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Summary
The air in the private lounge was thick with the scent of expensive bourbon and the heavy, lingering musk of the "Spa." For Nailong, every breath was a struggle. His world had narrowed down to the sensation of the plush carpet beneath his knees and the agonizing restriction of the small, steel cage that reminded him with every heartbeat of who he belonged to.
Years ago, Nailong had been the king of the arena. His fingers had moved with lightning speed across a keyboard, his voice commanding entire teams to victory under the roar of thousands of fans. Now, the only sound he was permitted to make was a desperate whine, caught in the back of his throat, stifled by the invisible weight of Shuyuan’s command.
"Look at him," Shuyuan’s voice drifted down, smooth and cold as silk. A hand settled heavily on Nailong’s head, fingers treading through his hair with a possessiveness that made Nailong’s vision swim. "He used to have such a sharp tongue. Now? He can’t even look up without permission."
Series
- Part 20 of Professional Gamers Having 'Fun'
- Language:
- English
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- 3,495
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