In Chester Lynch's eyes, there was a clear mix of desire and restraint at this moment.
"I will take responsibility for you."
"..." Responsible, my ass!
He seemed to be on the edge of reason, his bloodshot eyes indicating he could lose control and become animalistic at any moment.
Just as he couldn't hold back any longer and leaned in to kiss him, South Grant turned his head away and loudly cursed:
"Chester Lynch, I'm a man, what the hell are you taking responsibility for!"
After shouting, South Grant felt a sharp pain on his neck.
As he turned his face aside, Chester's burning lips landed on South's neck.
At this moment, Chester Lynch was like a man who had walked through the desert for three days and nights, finally finding a spring, greedily absorbing the life-saving water.
Fragrant, soft, sweet.
How could he possibly stop?
South Grant gasped from his suction, only able to raise his leg to kick him.
