Simiao froze, and then her eyes moved. The charming expression on her eyebrows became more and more attractive. She nodded, her smile sweet, and leaned closer to his ear: "I know, but I can teach you something else."

He was puzzled.

Cen Simao's hand gradually slid down again, moving extremely slowly.

Song Boyu was dissatisfied with her abruptly leaving hand, and two pale eyebrows wrinkled. Suddenly his face changed, his breathing was quick, and he looked at Cen Simiao with a stunned look.

She bent the corner of her mouth, her chin against his chest, her expression as gentle as usual. Looking at Song Boyu's eyes became more charming, and he heard his breathing, shaking his eyes.

Keeping his voice down, his hands kept moving: "Want to learn?"

Song Boyu's face flushed with a touch of impatience, mixed with his cold temperament, surprisingly harmonious.

With Cen Simiao's movements, he lifted his chin to reveal the rolling throat knot, his eyes became more and more indulgent, and the voice overflowing from his throat directly expressed his pleasure without any tolerance.

Cen Simiao hooked her mouth.

For a whole day, almost no one left the room. Ambiguous voices sounded from time to time, especially presumptuous.

Cen Simiao didn't really want to do this, just temporarily. The main thing is that his temperament is so cold that he is dying, so he just posted the words of a stranger.

But his face was full of affection. The desire was obvious, and even unlike ordinary people, they would show restraint, but showed it generously.

She didn't hold back all of a sudden.

Song Boyu is very simple. As long as he explores his ideas, he will no longer find it difficult to get along. Cen Simiao was pleased with him, and she was still letting her move, and first asked him to teach her to paint.

Song Boyu promised this time.

Ceng Simiao almost couldn't believe her ears. The system brushed the forum while sighing, glanced at the posts it posted before, and a few friends seriously gave it suggestions.

The system nodded, especially moved, and then thought for a while to reply: "She can get a lot of favors every time she works, and the task is progressing smoothly, but I'm trembling, especially afraid of her playing it. Reasonably, she has stopped doing it, will the strategy favorability slow down? "

"Oh, so tangled."

Cen Simao did not know how the system evaluated her. Recently, she has been thinking about painting with Song Boyu. He had very strict requirements. If Cen Simao was not serious, she would be cold-faced, and then she would have to coax again.

Fortunately, the two were close again. In addition to manual operation, he began to rely on Cen Simiao.

Almost every day without her talking, Song Boyu came to her room automatically, holding a painting tool in her hand. Then at night he would be bathed by Cen Simiao, and she would even dry her hair.

Song Poyu used to pour water by himself, but now it has become Cen Simiao.

Maybe she was too tired. She suddenly felt that her throat was uncomfortable. Drinking a lot of water didn't help. She was afraid of infecting Song Boyu, so she kept him away.

Song Boyu paused while drawing, and froze, without talking.

Cen Simiao put on her coat and was ready to go out to buy medicine, and shouted at him, but Song Boyu didn't say anything. She just said, "Stay at home, I'll be back in a while."

The words fell, and hurried footsteps sounded.

Song Boyu glanced at half of the painting, and suddenly felt irritable, holding his paintbrush tightly.

The cold wind outside, Cen Simiao wrapped in a thick down jacket, still felt a little cold, bought medicine and went back. The road was delayed due to traffic jams. She waited patiently and left this section after an hour.

Near the door of her house, she was preparing to stop and suddenly saw a figure standing there, her eyes tightening.

Song Boyu was wearing thin single trousers, and his loose trousers lined him to become thinner. The neckline of the cashmere sweater was a bit large. Cold wind was poured through it, and his fair skin was frozen and blue.

His expression was calm, his eyes were dark and his lips were white.

Cen Simiao quickly got out of the car, walked over and grabbed his hand, and it was really cold, and he suddenly lost his breath: "What are you doing here stupidly? Don't you die?"

He didn't say a word, and slightly lifted his chin with a hint of coldness. Let Cen Simiao drag him back to the house. The clothes on his body were all cold. I didn't know how long he had stood outside. Cen Simiao asked him to take a hot bath and run for a while.

Song Boyu, just like he didn't hear it, didn't move at all.

She was uncomfortable when she had a cold. Seeing him still so tossing, she became even more angry: "What the **** is wrong with you?"

Song Boyu frowned and glanced at her: "You said for a while."

It took so long to come back.

Cen Simiao froze, then reacted, pursed his lips, his eyes were serious, his expression was a little displeased, and she did something wrong, but in turn blamed him.

She froze for a long time, speechless.

Song Boyu always wanted to take a hot bath to warm his body, but he still refused, Cen Simiao didn't help what he said.

She was so angry that she calmed down and thought for a moment, then frowned suddenly, and gave him a tentative look: "I'm not going out, I will definitely give you a towel this time."

Song Boyu pursed his lips: "You will lie to me."

Cen Simiao finally found the crux of the problem, looked up at him, smiled softly, walked around and pinched his waist, then reached under the cashmere sweater.

She rubbed her fingertips and slowly rolled up the edges of the clothes: "Take off your clothes and I will accompany you to the bath."

The steam in the bathroom was steaming. He was lying in the bathtub. Cen Simiao was only wearing a suspender nightdress, squatting aside, and leaned slightly to slap water on his body, exposing the whiteness of his chest.

Song Boyu was very obedient at this moment, his head was hanging down, his face was wet with mist, his eyes were hazy. Cen Simiao bent her eyes and gently stroked him.

Song Boyu glanced at her: "Aren't you washing?"

The clothes on her body were already so wet, the thin cloth was clinging to her lips, her lips were squeezed, and she didn't speak. Song Boyu's eyes showed that it was just a simple question and had no other thoughts.

Cen Simiao was aroused bad thoughts.

She gently tapped her fingertips on Song Boyu's skin, then hooked his neck, leaned forward, and went into the bathtub all at once, and the suspender skirt on her body suddenly became wet.

Cen Simiao's thigh touched his hand, and he inadvertently stung, but was suddenly grasped fiercely.