The warmth of it splashed against his skin, the sight of Yu Xi coming untouched, fucking himself on his dick, was the most seductive thing Jian Ci had ever seen. The clenching around him was relentless, rhythmic pulses wringing him mercilessly.
It was too much. The coiled tension in Jian Ci's gut snapped.
With a growl that was almost animal, he flipped them, pinning Yu Xi's spent, trembling body into the mattress. He didn't pull out.
His hands, which had been fists at his sides, shot out. He grabbed Yu Xi's wrists, his grip iron-tight, and pinned them to the mattress on either side of Yu Xi's head. The move was sudden, possessive, desperate. Yu Xi's breath caught, not in fear, but in a sharp spike of heat. The raw display of strength, the complete lack of control, it was fucking terrifying and unbelievably hot.
