I Married a Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating

Mu Wanwan didn't hesitate anymore, stepped carefully on the soft mattress, gently lifted the quilt on the outside, and slowly sat down in the quilt.

Only one of the lights was turned off by her. About two or three o'clock in the morning, it was dark outside, and only a trace of dim light remained in the entire room.

Mu Wanwan lay down, her long and tired waist and legs touched the soft quilt, and she couldn't help but let out a sigh. The originally cool quilt was stained with body temperature, and it became hot bit by bit, just like her cheeks were stained with crimson.

Although she told herself to ignore the certain dragon sleeping next to her, in the quiet space, Mr. Long's very weak breathing was so obvious that Mu Wanwan couldn't help turning her head and quietly glanced at him.

Mr. Long was lying motionless on the red bed, well-behaved. From her perspective, he could only see half of the hard-lined cheeks and the jealous eyelashes, which were curvy and thick.

Mu Wanwan silently reached out and touched his eyelashes, then silently turned his head.

It's probably impossible for her to have long and curled eyelashes in her life...

Mu Wanwan would have thought that she could not sleep. After all, for the first time in her life, she slept in a bed with the opposite sex, but soon she fell into a dark dreamland. Those wild thoughts didn’t even have room to play, and she was exhausted. Pressed on the bed and rubbed it.

She slept soundly, unable to lift a tired finger, lying on the bed peacefully.

The room became quiet for a while. In the quiet room, a faint mist overflowed from the low-grade spirit stone that Mu Wanwan placed next to Mr. Long's ear, and then disappeared into the tyrant's body like water vapor.

However, it was obvious that the spiritual power in the lower-grade spirit stone was too little. This process was short and terrifying, and almost for a moment, the originally slightly transparent lower-grade spirit stone shattered into powder.

The room fell into a terrible silence again, which lasted a long time.

Perhaps it was about dawn when Mr. Long's fingers moved slightly.

Under the body is a soft bedding. The original painful and itchy tail has also been dealt with. The tyrant can feel a layer of low-grade ointment applied on it, and the sticky feeling on his face has also disappeared, probably by someone. Wipe your face.

There was a hint of softness in the bottom of his heart, because the dried up body had so little spiritual energy nourishment, he had the opportunity to do his best to connect a small piece of broken pronucleus, dispelling a curse, and alleviating some pain.

original…

Does she really dislike him?

Mr. Long couldn't tell the feeling in his heart, and she would not dislike him with his embarrassed and dirty tail.

With a movement in his heart, a strand of divine consciousness slowly diffused, slowly scanning everything around him.

Last time, he was too narrow.

As soon as the consciousness touched the red quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks, Mr. Long seemed to be scalded by something, and he took back the consciousness, his heart beating violently after a long time...

She, how can she...

It turns out that the soft thing under him is not only a simple quilt, but a quilt?

Did she accept herself and want to be with herself...?

The ears were very hot, and the pain of the meridians was not as good as the beating heartbeat for the first time. Mr. Long tentatively, slowly, again withdrew a ray of spiritual consciousness, slowly from the red joy that made him so ashamed. Ripples away.

The room is still a familiar room, the jade bed is also the one he often sleeps, but there are two more dazzling quilts on it, and in another quilt not far from him, there is a completely unguarded, sleeping soundly. Sweet people.

The blood flows slowly. If Mu Wanwan is awake, if the black and red curse mark is not so obvious, she must be able to find that Mr. Long’s exposed face, neck, and two ears have all become The pink is about to advance into a crimson color.

She slept very quietly next to a mongrel dragon who was considered disabled and disgusting by everyone, and a tyrant who was considered cruel and murderous by everyone.

Mr. Long struggled to slowly move his divine consciousness, and that wisp of divine consciousness, lighter than the air, slowly slid from Muwan's neck, all the way across her cheeks, nose tip, eyelashes, forehead...

She is not particularly good-looking.

The tyrant who had seen countless flattering beauties at his peak, but still a single dragon, thought red.

She shouldn’t be pretty...

But the only divine consciousness that Mr. Silk Dragon could use, he didn’t know if he was out of control, slowly sliding over Mu Wanwan’s peacefully asleep cheeks, and finally stayed on her dry lips, trembling, falling down. It blows like a feather, and then...

It disappeared suddenly as if it had never appeared before.

His cheeks were so hot that Mr. Long was a little dizzy. While suppressing the pain that was gradually rising in his body, he blushed and thought vaguely at the roots of his ears...

Is this what it feels like to kiss your wife?

It's really different.