When Qing Hang got drunk, even his hardest heart would melt into a puddle of water in front of Cheng Wanyue.
He would tell her he missed her and always wanted to kiss her.
During that hour-plus car ride, he sat in the passenger seat, his eyes never leaving Cheng Wanyue for a moment.
He was afraid she would leave, or disappear with just a blink of an eye. He followed her whatever she did—even when she boiled water, he had to stand beside her, first holding her hand, then embracing her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.
There was no air conditioning in the kitchen or living room. By the time Cheng Wanyue helped Qing Hang upstairs, she was drenched in sweat. His body was burning hot, with a warmth that clothes couldn’t contain, making her restless.
When the water boiled, she gave him a gentle push, but the arm around her waist only tightened.
Cheng Wanyue was nearly pressed flat against the counter, barely managing to support both their weight with her hands. She thought he was unsteady on his feet, but the next second, he carried her into the bedroom.
“Aren’t you thirsty?”
“Not thirsty,” Qing Hang’s nose nuzzled her nape. “It’s so hot, why don’t you take off your clothes?”
Cheng Wanyue: “…”
What difference did it make whether she was dressed or not? He’d touched her everywhere. Outside, he was the same as usual, even greeting neighbors normally, but behind closed doors, he showed his true nature.
“You take yours off first,” she would shower soon anyway. “Just the top, don’t take off your pants.”
Qing Hang crossed his arms and pulled up his T-shirt, removing it over his head. “You too.”
“I only have one piece on, so I’d be at a disadvantage,” Cheng Wanyue looked at the scratch marks on his chest, which seemed deeper in color than in the afternoon. She coughed twice. “Unless you let me touch… hmm… once isn’t enough, I want to touch more.”
Might as well take advantage while she could.
Even with their intimacy at the hotel that afternoon, Qing Hang rarely allowed her to touch him. But if he always held her wrists, she would get angry. He didn’t want things to end too quickly, so the first time had been from behind.
As a result, when they ate late-night snacks, she could only sit on a soft cushion.
“Someone told me that when drunk, men can’t get hard. Let me see if that’s true,” Cheng Wanyue had heard from a friend that men who use drunkenness as an excuse to have sex are mostly pretending to be drunk to get laid, with no intention of taking responsibility.
Qing Hang was about to go to the bathroom. “I’m not drunk.”
“You don’t get to decide,” Cheng Wanyue straddled his lap, moving closer, then pulling away.
Her breath on his chest was enough to cause changes in his body. She saw his nipples tremble slightly.
Her finger slid slowly down from his Adam’s apple, tracing the contours of his abs. She had barely touched him, and his muscles were already hard, but there wasn’t much reaction below. Even without drinking, he had impressive self-control.
Cheng Wanyue ran to the living room to get her phone, quickly returning to the bedroom. The light illuminated a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, and his gaze wasn’t as cold as usual. The alcohol and heat brought out a layer of hazy mist, covering the undercurrent that flowed before the flames erupted.
“Don’t think I’m taking advantage of you,” even if she felt guilty, she acted as if it was perfectly reasonable. “Answer one question for me, and I’ll touch where you want me to touch, or let you kiss me for two minutes. Fair exchange, no one loses.”
Only after he nodded did Cheng Wanyue open his WeChat and press the voice record button.
“Qing Hang, apart from your grandfather, who do you love the most?”
He said, “Cheng Wanyue.”
“Correct answer,” she knelt, moving her knees closer to him. “Should I touch you, or do you want to kiss?”
Qing Hang hooked her finger. “Both.”
“No, you can only choose one.”
“I choose to take off your clothes.”
“You’ve learned to create your answers,” Cheng Wanyue appeared to be praising him, but she was laughing inside, doubting he could remain so calm after she took off her clothes. “Fine, go ahead and undress me. I won’t help you, and you can only take off your clothes, not touch me.”
“Mm.”
Qing Hang remembered the zipper was at the back, and there was one at the waist as well. Cheng Wanyue’s dress accentuated her figure but was easy to remove. If she cooperated slightly, pulling down the zipper would make the dress fall naturally.
The dress was black, and her underwear was also black.
The marks on her body were no fewer than those on his.
Qing Hang even remembered how much pressure he had used to leave that kiss mark at the edge of her bra, and about two centimeters below that, there was another one.
Cheng Wanyue knelt on the bed, letting him look without reservation. She continued with the second question, “Apart from your grandfather, who treats you the best?”
Like before, Qing Hang answered without thinking, “Cheng Wanyue.”
“Reward: one kiss,” Cheng Wanyue wrapped her arms around his neck. She only meant to give him a quick peck, but before she could even touch his lips, he pulled her onto his lap.
A light kiss became a deep one, until her neck ached.
Even when she forcibly broke free, he didn’t stop.
His short hair prickled her skin, making it itch slightly. She leaned back, almost falling, but he caught her in his arms. His kisses started from her cheek, gradually approaching that kiss mark.
Cheng Wanyue enjoyed his kisses so much that she didn’t mind his rule-breaking little touches. “Qing Hang, who treats you the worst?”
This time, after a long while, he finally spoke, “Cheng Wanyue.”
Cheng Wanyue:?
Retract.
Cheng Wanyue recalled this voice message, tossing the phone aside. “Am I not good to you? Explain yourself, when was I not good to you?”
“You ignored me, but smiled at them.”
“I ignored you because we were fighting. I naturally love to smile; even with cats and dogs, I’ll smile when I’m in a good mood. Qing Hang, you’re not psychologically disturbed, enjoying seeing me cry, are you?”