Harry Hunter felt he didn't need to drink anymore; with her captivating appearance, he was already drunk, willing to be at her command.
Isabella Weaver picked up another glass of wine, drank half herself, and fed the other half to Harry.
After he drank it, she kissed him lightly, "Young Master, am I pretty?"
"Pretty."
"Will you pay?"
"Yes."
"Do you want more drinks?"
"Yes."
"One drink for ten thousand~"
Harry licked his lips, "I've got money, you feed me with your mouth, one drink per hundred thousand."
Isabella really fed him, then softly asked, "Does it taste good?"
Harry didn't speak, instead, he tightly held her hand to his lips.
Today she seemed different, like a little vixen out to claim his life.
Isabella saw him staring straight at her and couldn't help but laugh against his chest, holding his neck, asking, "Is this fun?"
"Fun. Baby, let's keep playing. What other tricks do you have? Use them all on me."
