Wu Qiong's gaze wandered between Chen Nan's scorching hefty object and those eyes brimming with desire, her heartbeat thunderously loud.
She never thought she'd be in such a situation, yet the pulse from her palm seemed magical, making it impossible for her to pull away.
"I... I can't..." she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper, her cheeks burning red.
Chen Nan gently lifted her chin, his thumb stroking her moist lips: "Open your mouth, take it slow."
Wu Qiong hesitated for a moment, then finally slowly raised her head.
When the salty-smelling tip touched her lips, she instinctively shrank back, but Chen Nan held her nape firmly.
"Just a taste..." he coaxed, his voice husky beyond recognition.
Wu Qiong tentatively extended her tongue, lightly sweeping the liquid seeping from the tip.
The taste was stronger than she imagined, carrying a distinctive male musk that made her tremble all over.
