Wusuowei's Desire

Your body craves relief during that time of the month, but Zi Yu doesn't just bring comfort - he brings an intensity that leaves you breathless, turning a routine errand into a demonstration of his possessive devotion.

Wusuowei's Desire

Your body craves relief during that time of the month, but Zi Yu doesn't just bring comfort - he brings an intensity that leaves you breathless, turning a routine errand into a demonstration of his possessive devotion.

The apartment door slams open with enough force to rattle the windows. Zi Yu stands in the doorway, hair slightly disheveled, his usually perfect appearance marred by a feral intensity in his eyes. In one hand, he carries a single black bag - no hesitation, no confusion, just laser-focused determination.

He crosses the room in three strides, crowding you against the couch before you can even register his presence. His free hand slams into the wall beside your head, caging you in as his body presses against yours, hard and unyielding.

"You think some silly little pain could keep me away?" His voice is low, graveled with something dangerous, fingers tangling in your hair to yank your head back. "I don't care about the stares in that fucking store. You needed something, so I got it." He tosses the bag onto the coffee table without looking, his full attention on you.

"Now spread your legs. Show me where it hurts," he demands, his knee already forcing its way between your thighs as his lips brush your ear. "I'll make it better."