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Cheng Yanqing was cursing in the living room; it sounded like Coal Ball had put its paw in his water glass.
Qing Hang couldn’t leave this bedroom right now, not because he was afraid of running into Cheng Yanqing, there was nothing to be afraid of, but because he was still hard downstairs, and his clothes were very messy from Cheng Wanyue. The front of his shirt was heavily wrinkled, and his pants zipper was open.
The blue dress lay scattered on the floor, its skirt piled up, gradually engulfing him like ocean waves.
Cheng Wanyue sat at the corner of the table, her fair back reflected in the mirror. Although Qing Hang had locked the door, he still took off his shirt and put it on her.
She took her phone, leaned lazily into Qing Hang’s embrace, and swung one foot lightly.
Every minute and every second was agony for Qing Hang, but she ignored it, not only not helping him but occasionally kissing and touching him.
He was shirtless, which was very convenient.
His hand was removed from her chest, but she didn’t get angry, instead leisurely choosing condoms.
“How thin is ‘ultra-thin’?”
“Hyaluronic acid lubricant? Don’t really need this.”
“How lubricated is ‘super-lubricated’?”
“Sensual textures? They come in smooth and icy? Will icy be uncomfortable? Never mind, don’t want that kind.”
“Tight fit ultra-thin, will this fall off mid-way?”
“Magic pack? What magic, it must be fake.”
“Dotted and ribbed? These also come in cool and warm, and the second box is half price.”
“Long-lasting? It’s already quite long-lasting, can’t be any longer.”
Cheng Wanyue was as indecisive as if she were shopping for clothes. “Which one do you want?”
“Are you actually buying it?” Qing Hang hadn’t planned on staying over before he came in.
“Of course,” Cheng Wanyue chose the most mysterious one. “I’m buying this ‘magic’ one to see what kind of magic it has.”
She added a note to the order: Don’t knock when it arrives, call instead.
Cheng Wanyue spent a long time deliberating. Cheng Yanqing had already washed up and taken Coal Ball into his bedroom. It was quiet outside.
“Let’s go shower first.”
She found a random pajama to put on, grabbed the doorknob, opened a crack, and after confirming Cheng Yanqing wasn’t in the living room, she reached one hand behind and crooked a finger.
Qing Hang was led by her, tiptoeing out. Suddenly, Cheng Yanqing’s room door opened. She quickly pushed Qing Hang into the bathroom and squeezed in herself, yet there was no trace of nervousness on her face.
“Cheng Wanyue, you’re still awake?”
“I haven’t showered or washed my hair yet. I also need to do a face mask and hair mask.”
Sometimes she could fuss for an hour or two. Cheng Yanqing merely reminded her not to use the cups on the table; he would buy new ones tomorrow.
“Got it, you go play your game,” Cheng Wanyue leaned against the door, winking at Qing Hang with a smile.
Qing Hang turned on the shower, the sound of water covering their slightly heavy breathing.
Actually, Cheng Yanqing wore headphones when he played games; he wouldn’t hear thunder or hail.
But Cheng Wanyue wouldn’t tell Qing Hang that.
She took off her pajamas and hung them on the rack, then brought all her bottles and jars to Qing Hang’s hand. “Don’t use Cheng Yanqing’s, his smells bad. These are my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. This is body scrub, and the pink bottle is body lotion.”
“This is makeup remover, I need it,” she had worn light makeup today.
Qing Hang remembered not to get his hands wet. He scooped out some milky white cream and gently spread it on her face.
She instructed him, “Rub it in, then rinse it off with clean water.”
“Close your eyes.”
“This doesn’t sting my eyes, I didn’t wear eye makeup,” her hands weren’t idle either. “I’ll help you wash too, just wash, no other stuff. If the delivery guy can’t get through on the phone, he might knock directly.”
It should arrive in half an hour.
“Can I kiss you?”
“No,” she whispered into his ear. “I’m pretty uncomfortable too, let’s finish washing quickly.”
It wasn’t the first time Qing Hang had bathed her, but it was definitely the first time he had walked through the living room wearing only a pink towel around his waist after showering.
The delivery guy was about to arrive. Cheng Wanyue said she would go open the door and get it. Qing Hang pulled her back, his gaze falling on the water-soaked part of her nightgown’s neckline.
He never cared what she wore, but pajamas were different.
“You go?” Cheng Wanyue looked at the pink towel around his waist. He had been holding back for a long time, and the blurry desire in his eyes was thick. “The clothes you wore back from your place are in the wardrobe. Go quickly, I’ll wait for you on the bed.”
Qing Hang pressed on her shoulders, making her sit on the edge of the bed. He kissed her chin and turned to get dressed.
He opened the door just as the delivery guy got off the elevator.
The “magic pack” Cheng Wanyue was curious about turned out to be a variety pack, with all different types.
She was still tidying up the dress. After hanging it up, it blocked the mirror.
Qing Hang locked the door, tossed the “magic” package onto the bedside table, and, picking her up, he hooked her legs around his waist, their bodies falling onto the soft bedding. Her laughter was swallowed by him.
He was like someone who had been caged for a long time, biting through the lock and rushing out of the prison, every living thing his food.
Cheng Wanyue told him to be quiet, so he didn’t say a word, only asking her which one she wanted when he touched the “magic” box.
“Just grab any,” she watched him put it on. “Tsk tsk, you like the ribbed ones... Ah!”
The next second, the foot rubbing against his side was pushed high, and her voice changed pitch from the impact. He lowered his body, one hand propping her head, the other tracing from her wrist to her neck, feeling her carotid artery pulsating excitedly. Desire drove him to go harder, but he couldn’t bear to, choosing to blur her sounds with kisses.
He couldn’t help but look at her.
But looking at her, she would drag him into a narrow cage.
The lengthy foreplay made her climax quickly. He went harder with each thrust, the raised ribs grinding against her sensitive spots every time. Her neck arched high, and her slender waist curved like a crescent moon.
The overwhelming pleasure momentarily silenced her, but her body trembled.
Qing Hang resisted the urge to ejaculate, removed the condom, and threw it into the trash. He took out a fresh, ordinary one, opened it, and, flipping her over, had her kneel.
He pressed close from behind, rubbed against her wet opening, and slowly pushed inside.
He was more restrained than before, exquisitely tormenting.
Soft kisses fell on her back, and the bed creaked, as if it were saying for him: See, it’s not the ribs that make you comfortable, it’s me.
The sounds were sticky. After she recovered from the intense pleasure, she still felt a bit of shame.
“It’s too loud, let’s go by the window.”
Qing Hang wrapped one hand around to the front, gripping her swaying breasts, his sweat-soaked forehead pressing against the back of her neck. “In bed, you occasionally dream of me too, right?”
He always dreamed of her.
Blood was burning, the most fragile nerve tightening. Pleasure permeated her skin and spread to her brain. She even began to beg for mercy. He consciously covered her mouth, whimpering cries escaping through the gaps, like sparks drilling into his ears.
She couldn’t stay kneeling, her waist sinking, finally slumping limply beneath him, missing his impassioned look, letting him do whatever he wanted.
He was fierce, yet soft.
Before ejaculating, he wanted to tear her body apart, yet he also gently kissed her ankles.
Controlling her life and death, yet also submitting at her feet.
Qing Hang leaned against the pillow, Cheng Wanyue sprawled on top of him. Both were sticky. The scratches on his chest were fresh, and sweat permeated the thin layer of skin, stinging slightly.
He lightly stroked her sweat-soaked wisps of hair. “The weather’s not hot anymore. You should try running, or yoga, or dancing. If your body is healthy, your immunity will be high.”
Cheng Wanyue chuckled quietly. “Is it really just to boost immunity?”
Qing Hang lowered his head and kissed her. “Why do you get tired so easily?”
She was a little sleepy. “Because I was sick before.”
“When?”
“A few years ago. Go shower, I want to sleep,” she said she’d go wash up, but didn’t move. “Don’t wake up Cheng Yanqing, if he finds out, it’ll be a big deal. I won’t be able to save you.”
Qing Hang had told her to go get a check-up at the hospital before, but she had refused.
After blow-drying her hair, she collapsed into bed and immediately fell asleep.
The bedsheets were new, but the smell in the room hadn’t fully faded. Qing Hang didn’t wait until she was fast asleep to sneak closer. Instead, when her head rested on his arm, he gently pulled her into his embrace.
He looked at the formal dress hanging on the rack and thought of the wedding gown in the shop window.
In his dream, their names were printed on the invitation cards, sent out along with wedding candies to everyone they knew. When he woke the next morning, the memory still lingered, hazy but vivid.
He had just finished dressing when Cheng Wanyue woke up.
Qing Hang leaned down and pulled the blanket up for her. “Go back to sleep. I’m heading to work.”
“Hug,” she mumbled, eyes barely open, arms wrapping around his neck.
Qing Hang still had ten minutes to spare. He looked at her drowsy face, the dream still fresh in his mind. “Rapunzel.”
“Hmm?”
“Do you want to wear a pretty new dress… like a wedding gown?”
Cheng Wanyue kicked him. “I’m just not fully awake—not stupid. You haven’t even officially won me over, and now you’re trying to trick me into marriage? No way. We’re not skipping any steps.”
Qing Hang laughed. “Just asking, don’t be mad.”
As he walked out of the room, Cheng Yanqing, his hair a messy mop, came out from the room next door.
Qing Hang paused. Cheng Yanqing walked straight to the dining room, picked up a cup, and downed half of it before suddenly remembering the cat had stepped on it.
“Shit!” Cheng Yanqing cursed irritably.
He turned, ready to catch the cat, and his eyes met Qing Hang’s. He froze for a moment.
A few seconds later, Cheng Wanyue opened her door and ran barefoot into the kitchen.
“Qing Hang, wait,” she whispered, pulling a carton of milk from the fridge and tossing it to him. “It’s too cold—heat it up before drinking.”
Standing by the table, Cheng Yanqing stared at Qing Hang and clenched his fists. “You slept in her room last night?”
Cheng Wanyue froze. No wonder she felt a chill while getting milk—Cheng Yanqing didn’t have to work until ten, he wasn’t supposed to be up this early.
Big trouble.
“Cheng Wanyue, is your eye twitching?” Cheng Yanqing glared at her as she tried to signal Qing Hang with her eyes and scoffed, “I’m a whole adult man, and you managed to run from the bedroom to the kitchen to the living room without seeing me? Am I dead or what?”
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