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... his mouth with Yan Shuying's encouragement, but what he said was a bit confusing to Yan Shuyan. "Yan Yan, I said before If you want to pull you into a partnership, have you mentioned it to Mr. Zhou? "

Yan Shu froze for a moment, not knowing what he suddenly asked about this, but nodded in cooperation, "It seems to mention a sentence or two."

"Really" Yang Zifeng seemed a little excited.

Yan Shuyi glanced at him even more strangely, "We live together, he will not stay home al ...

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Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”

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My eyes brood with fear, gazing at the still-beating heart in his hand. “My Lord, pardon me but… is this the bloody proof you promised to show me?” I asked, my voice shook as I gulped down whilst struggling my trembling knees from giving away.

“Mhm… do you now believe I’m good at capturing hearts?” The silver-haired man, bearing those menacing pair of deep crimson eyes stared proudly at me after a nod. I gasped when he clenched his hand and squeezed the fresh heart to smithereen.

“Yes, milord. You’re good at it, literally.” I’m mortified, watching the pieces of the heart fall as he approached. His every step made me take a step back until my back reached a solid pillar.

“Huh,” Samael chuckled briefly, stopping in front of me. His long, pointy nails that were covered with blood traced my elbow down to my hand. Gently, he clipped my forefinger in between his, guiding it before his lips. “Did I pass your test, though?” He asked, the sharp tip of his nail played over the tip of my finger.

I stared at his penetrating gaze as I reluctantly answered, “Barely.”

He smirked, nodding in satisfaction before he pressed his nail on the tip of my forefinger that was quick to produce a drop of blood. “Such sweet aroma.” He whispered, placing my bleeding finger in his mouth and licked it with passion.

His menacing gaze never left mine as he consumed a bit of my blood. “Does that mean you’re accepting my invitation?” Keeping my finger in between his fangs, Samael inquired.

I bit my lower lip unconsciously, my heart within my chest drummed as my back broke into sweats. “But… I’m just…” I paused, hoping my answer would put an end to this. “… I’m just a human.”

Samael clicked his tongue, displeased at my response as he let my finger go. “No,” He whispered.

My entire body stiffened when he bent over, caressing my shoulder up to my neck by the apex of his nose, as his hot breaths prickled my skin.

“You're not just a mere human... you are my human.” He stressed before I sensed his lips part and the tip of his fangs against my skin.