Love For You - Chapter 37

Chapter 37: Does It Hurt?

At three or four in the morning, the room was dimly lit. A straw mat was spread over the bed, and the sound of the electric fan hummed steadily, blowing against soft skin and hair—it was the middle of a deep, peaceful sleep.

Chen Yi, dazed and half-asleep, reached out for water. Someone placed a cup against his lips. He took two sips of cool water, then brushed against the slightly cool skin of the person beside him. His hand naturally slid up, enjoying the silk-like texture and the familiar, faint scent. Pressing closer, he felt a smooth, supple, and delicate body. He knew exactly who was in his arms, yet he assumed it was just another lush, erotic dream.

Sounds of breathing instantly rose from the darkness, turning suddenly intimate and lingering. Chen Yi, still muddled, thought to himself that this felt suspiciously real. His mind hadn't quite shifted gears, but his hands had already moved first, recklessly kneading and rubbing every inch of her, both appropriate and otherwise. He noticed the person in his dream stiffen and tremble, hot, ragged breaths pressing into the hollow of his shoulder, her entire body seemingly tense and holding back.

He wanted to kiss her. Instinctively, he followed the line of her cheek, kissing downward without restraint, not even worrying about scaring her. With ease, he pried open her cherry lips, slipping his tongue inside to do exactly as he pleased. He imagined countless ways to kiss her, but only in his dreams could he be this uninhibited.

Whether it was because the body in his dream was too green and stiff, or because the stimulation was just too intense, he heard the name "Chen Yi" drift past his ears, sounding like a sob. Fingernails dug into his skin, causing a faint sting. His half-drunk eyes snapped wide open. He stared steadily at the person before him—a pair of clear, sparkling eyes filled with shimmering moisture, looking at him with a wavering, unfocused gaze.

Everything around him... was not a dream.

Chen Yi sobered up completely, breaking out in a hot sweat. His pupils dilated, and his entire body went rigid. He was so stunned he couldn't even speak. With a jolt like an electric shock, he retracted his hand and rolled away to the other half of the bed, his voice gruff and trembling: "I... you..."

He was lying on the bed in her room.

"You're drunk."

Miao Jing’s delicate, pretty face was flushed with a heart-pounding crimson. Her usual cold, aloof distance had quietly retreated, her brows and eyes hiding a touch of coquettish, tender charm. She tremblingly hugged her knees and sat up, sitting calmly yet hesitantly before him.

"I... fck..." Chen Yi’s face was ashen. His scalp felt completely numb, and he was still sporting a full erection. With great difficulty, he tried to hide it as he rolled off the bed. In his twenty years, he had never been so screwed over or embarrassed. His brain had completely crashed, but luckily the room was dark, shielding his last shred of dignity.

"Chen Yi."

She called his name softly, weakly, and leaned over to tug at the corner of his shirt. Their eyes met for a fleeting second—her gaze seemed like a final effort—and as she straightened her body, fully exposed to his gloomy, shadowed eyes, Miao Jing tremblingly reached out to hug him.

"Chen Yi..." she murmured, her voice melodic and lingering. "Don't go... stay..."

She rested her cheek on his shoulder, rubbing against it softly. Her gentle, damp lips pecked at his warm skin, then she pressed closer, burying her face into the crook of his neck, whispering his name over and over in silence, like a spell.

His mind was a blank slate. His Adam's apple bobbed repeatedly, and his voice came out hoarse and unclear: "Stay for what?"

"Anything you want." Her voice trembled, too, as she fought to overcome her shyness.

"Chen Yi..."

Chen Yi’s gaze turned murky and lost, his body frozen and unmoving.

She tightened her arms, arching her soft waist to pull him back onto the bed. He leaned in, his handsome, sword-like brows knitted, his dark, bottomless pupils fixed on her as he hoarsely asked if she knew what she was doing.

Miao Jing said she did, trying her best to face him with honesty.

"You won't regret it?"

"I won't regret it."

His sharp gaze remained fixed on her: "Why are you doing this?"

Her eyes flickered, and her cherry lips parted: "No reason. Just... thank you."

Thank you?

He really thanked her! He thanked her whole family!

His gaze darkened, and his expression stalled. He was clearly stung by her words. He replied in a flat tone, "Is that so?" Feeling a sudden void in his heart, he flopped onto his side, lying parallel to her on the pillow. He touched his own lips, feeling an unconscious urge to smoke. He stared straight at the ceiling. In that short time, the daylight shifted from dim to soft, and the vague shadows in the room gradually became clear. The traces of his childhood here had been completely worn away; it had become entirely her territory—the posters on the walls, the books and pens on the desk, the dolls and trinkets on the nightstand.

Turning his head, he saw the person beside him—the once thin, small shadow had suddenly shot up into a lithe, delicate young girl. She had beautiful eyes, a refined face, soft limbs, and skin like white porcelain. She noticed his scrutinizing gaze and turned to look at him. Both pairs of eyes were quiet and profound.

It was like clouds drifting across the sky, like a mirror reflecting a broken casket. His breathing hitched twice. As their burning gazes drew near, it began with a forceful, deep kiss. They pried open each other's lips, their teeth clashing. He unreservedly swept his tongue over every one of her pearls, passing his breath and moisture to her. She gasped, unable to catch her breath, her eyes shimmering like sunset clouds, until finally, she took the initiative to curl her small, fragrant tongue to suck on his, leading him on with a slide like a small fish. Where was the ice-cold, lonely moon? This was clearly a charming, magnificent, and enchanting siren.

Their lips and teeth were glued together like lacquer, a spark igniting a prairie fire that completely burned away his reason. Both their bodies were beautifully structured, possessing a natural, youthful elegance of well-proportioned bone and flesh.

"Is it here?"

"I don't know." Her voice was like the buzz of a mosquito.

At this moment, he felt a bit reckless, acting in an unbridled, shameless way. He leaned against her ear and chuckled softly: "It’s not like what's in the movies."

There were waves of charming,荡欲 (wanton) ripples in her clear, dazed eyes. He was hyped up, feeling like he might explode. His cold, self-disciplined younger sister was also a charming, decadent woman, just like him, possessed of both love and desire.

He leaned over, his fingers stroking her slightly sweaty, crimson cheek, and asked in a low voice if it hurt.

She said softly that it didn't, just that she was very tired. She lay on her side. The daylight had become completely bright; the midsummer sun filtered through the floral curtains, casting a soft, porcelain-like glow upon her skin. Chen Yi held her from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head, brushing her hair onto the pillow and wiping the sweat from the nape of her neck.

There had been nothing prepared beforehand. Miao Jing was still in that state, and he didn't dare move too casually. Remembering something, he leaned into her ear and asked if they should go out and buy medicine. She shook her head, saying her period had just passed, and drifted off to sleep while resting on his arm.

When Miao Jing woke up again, it was already 10:30 in the morning. Chen Yi had gone out to buy some things. He had called Bozai to stay at home and keep watch; he couldn't leave Miao Jing alone. After smoking a cigarette, he went to the bedroom to check on her. Seeing her lying there as a small ball, he leaned in and saw she was already staring with clear eyes at the undrawn curtains.

For the first time in his life, Chen Yi felt a mixture of iron-blooded tenderness. His large frame and rugged bones seemed to shrink. He half-knelt before her, his hands braced on the side of the bed, asking if she was hungry or uncomfortable. He had bought breakfast and ointment, and brought over a cup of milk and the food she liked to feed her. Miao Jing sat on the bed and took a few quick bites. Feeling sticky, she wanted to take a bath in the bathroom. Chen Yi simply picked her up and turned on the shower to wash her off. Both of their gazes were unnatural; beyond the awkwardness, there seemed to be a silent, mutual understanding. Miao Jing looked away, holding her faintly flushed cheeks.

The bathroom was filled with mist, and the air was thick with the humid, steaming heat of the water. Their intertwined breathing was stickier and heavier than the damp air. Both pairs of eyes were dazed and misty, tethered by the splashing water droplets and the unspoken, shy sentiments between them. For some reason, he remembered their first kiss—the strange circumstances and atmosphere. Chen Yi reached out to wipe the water droplets from her face, cradled her in his arms, and lifted his head to kiss her petal-like face. He felt lucky again, lucky that there were only the two of them in this house, that they were only relying on each other to survive, and that everything was an unspoken destiny.

He carried Miao Jing back to the room, blew dry her hair, and dressed her. He liked this feeling of taking meticulous care of someone. He had also bought soothing ointment and medicinal patches, which he sheepishly handed to Miao Jing. There were often horrifying tawdry news stories from the nightclubs, and he was a bit nervous, not daring to be too casual.

Miao Jing tugged at the hem of her dress, her face pale as she shook her head.

In the end, it was Chen Yi who went to rinse his mouth, lay down on the bed, braced his shoulders, and lowered his body to soothe her pain and discomfort.