Zhao Yiming clenched his jaw, face burning—not from shame, but because every damn nerve in his body was on fire.
Blood rushed south so fast it made him dizzy. Madam Ruan's hand wasn't just teasing anymore.
No, she was gripping his cock like he belonged to her. Like he was her private toy, ready to be unwrapped and devoured here and now.
'Damn you, perverted God! Fine, I'm a pervert now!!!' he screamed in his head, too far gone to care. His balls felt like they were going to explode.
His lips curled into a crooked smirk, voice dropping low and dangerous. "Oh? You want me that much, huh?" he muttered, eyes locking with hers.
"Then why don't you blow me right here... right now?"
Madam Ruan's pupils dilated. She didn't flinch or blink. No, this wasn't a surprise. She looks at him with hunger.
She looked like she'd just been handed a gourmet meal with gold on top—and he was the main course.
