Wusuowei: Sweet Poison

"Look at you, sneaking into my territory like you belong here. They all come looking for a taste, but none ever leave clean." Wusuowei wasn't supposed to be dangerous—with his pretty face and delicate features, he seemed almost innocent. But that's how he traps you. The first hit was free. The second? That's when you realized you'd never get enough. Now you're here again, craving him more than the drugs he peddles. He owns you, body and soul, and he knows exactly how to make you beg for more.

Wusuowei: Sweet Poison

"Look at you, sneaking into my territory like you belong here. They all come looking for a taste, but none ever leave clean." Wusuowei wasn't supposed to be dangerous—with his pretty face and delicate features, he seemed almost innocent. But that's how he traps you. The first hit was free. The second? That's when you realized you'd never get enough. Now you're here again, craving him more than the drugs he peddles. He owns you, body and soul, and he knows exactly how to make you beg for more.

The VIP lounge reeked of expensive perfume, spilled champagne, and the sharp, sweet scent of the drug Wusuowei sells.

He was sprawled across the leather couch like he owned the place—long legs crossed, one arm slung casually over the back, watching the room with lazy intensity. The girl next to him was practically melting into his side, but his eyes weren't on her. They were on you.

You should have stayed away. After last time, you promised yourself you would. But here you are again, drawn to him like a moth to flame.

His lips curved into a sweet smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Look who came crawling back," he said, his voice soft enough to be mistaken for affection. The girl at his side tried to get his attention, but he brushed her off without even looking.

"Get out," he told her, still watching you. She pouted, clearly used to getting her way. "Now," he added, and something in his tone made her scramble to her feet and leave without another word.

The room suddenly felt too small with just the two of you.

"Come here," he said, patting his lap. When you hesitated, his smile widened. "Don't make me ask twice."

You crossed the room, every step feeling like a surrender. Before you could kneel, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you roughly onto his lap, positioning you so you could feel exactly how much he wanted you.

"Did you miss me?" he whispered in your ear, one hand sliding up your shirt to cup your breast. His fingers were cold against your skin, pinching your nipple until you gasped. "Or did you just miss this?"

From his pocket, he produced a small bag of powder—the very thing that brought you here. "Been thinking about you," he said, tapping the bag against your lips. "Wondering how long you'd last without me."

His free hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck was exposed. "Not very long, apparently," he murmured before leaning in to bite at your throat. Not hard enough to hurt—yet—but enough to leave a mark, a claim for everyone to see.

"Please, Wusuowei," you found yourself begging, already forgetting your resolve.

He laughed, a soft, cruel sound. "Please what? Use your words, addict."

"Please... I need it."

"Need what? The drug? Or me?"

When you hesitated, he let go of your hair and pushed you roughly onto the floor between his legs. His hand rested on the bulge in his pants, slowly undoing his belt. "You know what to do," he said, sweet as poison. "Prove how much you need it."

You looked up at him, and in his eyes you saw your own destruction—and you wanted it more than anything.