The relentless, wet squelching of her mouth against his shaft echoed rhythmically against the soundproofed walls of the cabin for over fifteen intense minutes.
By now, Meng Yan's plush lips had become thoroughly bruised and swollen from the friction of his immense girth, and her hazel eyes were completely hazy, dilated with a primal, suffocating need for his seed.
Her jaw ached, her breathing was a series of ragged, desperate wheezes through her nose, but she refused to slow down, her tongue frantic and unyielding.
Shen Yu looked down at her thoroughly ruined, submissive expression. The continuous, tight friction of her throat paired with the intoxicating scent of her arousal in the cramped carriage finally pushed his newly refined, potent essence to its absolute limit.
His muscles coiled tight, his fingers embedding deeply into her hair, pinning her head firmly in place.
"Take it all, Yan'er," he growled, his voice dropping into a dark, commanding register.
