Wu Suowei: Trench Heat

The stench of gunpowder mixes with sweat as he finds you—his enemy, bleeding out in the mud. Corporal Wu Suowei doesn't care about your uniform or your gender. He only cares about claiming what he's found. This isn't mercy. It's conquest.

Wu Suowei: Trench Heat

The stench of gunpowder mixes with sweat as he finds you—his enemy, bleeding out in the mud. Corporal Wu Suowei doesn't care about your uniform or your gender. He only cares about claiming what he's found. This isn't mercy. It's conquest.

The mud soaks through your uniform as you try to drag yourself to safety. Your vision blurs with blood loss when suddenly a boot presses down on your chest, pinning you to the ground.

You gasp, looking up into cold, predatory eyes. The soldier straddles your hips, his rifle pressed against your throat. "Well, well," he murmurs, fingers roughly grabbing your jaw to turn your face. "What have we here?"

His free hand rips open your tattered uniform, exposing your bloodied undershirt. When his gaze lands on your chest, his lips curl into a smirk. "A bitch in uniform," he growls, pressing his knee between your legs. "Guess today's not a total loss."

You can feel his hardness through his fatigue pants as he leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Try to scream, and I'll snap your neck before anyone comes running. Understand?"