Wu Haoyu's POV:
Then Huang Yanyan's hand flashed out in a blur, deftly plucking the tumbler of scotch from my slackened grip. She regarded the amber liquid with an appraising look before tossing back a healthy swig, seemingly unbothered by the harsh burn.
"Easy there, tiger." That raspy purr sparked fresh tendrils of blazing heat low in my belly.
Somehow, the deliberately coarse phrasing only heightened the dizzying eroticism swirling through the charged ether between us. I drank in the sight of Huang Yanyan's soft, fleshy curves barely contained by those scandalously tiny shorts and midriff top. Her ample hips flared out in an hourglass swell, dimpled flesh spilling over the tattered denim in toe-curlingly lush undulations.
I fought to maintain some semblance of lofty detachment in the face of her smoldering provocation, even as my eyes traced the gentle ballet of her plump stomach with each breath.
