Jian had been worshipped for half his life... But not like this. Not like he was something sacred and sinful all at once.
Her grip was gentle but firm as she stroked his length. Her gaze held his captive, watching him react to her touch. How his pupils dilated, his eyes grew hooded and his breaths came in quiet gasps.
His mind grew fuzzy with the sensations flooding him. All he could see was her, all he could feel was the jolts of pleasure her touch stirred.
Xenon whispered guidance from behind, pressing kisses down the curve of her back.
Not like she needed it. She handled him so expertly, Jian could have sworn she had learnt his body's needs better than he knew them. Her pace, her rhythm, every stroke, every time she tightened her hold or upped her pressure,
