Spoil My Luckiest Wife

Liz Tuccillo's body felt damp and sticky, and she could not tell if it was sweat or water.

With her brows furrowed, she opened her eyes in a daze.

A tall slender figure became clear in her sight.

The look in the eyes belonging to that figure was as indifferent as a serene lake, and the pupils were as deep as there was a galaxy inside.

His brows were delicate, his nose was high-bridged, his countenance was fair and smooth, and his thin lips were slightly pursed.

It was a perfect face, giving off a noble, graceful vibe.

Meanwhile, his expression was tinged with an imperceptible touch of disappointment.

Greg Behrendt!

It was him!

How could it be? Was not he dead?

Liz's heart abruptly hurt like someone was poking it with needles.

Was this a dream?

Was this momentary recovery of consciousness before death?

No matter what, if she could see Greg again, she would never let him go!

"Greg!"

Liz called out to the man, then hooked his neck with her arms and tilted her head to move towards his thin lips.

"You! Ugh!"

Greg's mouth was covered by the woman's before he could come to his senses.

Liz's Lips were as soft as rose petals with the sweet scent of female breathing. The kissing was like a deadly poison, taking away the man's reason.

After letting go of her mouth, Liz gasped for air.

Although they had been married for years, they seldom kissed, and Liz still had no idea how to keep breathing while kissing.

Her cheeks were burning hot.

It was the first time she took the initiative to kiss him.

It felt good with sweetness left between her lips and teeth.

Thank the Lord for giving her such a pleasant dream before her death.

"You just fell in the river. Did you get water in your head?"

Greg's voice was pleasing to the ear.

With her eyes narrowed, Liz fell to the ground with enjoyment.

It was time to die eventually.

A cold finger poked her forehead non-stop.

And a mellow, somewhat interrogative voice sounded.

"Liz, what the hell are you doing?"