So, I Will Become A Queen Through The Deaths Of My Husbands

Feet washing wasn't a miserable or difficult task, especially when one was holding a pair of smooth and delicate feet in his hands. Instead, it was an enjoyment. Mag recalled how those girls back on Earth had massaged him, and tried to make himself look more professional.

Maybe it was due to the warm water temperature, or maybe the pair of hands that were massaging her was a little naughty, but a blush appeared on Irina's face, and beads of sweat also appeared on her nose.

I didn't expect he's also quite good at washing feet apart from cooking. Seems like I have to let him massage my feet more in the future. Irina gazed at Mag as some tender feelings rippled through her heart. The hands that were holding her feet were so gentle and strong, and almost hotter than water temperature. They felt numb and electrifying when they caressed her skin. It made her want to escape and yet immersed in it.