He called her name over and over, but said nothing else.
Some emotions require a respectable identity and occasion to express, yet Geoffrey had lost such opportunities.
He was a traveler crawling in the mud, and Roy reached out to pull him up. But he still stood on the filthy, stinking road, deeply mired, his body a delicate hollow shell.
Geoffrey picked up Roy, turned and walked to the operation table, placing her on it. Facing away from Theodore, he completely shielded the girl's body and continued thrusting.
Roy clung to his back, her legs resting on his waist, moaning with pleasure.
Her bare white feet swayed with the movements, sometimes tensing and trembling, highlighting the intensity and joy of their lovemaking.
Theodore closed his eyes.
He loathed avoidance and weakness, so whether in the border interrogation room or in this room, he had never looked away.
However, the physiological and psychological torment had already eroded his self-control.
