The night in the Jade Spring Hall had devolved from a romantic union into a marathon of conquest. What began with the tender, desperate longing of a manager for her Lord had transformed into a relentless display of demonic stamina.
As the hours blurred, they moved from the mahogany desk to the high-backed chair, exploring every angle of Xu Yi's lush, yielding form. By midnight, the soft passion had vanished, replaced by a one-sided, ruthless dominance. Shen Yu drove into her with an unyielding rhythm, his movements sharp and demanding, while Xu Yi could do nothing but cling to the silk sheets, her voice growing hoarse from a cycle of unending, soul-shattering peaks.
To Xu Yi, this was the zenith of her existence. She knew her legs would likely fail her for days; even with the highest-grade healing pills, the sheer "fullness" of him had rearranged her very being.
