The kiss was a declaration of war. It was not the tender exploration of a lover, but the brutal, claiming assault of a conqueror. Wang Jian's mouth crushed Chen Ying's rosy, plump lips, silencing her panicked protests with a force that was absolute. He was a Foundation Establishment expert, his Qi a vast, crushing sea compared to her recently re-cultivated Tenth Stage Qi Condensation pool. The power difference was a chasm, and he made her feel every inch of its terrifying depth.
She struggled, her hands pushing futilely against the granite wall of his chest. A whimper of outrage and pain escaped her as his tongue, like a conquering serpent, forced its way past her teeth, plundering the sweet, terrified recesses of her mouth. It was a violation so profound, so intimate, that it sent a shudder of pure, helpless fury through her entire being.
