MTL - Accidentally Married Miss Empress - Chapter 28 (The 10,000-word update is the first

[Cross-species top love]
Don’t just pick up a strange woman and go home for the night, something will happen.
Qi Wenxi regrets it now.
The poor woman she kindly brought home is not as innocent and harmless as the surface,
On the contrary, the other party is very abnormal and everything is unknown.
The skin is cold, the voice is low, full of wildness, and it likes to eat raw food.
Even more like staring at her, sticking to her, touching her.
As spring approaches, all things recover.
Qi Wenxi found that the way the woman looked at her started to look wrong.

Qi Wenxi couldn’t take it anymore and wanted to escape, but he couldn’t escape at all. “Don’t look at me with such strange eyes, okay?”
Jing Lian stared at her with deep eyes: “As a partner, you must do your job well.”
Professor Qi: “…When did I become your partner?”
Whale: “If you’re shy, I’ll take you to the deep sea, where no one is there, you can let go.”
Qi Wenxi’s face was pale, does she want to dedicate her first time to this savage killer whale? !
…

[She is the abyss, the beast, and the sweetheart who is most tender to you. 】

Instructions for reading:
1. One of the female protagonists is the ancestor of the deep-sea overlord killer whale, S+ class staring at his wife and crazy, possessive, hungry and thirst.
2. Lack of love and acting skills to send a sick and charming ancestor & a veteran professor who is cold on the outside and soft on the inside [mild social fear]
3. This article is a two-way sweet pet, Su Shuang, 1v1, slow heat, micro-hunting
4. Pay attention to the scarf: Xia Suxi
5. Enter V on January 27, please support the genuine version.

Content tags: Qiangqiang, a soft spot, near the water tower, sweet text
Search keywords: Protagonist: Qi Wenxi, Jing Lian ┃ Supporting role: The next book “The Nightingale Escapes” Welcome to Collection ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

Once an imperial princess, now reborn among the lowest of s*aves of the nobility.

In a mass ambush at the Battle of the Gods, the four major guilds with all their armies surrounded one man alone: McRae, known by all players as the God of War.

But even the God of War could not survive alone against hundreds of attackers.

Yet, when McRae opened his eyes again, he’d returned to the first-day launch of the game, [Divine Domain]- and he still had his full-level character, with all classes available to him to switch freely between at any time.

With all his previous memories, McRae knew that their entire world would soon merge with the game world, where death would become permanent… And so he turned on Divine Domain once more– this time fully aware of every detail about the players, the treasures, and the game itself.

Before the four guilds were even formed, McRae would have a guild and an army of his own.

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.