TB

CHAPTER 70

Grace wiped her saliva and bloody lips with the back of her hand, which was still intact with no tears. She thought he would drink her blood as much as he fed her, but he wouldn’t bite her lips.

“Good job.”

Winston patted her on the butt as if complimenting her.

He even had a satisfied smile on his face, like an owner who had corrected a dog’s bad habits. Unfortunately, he really fixed her ‘bad habit.’ Now she wouldn’t bite him anymore when he tried to kiss her.

Maniac.

Blood and madness glared at the lips at the same time, belatedly realizing that she was on eye level with him. Grace’s knees were touching the table, not the floor. She couldn’t remember when he picked her up and sat her on his thigh.

He then lifted her lightly once more and laid her down on the table. As the cold metal touched her bare skin, she reflexively shrunk down though her legs were wide open.

Winston, holding Grace’s knees on both sides, slowly scanned between them. Was he suspecting that she would have sold her body to the orderlies?

He did not just confirm that the area between her thighs was seemingly clean, but he also spread her opening with his fingers and poked it. As the two knuckles popped up from the bending fingers squeezed and stirred the inner flesh, her insides tightened, her lips parted, and she let out a strange moan.

“Ahht…”

Winston, who immediately glanced down at her immediately with pathetic eyes at her lewd reaction, pulled his finger out without warning.

“Uht!”

With a sound, her back bent and then sank, bumping into the table. Even after his fingers were gone, the inner wall continued to twitch as if longing for what was gone.

Craving.

Was she craving this person’s body?

Grace bit her lip in humiliation. With his hand out, she pulled her legs together and covered her chest with her arms. As if she had never stood naked in front of him moments before, she felt unbearably ashamed.

Winston narrowed his brows as he wiped his wet fingers with his handkerchief. His gaze was on the arm that was pressing down on his chest.

“Your body is mine. Do not leave anything but the marks I made.”

He was talking about the scratches on her arms.

Soon, he began to scan her body from head to toe, looking for another wound. The moment his eyes landed on her neatly gathered knees, his forehead wrinkled once more. There were marks on her knees from slipping down the laundry chute.

Winston asked scornfully, staring at the round, red-spotted wound.

“Did you get down on your knees in front of the orderlies and use the skills I taught you?”

Leon knew better than anyone that there was no way the soldiers who feared him would do such a thing. However, this woman was different. She was fearless and eager to escape. In the end, it was just an irrational fantasy stemming from his desire to monopoly her.

He quickly regained his composure and dropped the used handkerchief on top of the ragged bra. The woman replied belatedly.

“Oh, was there such a good way? I’ll refer to it next time.”

As expected. The woman’s first reaction to his vulgar speculation was a look of disgust, followed by a provocation to stir his anxiety. This woman’s true feelings were always revealed in her first reaction.