The air inside the private sleeping quarters of the Fragrance Melody Sect Leader was heavy, saturated with a thick, cloying mixture of musk, sweat, and the lingering, metallic tang of arousal. The room, usually a sanctuary of pristine meditation and solitude, had been transformed into a den of iniquity, the silk sheets tangled and stained, the furniture pushed aside to accommodate the whims of the pavilion's new master.
Wang Jian sat on the edge of the sprawling bed, his naked form glowing faintly with the residual power of the Stellar Demonic Meridian Scripture. His muscles were taut, his skin bronzed and scarred, a stark contrast to the pale, delicate flesh of the women who now belonged to him. He looked down at the bed, his dark eyes gleaming with a complex blend of tenderness and cruelty.
