His tongue moved with a desperate urgency, exploring every fold, every curve, every hidden crevice. The more he tasted, the more he wanted. It was as if he had been starving his entire life, and only now had he discovered true taste.
Hei Fei's breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling as she surrendered to the sensations he was creating. And Feng Wei, for the first time in his life, felt a sense of power—not the kind that came from domination or control, but the kind that came from giving, from serving, from losing himself in the act of pleasuring another, doing something for someone else unconditionally selfishness.
The mist continued to rise, filling the air with its thick aroma, and Feng Wei drank it in, both literally and figuratively. He was no longer just a man—he was a vessel, a conduit for pleasure, for connection, for something far greater than himself.
