It wasn't until I was sixteen, perhaps because I was too cold-blooded, that I began accepting real missions and going out to assassinate prey. Just like that, in a daze, for more than a decade, I lost count of how much blood I had on my hands. Later, after I killed my last couple of prey, I was told they were my biological parents. Although I had no feelings for them, I couldn't accept it. So I began to plan how to take down the assassin organization.
After my investigation, I found out that the orphanage that raised us had an illicit deal with a killer organization. They were active in stealing babies who were newborns or a few months old and raising them in orphanages. When they were seven or eight years old, the killer organization would take the children away.
After finding the incriminating evidence, I sent it to the police via text message. I returned to the organization alone to confront them. I didn't want to live anymore, and wanted to be completely free, so I detonated the grenade and perished with them. You ask if I can go back? I think I probably can't. After all, my original body was blown to pieces. How could I go back?
Seeing her calm expression and her indifferent tone, he felt heartbroken. He held her in his arms, feeling distressed and not knowing how to comfort her. Although there was no emotion, if it was really her parents, and she killed them, how could she not feel bad? If it were him, he would also feel bad and unacceptable.
I put my arms around his neck, feeling much more at ease and relieved. It was really hard to hold these things in my heart. Every time I wanted to let them out, to speak out loud. But I couldn't say it. Forget whether others would believe me or not. Even if they did, they would probably think I was a fool!
She raised her head and held his face, kissing his thin lips with her red lips. He hugged her tightly, responding to her passionate love.
Just as he was about to take off her clothes, she stopped him and said, "Come in with me." Then she stood up and pulled him along, walking into the big villa. She found the clothes she had prepared for him, and then found her own clothes.
He ran to the bathroom and started running the bathwater. Like Granny Liu entering the Grand View Garden, he curiously surveyed everything in the room. He saw her old photos, and they looked exactly the same as now, the only difference being the colors in the photos, now in black and white. In the photos, An Ran wore colorful clothes, but she wore very little, her arms and legs exposed. Her face was radiant, yet cold as ice, like an icy beauty. He couldn't recover from the sight for a long time.
At this time, she stuck her head out of the bathroom and said, "Brother Kun, come here and take off your clothes."
Cao Kun was like a puppet, he walked over obediently, took off his clothes, and stared at her blankly. An Ran held her forehead, this big fool, he took off his clothes when asked to, but didn't he know to take off his pants?
Grabbing a large towel, she wrapped herself up and walked out of the bathroom. She came to him and unbuttoned his pants, which he then slid down to the floor.
When Cao Kun saw her, her entire shoulders and arms were exposed, her skin as white as snow. Her slender and sexy long legs below her buttocks all caught his eye. He clenched his fists nervously, and his breathing became rapid.
An Ran found his dazed, depressed look amusing. She lifted his underwear and slowly backed away, her gaze soft and tender, like a vixen, captivating him. He followed her steps obediently, moving forward step by step. Even if there was a bottomless abyss ahead, he would gladly accept it.
After entering the bathroom, the showerhead sprayed warm water, pouring down on both of them. She ripped his underwear open and pulled off her towel. Her gaze was fixed on him, almost igniting him. She pulled him into her arms and kissed her lips. In the bathroom, they bathed each other in a passionate kiss.
An hour's shower lasted two hours, and he dried them both. He rushed out of the bathroom, carrying her, impatiently, and into the room, throwing her onto the bed with a rough, yet gentle, gesture. Like a wolf, he pressed down hard on her, kissing her all over, intertwining their fingers.
At the critical moment, his low and hoarse voice sounded. He said: "Of course, I will be very gentle, please give it to me."
She hugged him silently. He was very happy. He finally had his wedding night with his wife. If he backed down at this time, he would not be a man.
The two of them merged into one, and she clutched his back in pain. He soothed her, kissing her, trying to stir her desire and dissipate her pain. He was also in pain, gritting his teeth to suppress the overwhelming desire.
She responded to his kiss. Feeling her encouragement, he held her close and began to work hard, like a tireless machine. He tore her apart ten times throughout the night. He couldn't control himself as she cried out for him, "Husband," "Brother Kun," and begged for mercy. The more she cried, the more he wanted to possess her, wishing she were his body, so he could love her every moment.
Only when she fainted from the torment did he reluctantly let her go and put on his clothes. He ran into the bathroom, got a clean, warm towel, wiped her clean, covered her with the quilt, and returned the towel. He returned, took off his clothes, climbed into bed, and held her in his arms before falling asleep contentedly.
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