The First Full Release

The next day passed in exquisite torture. Every shared glance across the breakfast table felt like a hand sliding between thighs. Every time Li Mei leaned over to refill Yenay’s coffee, the silk of her robe brushed Yenay’s bare arm and left a trail of gooseflesh. Wei sat between them, oblivious, scrolling property listings on his phone while the rest of the family chattered about tomorrow’s yacht outing. Yenay could barely taste the kaya toast; her mouth was full of last night’s whiskey-kiss, her skin still humming where Li Mei’s teeth had grazed her throat.

By late afternoon the house emptied. Wei and the cousins had taken the speedboat to Marina Bay for drinks. The aunts were at the spa in town. The younger ones napped or swam. The villa fell into a heavy, expectant hush — only the low hum of the air-conditioning, the lap of the infinity pool, and the distant cry of seabirds.

At 4:42 p.m., Yenay’s phone buzzed once. A single message from an unsaved number she already knew by heart.

My suite. Now. Bring nothing.

She deleted it immediately. Her heart did not.

She wore only the thin white cotton slip she’d slept in — no bra, no panties, the fabric already clinging from the perpetual humidity. Bare feet on cool marble corridors. She did not knock.

Li Mei’s door was ajar.

Inside, the room was dimmed to twilight. Heavy cream curtains drawn against the late-afternoon sun, but enough golden light leaked through to paint long stripes across the king bed. The air smelled of her: jasmine, amber, clean sweat, the faint metallic bite of arousal. A single standing fan turned slowly, stirring the sheer mosquito netting that draped from the ceiling like a veil.

Li Mei stood at the foot of the bed.

She had showered recently; her hair was damp, combed straight back from her face, droplets still tracing the elegant column of her throat, disappearing between collarbones, reappearing to roll over the upper swell of her breasts. She wore nothing. Not a stitch. Skin the color of fresh ivory, flushed at throat and chest. Nipples already dark and erect. The soft black triangle between her thighs glistened faintly — not from water.

She did not speak at first.

She simply looked at Yenay with those obsidian eyes until Yenay felt stripped more thoroughly than if every garment had been torn away.

Then, quietly:

“Kneel.”

The word landed soft. Absolute.

Yenay’s knees folded before her mind could catch up. Marble was hard beneath her, but she barely felt it. All sensation had narrowed to the woman standing over her.

Li Mei stepped closer. Close enough that Yenay could see the fine tremor in her inner thighs, smell the heady musk rising from her sex. One hand — those long, elegant fingers — reached down and cupped Yenay’s chin, tilting her face upward.

“Look at me.”

Yenay did. Eyes wide. Breath shallow.

“You’ve wanted this since the moment you stepped off the ferry,” Li Mei said. “Haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Say it properly.”

“I’ve wanted you since the ferry. Since the dressing room. Since the balcony. Every second.”

Li Mei’s thumb traced Yenay’s lower lip, parting it, slipping just inside so Yenay could taste salt skin.

“Good girl.”

The praise hit Yenay like a current — straight to her clit, making her inner walls flutter around nothing.

Li Mei withdrew her thumb, glistening now with Yenay’s saliva, and brought it to her own mouth. Sucked once. Slowly. Eyes never leaving Yenay’s.

“Stand. Undress. Slowly.”

Yenay rose on unsteady legs. Fingers found the thin straps of the slip. She drew them down her shoulders inch by inch. The cotton caught for a moment on her hardened nipples, dragging across them, making her gasp. Then it slid past hips, past thighs, pooling at her feet.

Naked now. Exposed. Dripping.

Li Mei circled her once — predator assessing prey — fingertips trailing: across Yenay’s collarbone, down the outer curve of one breast, along the dip of her waist, over the swell of her ass, then up the sensitive inside of one thigh.

When those fingers brushed the slick folds between Yenay’s legs, Yenay jerked, a small, broken sound escaping her.

“So wet already,” Li Mei murmured. “And I’ve barely touched you.”

She guided Yenay backward until the backs of her knees met the edge of the mattress. Pushed gently. Yenay fell onto cool sheets, legs parting instinctively.

Li Mei followed, crawling over her, knees bracketing Yenay’s hips, palms planted beside her head. Hair fell forward like a black curtain, enclosing them.

Their mouths met — not gentle this time. Deep. Starving. Teeth clashing. Tongues sliding. Li Mei tasted of want held too long; Yenay tasted of surrender offered freely.

Hands roamed.

Li Mei’s palms cupped Yenay’s breasts, thumbs circling nipples in slow, cruel spirals until they throbbed. She broke the kiss to take one into her mouth — hot, wet suction, tongue flicking the tip, then teeth grazing just enough to sting. Yenay arched, fingers threading into damp hair, holding Li Mei there.

Lower.

Li Mei kissed a trail down Yenay’s sternum, over the soft rise of her belly, pausing to dip her tongue into the shallow well of her navel. Then lower still. When her breath ghosted over Yenay’s swollen clit, Yenay whimpered.

“Please.”

Li Mei looked up the length of Yenay’s body, eyes black with hunger.

“Beg properly.”

“Please… taste me. Please fuck me with your mouth. I need it. I need you.”

Li Mei smiled — slow, victorious.

Then she lowered her head and licked — one long, flat stroke from entrance to clit. Yenay cried out, hips bucking. Li Mei pinned them down with strong forearms, spread Yenay wider with thumbs, and devoured.

No teasing now. No restraint.

She sucked the clit between her lips, tongue lashing in tight circles. Slid two fingers inside — slow at first, letting Yenay feel every inch, every ridge of her knuckles — then curled them upward, finding that swollen place inside and stroking relentlessly. Yenay’s thighs trembled around Li Mei’s head. Her hands fisted sheets. Sounds spilled from her — broken moans, gasps, pleas that made no sense.

Li Mei hummed against her — the vibration ripping another cry from Yenay’s throat.

When Yenay was shaking, right on the edge, Li Mei pulled back just enough to speak against slick flesh.

“Come for me. Now.”

The command shattered her.

Orgasm tore through Yenay like lightning — back arching off the bed, thighs clamping around Li Mei’s head, inner walls pulsing hard around invading fingers. She sobbed through it, tears slipping into her hair. Li Mei did not stop — kept licking, softer now, drawing it out until Yenay was whimpering from overstimulation.

Only then did Li Mei crawl back up, kissing Yenay deep so she could taste herself on that clever tongue.

“Your turn,” Li Mei whispered against her mouth.

She rolled them so Yenay was on top. Spread her own thighs wide. Guided Yenay’s hand between them.

“Feel how much I want you.”

Yenay’s fingers slid through drenched folds — so wet, so hot, so swollen. She circled Li Mei’s clit once, experimentally, and felt the older woman’s entire body shudder.

“Inside,” Li Mei ordered, voice rough. “Now.”

Yenay pushed two fingers in — tight, velvet heat gripping her instantly. Li Mei’s head fell back on a low moan. Yenay pumped slowly at first, learning the rhythm, the angle that made Li Mei’s hips rise to meet her. Then faster. Harder. Thumb finding the clit and rubbing in tight circles.

Li Mei’s hands gripped Yenay’s ass, nails digging in, urging her on.

“Harder,” she gasped. “Don’t stop—fuck—don’t you dare stop—”

Yenay obeyed.

When Li Mei came, it was violent — back bowing, thighs clamping around Yenay’s wrist, a raw, guttural cry tearing from her throat. Inner walls spasmed so hard Yenay felt every ripple. Liquid heat coated her hand, her wrist.

They collapsed together, panting, slick with sweat and each other.

For long minutes neither spoke.

Then Li Mei turned her head, pressed a slow kiss to Yenay’s temple.

“That was only the beginning,” she murmured.

Yenay shivered — already feeling the next wave of want coil low in her belly.

Outside, the sun was setting. Lanterns began to glow again. Somewhere downstairs, voices returned — the family coming home.

But in this room, time had stopped.

And the addiction had only just taken root.