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Transmigrated Hood Princess: Master Wu's Wife is not Weak

When sassy, street-smart Amber from Chicago's roughest neighborhood finds herself transmigrated into Song Yanyan's curvy form, she's in for a rude awakening. Trapped in the gilded cage of Wuhan's snobby elite society, Amber must quickly adapt her gangster wit and tough spirit to this new, foreign world. However, Amber is no wilting flower. With her brave hood mentality and sharp tongue, she turns Master Wu's mission upside down. As she unravels the dark secrets behind her new identity, Amber goes toe-to-toe with the arrogant young master, their flames of rivalry soon sparking an unexpected passion. In this world of decadence and deceit, Amber must fight to replace Song Yanyan's meek persona with her bold, unapologetic flair. From intense clashes to wild romantic entanglements, she'll deliver scorching face-slaps to any who dare underestimate the transmigrated hood princess. Brimming with drama, action, laughter, and jaw-dropping revelations, one thing is certain - Master Wu's wife is no shrinking violet. Can this fish-out-of-water hood princess rise as the elite world's feistiest new queen?

FlameWitch · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
144 Chs

Chapter 56

Wu Haoyu's POV:

Then Huang Yanyan's hand flashed out in a blur, deftly plucking the tumbler of scotch from my slackened grip. She regarded the amber liquid with an appraising look before tossing back a healthy swig, seemingly unbothered by the harsh burn. 

"Easy there, tiger." That raspy purr sparked fresh tendrils of blazing heat low in my belly. 

Somehow, the deliberately coarse phrasing only heightened the dizzying eroticism swirling through the charged ether between us. I drank in the sight of Huang Yanyan's soft, fleshy curves barely contained by those scandalously tiny shorts and midriff top. Her ample hips flared out in an hourglass swell, dimpled flesh spilling over the tattered denim in toe-curlingly lush undulations. 

I fought to maintain some semblance of lofty detachment in the face of her smoldering provocation, even as my eyes traced the gentle ballet of her plump stomach with each breath.