When Hirvan came back to the room, his face was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and he was struggling to breathe steadily. Walking with that thing inside him had been an entirely new kind of torture, making each step a reminder of his predicament. A cold shiver ran through his body as the pain and desire filled him.
Now, standing before the two men, who were watching him with amusement, he felt a deep shame.
Fu Yan and Lu Hanbing leaned casually against the wall, their arms crossed, gazing at him with interest as if he were an amusing sight. Fu Yan's expression was one of gleeful mischief, his eyes glittering, while Lu Hanbing's calm assessing gaze hinted at something equally dangerous but more calculated.
Hirvan's mouth twitched in irritation. The collar, now damp from his shower and his deliberate tightening, made him feel as if he were choking. The discomfort was unbearable, but he endured it, hoping to mask his own desire and lust from their watchful eyes.
