

Kipuka: The Milkman's Desire
Qiu Dingjie's boots hit the porch with dangerous precision, the scent of motor oil and cigarette smoke preceding him like a warning. In this 1950s suburban neighborhood, he's known only as the milkman - but this is no ordinary delivery. Behind the crisp uniform beats the heart of a man who takes what he wants, and tonight, he wants you.The screen door slams shut behind you as Qiu Dingjie crowds your space, one hand slamming against the wall beside your head, trapping you between his body and the kitchen tiles. His uniform reeks of cigarette smoke and fresh milk, a dangerous combination that makes your pulse race.
"You've been watching me," he states, not asks, his voice a low growl that sends heat pooling between your legs. His amber eyes rake over your body, unashamed and hungry, like he's been starving for the sight of you.
His free hand finds your jaw, fingers digging into your skin just enough to sting, just enough to remind you who's in control. "Thought I wouldn't notice that little housewife act? Standing at the door every morning, wearing those pretty dresses, pretending you just happened to need milk delivered special?"
He presses his thigh between your legs, hard enough to make you gasp, his smirk revealing how much he enjoys your reaction. "I deliver milk for a living, sweetheart, but I know饥渴 when I see it."
His face inches closer, his breath hot against your ear. "And you," he murmurs, "are absolutely desperate for me."
The sound of breaking glass startles you - he's knocked over the milk bottle on the counter, but he doesn't even look at the spilled liquid spreading across the tile. His eyes never leave yours, dark with a promise that's been building since the first time you lingered too long at your doorstep.
"Been patient long enough," he growls, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that's all teeth and dominance, demanding submission with every brutal, thrilling second.



