Within the luxurious lounge, the relentless storm of carnal depravity finally began to plateau as midnight arrived.
For hours, Shen Yu had ruthlessly broken each of the five socialites, alternating between their tight, weeping channels and overstimulated mouths with the monstrous stamina of his restructured Foundation Establishment physique.
Now, the Golden Paragon sat regally back against the silk cushions of the divan. His sculpted, marble-like torso was entirely drenched in a thick sheen of sweat, laced with the mixed fluids of himself and the high-born heiresses swarming his feet.
He picked up a jade goblet of spiritual water, draining it in a single, throat-clearing swallow.
Setting the cup down, his piercing golden eyes scanned the floor. The scene was a chaotic masterpiece of complete submission.
