Arslan didn't say anything. He kept turning over the meat on the stove with a knife, picking some good ones and putting them on the little emperor's dishes, but he barely ate them, as if he was born to do so. Do these.
Spencer had already been smoked out by the smell of mutton that filled the room. At this time, there were only two of them in the room, so Finn could be so unbridled, taking off his clothes and eating as much as he wanted.
Arslan's eyes lingered back and forth on the snow-white neck exposed under Finn's long hair, and then looked at the small pink-white ears, and his Adam's apple moved unconsciously.
After finally having a satisfying meal, Finn was in a very good mood. He held a cup of tea and sat down to drink slowly. His eyes wandered around the empty room and then fell back on Arslan.
As a fierce man on the grassland, Arslan is not as bold as he looks when he eats. Instead, he is orderly and orderly, with small movements and fast eating speed. Finn watched as the bowl of raw meat became less and less. Not even the last bit is left.
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