Ji Chicheng had co down from the thirty-first-floor staircase, and Ji Anning, watching his tall figure descending, pouted even higher.
"Ji Anning, stand up yourself."
Ji Chicheng walked behind Ji Anning, and with a downward gaze from his elevated position, he looked at her commandingly.
Ji Anning turned her face away petulantly, refusing to look at him, "I’m not getting up."
"Really not getting up?" Ji Chicheng raised his eyebrows, his voice carrying a dangerous signal.
"Not getting up."
Unafraid, Ji Anning defiantly tilted her head back, her arms wrapped around her knees.
In front of anyone else, she had to pretend to be strong, pretend to be tough, pretend to be cold-hearted and ruthless, pretend that she didn’t care about anything, that nothing mattered.
She was tired, really tired, just wanted to act spoiled, to be spoiled by the uncle she loved dearly.
She wanted to feel his gentle indulgence, his helplessness towards her.
"Really not getting up, huh."
Ji Chicheng sneered, and the next second, his tall body suddenly squatted down, his hands grasping Ji Anning’s shoulders, pushing her against the wall and kissing her pouted lips.
Ji Anning’s eyes widened, it ca too quickly, she forgot to react, instinctively raising her hands, suspended in mid-air for a long ti.
The man’s lips and teeth was dominantly and crazily grinding, teasing her lips and tongue.
As her body grew hotter and her breathing more rapid, Ji Anning’s body gradually softened, the man’s large hands slowly sliding from her shoulders down.
Through the thick layers of clothing, he grabbed the softness at her chest.
Ji Anning’s body was almost paralyzed, her arms loosely wrapped around the man’s neck, panting softly beneath him.
"Still not getting up?"
Ji Chicheng’s lips suddenly retreated, his nose tip against Ji Anning’s, facing her with his blazing eyes, Ji Anning suddenly sobered a bit.
She shifted her body back a little, creating a slight distance from Ji Chicheng, then dared not look into his desire-filled, yearning eyes again.
"Uncle, let’s go upstairs, I’m really tired."
Ji Anning said softly, head bowed, biting her lip.
Ji Chicheng stared at her, his gaze deep.
After a while, he turned around, sat down on a stair below Ji Anning, back toward her, silent.
Ji Anning thought he was angry, reached out hesitantly, and patted his shoulder, "Uncle, what’s... what’s the matter?"
"I’ll carry you, one question for each floor, answer truthfully."
Ji Chicheng said, and without waiting for Ji Anning’s response, he directly grabbed her arms, wrapped them around his neck, then stood up using the stair railing for support.
Ji Anning was surprised, "Uncle, there are still thirteen floors to your place."
Ji Chicheng nodded, "Yes, so that’s thirteen questions."
Ji Anning pressed her lips together, feeling both anxious and anticipatory, just like the first ti they played the betting ga; anxious about what questions he might ask and anticipatory about what questions he might ask.
Thinking about this, Ji Chicheng had already climbed one floor, and stopping under the staircase leading to the thirty-second floor, he slightly turned his face and glanced sidelong at Ji Anning, asking, "Ji Anning, who do you love the most?"
Without hesitation, Ji Anning replied, "Uncle and Fenfen."
Regarding her answer, Ji Chicheng appeared indifferent, it was unclear whether he was satisfied or dissatisfied.
He continued climbing up, another floor, he stopped, "Ji Anning, who do you hate the most?"
"Uncle."
This answer as well was without the slightest hesitation.
Reviews
All reviews (0)