Inside the locked-up house, Shao was in complete agony.
The moment the anesthesia wore off, it was like a fuse had been lit in his veins. Fire—no, something worse—burned through every inch of him, especially down low. His body wasn't just hot; it was screaming. His skin prickled, his chest heaved, and his fingers instinctively clawed at his lower abdomen, his hips twitching as if trying to grind into something that wasn't there. The ache between his legs throbbed with a desperate, maddening urgency.
He was rutting.
And it wasn't like the smaller heats he'd experienced before. No. This was worse. More primal. More feral. His breath came in ragged, steamy gasps, puffs of fog escaping his mouth in the cooled room air. He pressed a trembling hand to his forehead, then the floor, then dragged his nails down the wall as his body refused to calm down.
Then he remembered.
Jai.
His Jai.
