Lin Feng's eyes traveled lower, drinking her in greedily.
Her breasts were magnificent… huge, full, and perfectly rounded, rising and falling with her quickened breaths.
They were so soft and inviting that he could easily bury his face between them and lose himself forever, drowning happily in their warmth and scent.
He imagined the weight of them in his palms, the way they would spill over his fingers.
Lower still, her waist dipped into a graceful curve before flaring out into shapely hips and long, toned legs that seemed endless.
Between her thighs lay her most intimate treasure: her sweet, precious pink flower, already glistening with arousal, delicate petals slightly parted as if in invitation.
It was as beautiful and tempting as the rest of her, a sight that could drive any man to madness.
Countless men would die, beg, or kill without hesitation for even a single night with Ye Jian.
They would sacrifice everything, believing it worth any price, any consequence.
