His hands moved from her hips up her back, spanning the full width of it, his palms pressing her closer against his chest. Her tits were completely trapped between them now, the enormous mounds compressed, her nipples pushing into the muscle of his chest with a sensitivity that sent constant, warm signals down to her already-aching dantian.
"Your previous master," he said, against her cheek. "He told you that you had become loose."
Her jaw tightened. "Yes."
"And you believed him."
Not a question again. A statement of something he had already read.
"I —" She stopped. Restarted. "It was cultivation instruction. He was the senior partner. It was his —"
"It was not instruction," Tianlong said. "It was what a mediocre man says to a woman he knows is more cultivationally capable than he is, to keep her uncertain of her own value."
The bath hall was very quiet.
