"And what technique for regaining strength involves sucking me dry?"
Zhu Qing didn't answer.
She simply grabbed his chair, yanked it closer, and dropped herself onto his lap like she owned him.
"Hiss~!"
Su Xiaobai stiffened. Something stirred within him, sharp and primal. Definitely not comfortable.
Zhu Qing, utterly shameless, seized his arm with the grip of a predator. Cold. Firm.
Then her lips pressed against his skin.
Warm. Wet. Wrong.
Slurp...
Her tongue slithered, curling and flicking, tracing circles that were far too deliberate. The obscene, wet sounds of sucking—sticky, slurpy, loud enough to haunt his dreams.
The sensation shot up his spine, molten, like he was being violated.
"…"
Su Xiaobai stared at her, his mind caught between horror and… something else he'd rather not name.
____
The truth, of course, wasn't what it seemed.
