"Chen Ling, I am your master," Yaxi steadied her nerves, fixed him with an intense stare, and issued a cold reminder.
Chen Ling's eyes flickered faintly, leaving it unclear whether he was feigning distraction or genuinely snapping back to reality.
For a fleeting moment, the icy tension between them melted away, and the air warmed once more with the heat of their earlier desire.
Yet Chen Ling's gaze turned wistful as he murmured, "Hmm, I was lost in thought."
Yaxi couldn't unravel the storm of complex emotions swirling in his eyes.
She cut to the heart of it: "You don't like me going to Lu Ziyang?"
Chen Ling shook his head sensibly. "Do whatever you want."
Yaxi's heart chilled, and the faint thrill she'd felt, imagining he was jealous, evaporated entirely.
"Then, if you don't satisfy me in the future, I'll go to him. He may be dumb, but he's got a body packed with muscle—fucking him should feel pretty damn good."
Chen Ling's hand, gripping the bathtub, scraped hard against the porcelain edge, blood seeping from his fingertip.
Unbeknownst to her, Yaxi had grown addicted to flaunting her darkest malice and raw vulgarity in his presence.
She forced him into submission, bending him to her will, while also humiliating him and his friends to shove him away.
At times, even she couldn't tell if she craved Chen Ling or was desperate to escape him.
But deep down, she knew this was a kind of mental self-torture.
Ever since her parents left, she'd trained herself to dissect every grim possibility life could throw at her, shielding herself from the pain of shattered hopes.
She was a woman with no retreat—behind her lay a bottomless abyss, and if she stumbled into it, no one would give a damn.
Maybe she really ought to see a doctor.
She lifted her hand, reaching for the back of Chen Ling's head, stroking it gently.
A spark of confusion glinted in Chen Ling's eyes.
The next second, her fingers seized his hair.
With a push to the back of his head, his whole body lurched forward.
His face crashed into her chest, the intoxicating scent of her breasts flooding his senses—a soft, springy haven where her nipple hovered just two centimeters from his eyes.
In his hazy vision, it was pure provocation.
"Earlier, didn't you say you'd eat my tits later? Call me master, and I'll let you."
Chen Ling's eyes reddened as he rasped, "Master."
"Good boy. Eat them," Yaxi ordered, her voice icy.
Chen Ling extended his tongue, teasing the nipple before him, then latched on with a slow suck.
Mid-suck, he breathed out, "Master."
He nursed at her deliberately, wet sounds filling the air.
He'd just bathed her, so smearing saliva over her felt a little dirty.
So he used his mouth to "clean" her nipple again, only making it filthier in the process.
While laving beneath her left breast, he suddenly spotted a black tattoo.
Earlier, when her back was to him, her chest had concealed it—he hadn't noticed.
It looked like an apple, gnawed down to its core, with three red seeds stark against the design.
This wasn't the kind of tattoo a teenage girl would pick, but on Yaxi, it felt seamless, lending her an air of enigma.
Moments later, both his hands were back on her breasts, kneading them in tight, inward circles.
He grabbed handfuls, shoving them up toward her collarbone, burying his face in her tits—licking from left to right, then clamping onto a nipple, engulfing the flesh with bold, hungry sucks.
The hand clutching his hair tightened its grip, and Chen Ling's hands shifted to pinch her waist.
It was slender and soft there; the rhythm of its quivers told him exactly how aroused his master was.
"Master," he said, giving her waist another pinch before sliding his hand lower, frantically groping her ass.
Sure enough, the girl let out a whimper, arched her neck, and thrust her chest deeper into his mouth.
He played the part of obsession—sucking her breasts with fervor, moaning "your tits smell so good" in a daze, using his mouth to tease and torment Yaxi inside and out.
"Master, don't go looking for other dogs."
He savagely squeezed her plump, tender ass cheeks together, then bit down on her right nipple.
Her body jolted hard, and he quickly dragged his tongue over it with heavy pressure before flicking it rapidly.
His tongue moved too fast—her first time having her breasts licked, and the sensation overwhelmed her.
She squirmed her hips in his palm, trying to grind her pussy's inner walls together.
Each time she edged back to escape his mouth, he yanked her close again, biting her nipple until she nearly screamed.
Yaxi's hand gripped his shoulder, discovering it wasn't frail—tense muscles burned hot beneath her touch.