"Keep playing with them," she repeated, voice low and commanding, hips beginning a slow roll. "Don't get shy on me now."
He obeyed.
His hands were trembling but his grip was sure, thumbs circling her nipples in the rhythm she had taught him, kneading the soft weight of her breasts with careful hands while she moved above him in long, unhurried strokes that dragged a sound out of him he had never made before in his life.
It was not a dignified sound.
Bai Yue smiled at him like it was the best thing she had ever heard.
"There," she murmured. "There you are."
She braced her palms flat on his chest and found her pace, the slow roll of her hips deepening into something more searching.
She was wet, incredibly so, slick heat gripping him with every downward press, and Yàn Shū's fingers tightened on her breasts purely on instinct, squeezing harder than he meant to.
She made a sound low in her throat and her hips snapped forward.
"Again," she said. "Harder."
"I don't want to hurt—"
