The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

The door was slammed shut, the click of the lock echoing loudly in the quiet room, accompanied by rapid breathing.

Shen Qingyao's back was pressed against the door panel, and before she could even stand up straight, Meng Jiangyu's kiss landed on her.

The burning heat, reeking of alcohol, was forceful and urgent; it pried open her lips and teeth, stealing the air from her mouth.

His hands gripped her waist with such force that it felt as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones. His burning palms pressed against her delicate skin, causing her to tremble slightly.

Shen Qingyao raised her hand to hook her neck, and responded by standing on tiptoe. Her skirt was pushed open by his knee, and their body temperatures mingled, burning intensely.

Meng Jiangyu bent down, his arms smoothly passing under Shen Qingyao's body, and with a little effort, he lifted her up steadily.

She instinctively tightened her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs around his waist and abdomen, and gently rubbed her ankles against his lower back.

He walked steadily to the dressing table, raised his hand to move the scattered combs and jewelry aside, making room for her, and then carefully placed her on it.

The cool mirror surface pressed against her back, causing Shen Qingyao to tremble slightly. Before she could utter a sound, Meng Jiangyu leaned closer, took a long stride, and firmly wedged between her legs, trapping her tightly between himself and the dressing table.

His palm pressed against the inside of her thigh, his fingertips applying slight pressure to spread her legs wider. His forehead touched hers, his hot breath brushing against her lips: "Don't look away, look at me."

He leaned down, his warm breath brushing over her reddened earlobe before his fingertips slowly moved upwards along the inside of her bare thighs, the pressure carrying just the right amount of caress, causing her tense calves to tremble slightly.

His lips brushed against her jawline, moving downwards to gently nibble on the soft flesh of her neck, leaving faint red marks. His tongue then licked over it meticulously, as if to soothe her, or as if to declare everything.

With his other hand, he held the back of her neck, his thumb caressing her delicate skin. With a little force, he forced her to tilt her head back, then precisely captured her lips, kissing her deeply and intensely, his tongue hooking and rubbing against her soft tongue, not letting go of a single moment of breathlessness.

He tightened his grip on the back of her neck, forcing her lips to press even closer to his. Chest to chest, their burning body heat almost scorched through their clothes, their heartbeats became erratic, and they couldn't tell whose voice was more rapid.

His knee, wedged between her legs, pushed up slightly, forcing her to open her legs completely. Her body leaned forward instinctively, and she became as soft as spring water, pressing herself tightly against his chest.

He stepped back slightly, his fingertips caressing her reddened lips, his eyes swirling with an intense, possessive desire, his voice hoarse as if laced with alcohol: "Shen Qingyao, you are mine, from head to toe, inside and out, you can only be mine."

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against the tip of her nose, his breath hot and scalding: "You'll never get rid of me in this lifetime."

He nibbled on her earlobe, his tone carrying a hint of obsessive certainty: "Remember this, your scent, your warmth, everything about you, can only be possessed by me alone."

Meng Jiangyu scooped her up in his arms and strode toward the soft bed. He stumbled and knocked over a glass lamp on the table, the sound of it shattering ringing out. He lowered his head and nibbled at her earlobe, his voice hoarse and unnatural: "Baby, you're so delicious."

Shen Qingyao pressed her fingertips against his chest, gently pushing him away by half an inch. Her breathing was erratic, but a sly smile played in her eyes: "What's the rush? Isn't Mr. Meng the one who values ​​gradual progress the most?"

"You've gotten so bold now!" Meng Jiangyu's Adam's apple bobbed as he leaned down and bit her lower lip, the force of which was a punishing, light grinding, yet he couldn't bear to really hurt her.

Meng Jiangyu's voice was low and hoarse, almost muffled: "Taking things step by step is for others, but I don't have that patience for you."

She turned her head away, her fingertips tracing the taut line of his jaw, her tone softening, filled with alluring tenderness: "What I'm doing is... taking advantage of his favor...!"

Before she could finish speaking, he took the soft flesh of her neck into his mouth and kissed her gently all the way down.

Meng Jiangyu chuckled softly against her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine: "Now, you still have the mind to negotiate with me?"

"I...!" Her fingertips were weak, and her palm against his heart was burning hot. Meng Jiangyu took the opportunity to grab her wrist, his fingertips caressing the protruding knuckles on her wrist, and then he lowered his head to kiss the corner of her reddened eyes.

The delicate kisses fell lightly and frequently, sliding from the corners of his eyes to the bridge of his nose, and then to his trembling lips. He was no longer as eager as before.

Instead, he slowly and deliberately caressed her, his tongue hooking her soft tongue and gently licking it, causing Shen Qingyao to tremble slightly all over. Her hand, which was gripping the collar of his sweater, tightened unconsciously, and her knuckles turned white.

Meng Jiangyu's other hand moved up her waistline, his palm resting on the delicate skin of her back. His movements unconsciously softened, carrying an almost devout tenderness.

He pulled her closer, chest to chest, feeling each other's heart pounding like drums, their hot breaths mingling. He pressed his forehead against hers, his hoarse voice husky with suppressed emotion: "Baby, call me daddy."

Shen Qingyao's fingertips dug into the muscles of his back, and he swallowed her soft sobs.

Meng Jiangyu deepened the kiss by cradling the back of her neck, while his other hand slowly moved upwards along her waistline, his fingertips brushing against her delicate skin beneath her clothes, causing her to tremble.

He picked her up horizontally, and as he turned around, his knees pushed aside the messy bedding. He then bent down and gently placed her among the soft blankets.

The warm silk fabric clung to her burning skin, and she instinctively flinched. Meng Jiangyu then covered her, his abs pressed against her front, his scalding body heat making her feel as if she were burning up.

His kiss was heavy and urgent, traveling down from the corner of her reddened eyes, across her trembling lips and slender neck, finally stopping at her collarbone, where he gently bit it, eliciting a suppressed moan from her.

Shen Qingyao raised her hand and hooked it around his neck, her fingertips tracing his short hair, stroking it haphazardly, her body involuntarily pressing closer to him, making comfortable sounds.

Meng Jiangyu chuckled softly, his voice hoarse beyond belief. His movements were filled with an impatient possessiveness, yet the moment he touched her skin, he softened all his strength.

His fingertips hooked around her buttons, the metal clasps clinking softly, their mingling with their disordered breathing, making a distinctly clear sound in the quiet room.

Shen Qingyao tilted her head back, her neck forming a slender curve, her fingertips gripping the bed sheet beneath her tightly.

Meng Jiangyu's kiss was heavy and hot, moving down her delicate collarbone and gently caressing her heart.

His palm rested on the skin of her lower back, the pressure carrying an undeniable possessiveness, his fingertips gently caressing her, as if soothing her, or as if reverently treasuring her.

Shen Qingyao felt weak all over, her consciousness fading under the burning heat of his body. She turned her head away, her lips brushing against his temple, soft sobs mixed with moans escaping from her lips.

Meng Jiangyu's low, husky voice whispered in her ear, heavy with breath: "Shen Qingyao...you're mine."

He leaned down, his burning chest pressed tightly against hers, clearly feeling the touch of every inch of their skin and the resonance of every heartbeat.

Wherever their fingertips touched, a wildfire ignited, burning away all reason, leaving only their burning breaths and uncontrollable descent into passion.

Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a hazy, silvery glow onto the disheveled bedding, stretching the intertwined shadows long and tender.

A faint fragrance lingered in the air, mixed with the burning heat of passion, so warm it made one drowsy.

"Baby, let's change positions!"

The indoor temperature was set just right, and the warm air from the vents brushed against their sweaty temples.

Shen Qingyao's hair, scattered on the pillow, was damp with a thin layer of sweat and clung to her neck, rising and falling slightly with her shallow breaths.

Meng Jiangyu's arms were still wrapped around her waist, his palms pressed against the skin of her lower back.