Admit it?
The audacity of this man, this... impostor, to presume he could unravel me with such base manipulations.
My cunt—oh, how I loathed the word even as it echoed in my thoughts—clenched involuntarily around his invading fingers, a traitorous spasm that sent a fresh wave of slick warmth coating his hand.
The wet schlk-schlk-schlk filled the chamber like a profane rhythm, each thrust curling deeper, brushing against walls I had never known could ignite such fire.
His thumb flicked my clit again, sharp and insistent, each snap like a spark on dry tinder, building that infernal pressure until my thighs quivered despite my iron will.
Born for this? Preposterous.
I was Elder Feng Lianhua, forged in the crucibles of Nascent Soul tribulations, not some vessel destined for carnal debasement.
Yet the heat... it spread like venom through my veins, my skin flushing beneath the faint curls he toyed with, tugging them as if they were chains binding me to this degradation.
