Deep inside the dark ironwood wardrobe, Shuying clutched the silk of her black robe, her breath hitching as she watched her own daughter walk into the tiger's den wearing such a blatantly provocative outfit.
A mixture of maternal shame and intense, throbbing arousal pooled between her thighs as she pressed her face closer to the slatted wooden gaps.
The moment Wanru's eyes met Shen Yu's, a vivid, deep crimson flush crept up her neck and stained her cheeks.
She smiled shyly, her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of her white dress.
Usually, she was quite extroverted and boldly playful during their sessions, constantly pushing the boundaries of physical proximity.
But the visceral memory of the hoarse, breathless screams and the raw, heavy slaps she had overheard echoing from this very room last night had shattered her composure.
It had left her lower belly aching with a strange, heavy wetness all night.
