A Peach Wood Comb

A Peach Wood Comb
A Peach Wood Comb

Chapter 1: The Woman in the Mirror

A woman in a black, low-cut lace nightgown that subtly reveals her cleavage, with burgundy curls lazily scattered over her shoulders, her face still flushed with the remnants of makeup, her eyes that were once fervent now cooling down. On the solid wood vanity adorned with European gold-embossed patterns, a small peachwood comb looked particularly shabby amidst the glittering array of jewelry. The woman picked up the comb, which had lost two teeth, and gently combed through her hair.

“Would you just calm down for a moment? You keep looking at yourself in the mirror all day long. Be careful, one day the person in the mirror might jump out and scare you to death!” From the large European-style bed behind her, a man with a stern face and a bare torso leaned against the bed frame adorned with golden floral patterns. The bright yellow brocade quilt was messily draped, thinly covering his lower half. His deep black eyes held a faint smile, and a half-smirk at the corner of his mouth made his cold face suddenly charming, a quintessential specimen of masculinity.

The woman paused her combing, turned her head, her eyes rippling with allure. “Scared, are you? What would you do if another one of me popped out? Could you handle two?” After her teasing words, she set down the peachwood comb, climbed back onto the bed, knelt before the man, and her slender fingers brushed across his chest, circling at his abdomen. “Even if you could chew, could you swallow? Dear, don’t be too greedy!”

Provoked, the man tightened his grip, flipped her over, and entered her fiercely from behind, murmuring, “Can’t swallow, huh? Hmm? I’ll make sure you leave no bone fragments!”

In the room that could rival a European palace, the air was filled with the scent of passion from the luxurious bed. Soft moans and the man’s low growls echoed under the high ceiling. Exhausted, the man lay back, and the woman bowed her head.

“Do you love me?” the man asked.

“Of course, I do!” the woman replied.

“What do you love about me?” he inquired further.

“I love your money!” she answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world, a question he always made sure to remind her of after their intimacy.

Page 1 of 288
error: Content is protected !!