Chapter 23: You Console Me

“Cheng Wanyue...” Qing Hang’s head was pulled down, leaving him with only the chance to call her name.

When she was in a temper, she wouldn’t listen to anything. She directly bit him, rubbed against him, and made him open his mouth.

Lips bumped into teeth; the taste of blood was faint and quickly blended into their saliva as they swallowed each other’s essence.

The two condoms Cheng Wanyue held fell from his nape into his clothes, the sharp edges of the plastic packaging pricking his skin. This slight pain not only failed to bring him back to his senses but instead fanned the flames.

After a brief separation, Qing Hang leaned forward, turning his head to kiss her starting from her collarbone. She was pressed backward continuously until just before her body hit the shelf, when he placed a hand behind her back.

The weight of both of them caused the cabinet to sway slightly. A bucket of cookies on top tipped over, knocking over many other things, spilling and clattering all over the floor.

The box hit Cheng Wanyue’s toe, and she let out a soft cry. Taking advantage of the moment, Qing Hang pinched her chin and deepened the kiss with his tongue.

Her slippers had long been off her feet, and she unceremoniously stepped on Qing Hang’s instep. Her head kept hitting the cabinet, so he guided her to lean against the refrigerator.

The fridge wobbled slightly, its bottles and jars swaying inside.

Qing Hang simply picked her up, using one hand to push the freshly boiled hot water to the corner and letting her sit on the countertop by the sink.

Before he left for the meeting, they had both already showered. Cheng Wanyue was dressed lightly to begin with, and during their struggles, her shirt slipped off her shoulder, revealing tender flesh.

“Not wearing anything?”

“You said it’s better for the body to be naked at home. I’m not going out tonight anyway.”

Cheng Wanyue tugged at his shirt, pulling the hem out of his pants and feeling along the contours of his abs.

The buttons were bothersome, and she lacked the patience to undo them one by one. She wanted to tear it apart, but clearly lacked the strength. She couldn’t even support Qing Hang’s increasingly close body.

An unbearable itch made her unconsciously lean back, her neck covered in wet, heated marks. Qing Hang supported himself on the counter, lowering his body, focusing his attention on that expanse of exposed flesh.

Wolves or leopards, when catching small prey, deliver their first bite fiercely.

Cheng Wanyue wasn’t polite either, forcefully pinching his nipple.

He was very patient.

But such sensitive areas would inevitably betray signs of arousal no matter how patient he was. He suppressed a moan of pain, his bespectacled, scholarly appearance oozing sexiness and sensuality.

Their neighbors ate dinner late and were now washing dishes in the kitchen. Their voices drifted faintly over. Any louder sounds from them might be heard by the neighbors.

Cheng Wanyue saw through Qing Hang’s intentions and wrapped her long legs around his waist, but in the end, he forcibly carried her into the bathroom.

He turned on the shower, cool water falling onto their bodies.

With him blocking, only fine droplets of water landed on Cheng Wanyue’s skin. She leaned against the wall, watching him become increasingly flustered the more he restrained himself, and slowly broke into a smile.

Qing Hang removed his glasses, now dripping with water, swallowing several times before speaking.

“Cheng Wanyue.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you really want this, or are you deliberately tormenting me in anger?”

“You figure it out in two minutes,” she raised her hand, casually undoing the last button on his shirt.

The white shirt became somewhat transparent when wet, allowing her to see the reddened nipple she had pinched, which was redder than the other side. “Five minutes is fine too. Anyway, I’m not as uncomfortable as you.”

For Qing Hang, every second felt like torture, yet he never went further.

He needed to make sure she was willing.

“So, are you still angry?”

“No.”

Because of the blessing charm, she wouldn’t stay mad for long. He had no family, and those relatives who refused to lend him money when his parents were seriously ill had deliberately distanced themselves and stopped contacting him long ago. He didn’t believe in Buddhism. The blessing charm wasn’t for himself—it could only be for her.

Cheng Wanyue placed her hands behind her back and whispered, “Unless you kiss me until I feel good.”

Qing Hang lowered his gaze to adjust the water temperature, simultaneously discarding his shirt on the floor while cradling her face with one hand. Each time they kissed, it was as if they were vying for candy in each other’s mouths, neither willing to give in.

He grasped her wrists, raising them above her head, and swiftly lifted her nightgown off.

Water droplets flowed along the necklace into the crevice, then slid down through the gap. The marks he had kissed in the kitchen earlier were still visible, tiny red spots permeating her skin, resembling newly blossomed peach flowers. Cheng Wanyue didn’t hide anything, openly letting him look.

That morning, Qing Hang had a high fever, his headache severe. Unable to distinguish between dream and reality, he hazily undressed her. After being kicked away, he impulsively grabbed her ankle, leaving a hickey on her inner thigh where he had once bitten a shallow mark.

Later, she couldn’t wear short skirts for half a month and stayed mad at him for a long time.

Most students at school didn’t wear uniforms. Standing together, their clothes came in all colors, but his eyes could still accurately find her among the crowd.

Yellow leaves were blown off by the wind. She was chatting and laughing with friends, occasionally looking over from afar, giving him a coy glare before averting her gaze.

Aside from him and her, no one knew that hidden beneath her jeans was a trace he had left.

“Are you comfortable now? Do you still like me kissing you here?” His hoarse voice whispered in her ear.

The gradually intensifying waves of passion fermented in the enclosed space. Their breathing grew heavier, consuming precious oxygen and sapping their energy. Cheng Wanyue almost thought she was about to suffocate.

“So slippery... Qinghang... I can’t stand up,” she clung to him, and even though he was holding her, her body was slowly sliding down.

Qinghang picked her up, only grabbing the two condoms before going out.

He didn’t even bother to wipe the water off their bodies with the towel, kicked the door shut with his heel, put her on the bed, unbuckled his belt, and after his suit pants fell to the floor, he covered her.

One leg was pushed high and pressed against her chest, and Cheng Wanyue looked at Qinghang’s face, now filled with desire, with her wet eyes as it buried itself between her legs. His stiff short hair pricked her skin, and before she could get used to this itching sensation that was neither painful nor painless, his hot breath fell upon her.

First her ankles and calves, then the roots of her thighs. Her body trembled slightly under his dense, light kisses, and she bit her hand to stop herself from crying out.

If she hadn’t held back, her moans would have been very lewd.

If anyone was going to cry out, it would be him first.

She was stripped naked, but he still had a pair of black underwear on, stretched very tightly. She stepped on it with one foot, hooking her toes and grinding them against it, feeling the heat even through the soaked fabric.

Qinghang groaned muffledly, and the force of his lips and teeth increased, moving up her wide-open legs, sucking on the two soft, smooth pieces of tender flesh. Her body instantly tensed, arched up and then fell back down. Her high cries slowly became weak, and then she would moan uncontrollably again when his nose brushed against her clit.

Her feet kicked a few times, and the sheets were full of messy wrinkles.

Her engorged labia were like high-density cream, and hot liquid flowed from her opening. She was incredibly wet, and his tongue took the opportunity to drill inside.

An electric current shot straight to Cheng Wanyue’s brain, and her scalp tingled. Her fingers went into his black short hair, and she couldn’t tell if she wanted to push him away or wanted him to be harder.

At a certain moment, her struggling intensified, and even though her voice was hoarse, a hint of a sob could still be heard. Her body twisted non-stop, and Qinghang held down her kicking legs, his tongue probing deeper inside.

The climax came too fiercely and too quickly. Her tense body went limp on the bed, and when she was picked up, she hadn’t yet recovered from the pleasure that felt like it had sucked her soul away.

Qinghang found a condom and tore open the corner with his teeth.

While lightly kissing her sweaty cheeks, he put the condom in her hand.

Cheng Wanyue wasn’t completely unfamiliar with it. In college, her club had held a promotional event similar to “World AIDS Day,” and the girl who demonstrated how to use a condom was blushing the entire time.

She also wasn’t touching Qinghang for the first time. A vigorous young man would get hard after a few kisses and touches. Even if they didn’t go all the way back then, he often used her hand to relieve himself. But she hated him ejaculating on her. After being bullied, she would inevitably become mischievous. Several times, she had blocked the small opening with her thumb before he ejaculated. When he retracted his claws, his whole body would be flushed red, and he would plead with her weakly, once or twice, as if he was about to cry the next second, before she would give him pleasure.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her expression blank.

It was too small, it wouldn’t fit at all.

“Qinghang, control yourself, shrink it a little.”

How could he control that?

Qinghang’s face didn’t look good. He got out of bed and put on his clothes. He walked to the door and then turned back, cupping Cheng Wanyue’s face and kissing her hard for a minute before covering her with the quilt and going out.

He flipped through the cigarette pack in the drawer, took one out, and lit it.

Cheng Wanyue initially thought he had gone to cool down, but there was no need to cool down outside. She had been satisfied, and he was still hard.

She belatedly realized, after lying down for a while, that he had probably gone to buy condoms.

When Qinghang came back, he hadn’t even finished one cigarette. He took off his T-shirt with one hand at the door. Cheng Wanyue was pulled out of the air-conditioned quilt by her ankles. Compared to the kitchen and bathroom, this kiss seemed very perfunctory and a bit impatient.

He didn’t even let her dawdle while putting on the condom for him again. He rubbed against her thigh, and without saying a word, he pushed open her entrance and squeezed inside.

Cheng Wanyue knew it would hurt a lot, but she didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

The crying sound in her ears sounded as if he had bullied her too harshly. Qinghang endured the surging, clamoring desire in his body and stopped moving.

He slowly kissed her, from her fingers to her collarbone, from her neck to her cheeks, licking away her tears.

“Wanyue, don’t cry.”

Her tears were always her most aggressive weapon.

“If you don’t like it, I won’t continue,” Qinghang tried to pull out, but it was sucking tightly inside, and even a slight movement was torment and a test.

Cheng Wanyue raised her hand and hugged him, burying her face in his neck, her low cries mixed with gasps, hooking him like a barb.

“Comfort me, and I won’t cry.”