Too straightforward words.
Sang Lu was momentarily at a loss.
After saying this, Feng Yan didn’t move further but fixed his gaze on her.
His sharp eyebrows lifted slightly, carrying a hint of inquiry and declaration.
His eyes were like deep, unfathomable whirlpools.
Locked under his intense stare, the heat in Sang Lu’s cheeks rose bit by bit, her eyelashes fluttering faintly.
Almost instinctively, she held her breath.
Her fingers slowly clenched, crumpling the bedsheet into twisted folds.
She closed her eyes.
With her vision gone, her other senses sharpened.
She thought she heard a short, low chuckle escape the man’s chest.
The next moment.
The shadow before her deepened as her face was gently cupped.
His fingers tangled into her slightly curled long hair.
Pale fingers disappeared into the dark strands.
Entwined together.
With her eyes shut, Sang Lu could only hear the pounding of her own heartbeat.
Thump, thump, thump—unceasing.
Feng Yan had just showered, his body still radiating faint warmth.
That warmth, mixed with the intoxicating scent of his pheromones, enveloped her completely.
Her lips met something soft and warm.
The tips of their noses brushed.
Her fingers abruptly tightened.
The bedsheet creased even deeper.
—Was this… liking?
The thought suddenly surfaced in her mind.
Her heart thudded heavily.
Whether it was the sudden kiss in the car last time or now, after his clear declaration, her body seemed to act before her mind, obediently closing her eyes.
To be honest.
She wasn’t someone who followed orders easily.
Yet time and again, she fell under his spell.
Could it be… not a spell at all?
But her own heart’s voice?
……
The air grew hotter.
The tall, imposing man bent one knee against the bed, his hand cradling the back of her head.
His broad palm leisurely traced the delicate skin at her nape.
He wasn’t in a hurry.
Just light, teasing touches.
His nose was filled with her sweet but not cloying fragrance—likely from the lotions and potions she used after every shower.
His sharp gaze locked onto her face, noticing the faint tremble of her long lashes.
From her earlobes down to her neck, a delicate flush spread.
The sight darkened his eyes, stirring an uncontrollable craving within him.
Time seemed to freeze.
Sang Lu kept her eyes tightly shut.
She sat leaning back, her head held firmly by his large hand, her waist gripped tight.
Breaths mingled, touches lingered.
With every press of his lips, her heart trembled violently.
All her senses were overwhelmed.
Trapped in the small space before him, she tilted her head up, surrendering to Feng Yan’s deepening kiss.
Her mind was in chaos.
His warm exhales brushed her cheeks and chest, sending faint shivers through her.
In her ears, his deep, ragged breaths sounded indistinct.
Her own breathing grew uneven.
—This was liking, wasn’t it…?
The voice in her heart spoke again.
Her pulse raced faster.
The hand propping her up on the bed began to weaken.
Sang Lu cracked her eyes open slightly, but everything was a blur—she couldn’t make out his features.
The living room was dimly lit.
Every night before bed, the lights were adjusted to a sleep-inducing glow.
Now, that soft light spilled over the man’s broad back.
Dressed in a dark robe, his shoulders curved forward, as if seeking answers in the deepening kiss.
Vaguely, he noticed her slightly parted eyes.
Dazed, as if lost in thought.
He pulled his lips away.
His intense gaze bore into hers.
"Focus," he murmured, voice low and rough.
The deep, magnetic tone crashed into Sang Lu’s ears.
Her eyes flew open, meeting Feng Yan’s burning stare.
A transparent blush bloomed across her cheeks, too shy to hold his gaze.
The moment she looked away, he descended again.
Her breath was stolen.
Her lips were captured.
Her mind went blank.
Sang Lu felt spellbound.
Obeying him—or perhaps, her own heart.
She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Letting go of all resistance, she entrusted her weight entirely to the hands supporting her head and waist.
Breaths tangled.
Bound by his steady, powerful arms.
Her world seemed to shrink, smaller and smaller…
Until it held only him.
Until nothing else mattered.
Lips met, lingered, moved in slow exploration.
Compared to their kiss in the car, this time, Sang Lu’s experience was fundamentally different.
Beyond passively accepting his invasion, she was also… feeling.
His bones were hard.
Her forearm pressed against his shoulder blade, the sharpness almost painful.
His skin burned hot, his pulse throbbing at his neck.
Infected by his heat, her entire arm grew feverish, trembling.
His short hair was coarse.
When her fingertips lightly brushed it, there was a faint, prickling sensation.
She was pulled into the whirlwind—a storm of kisses that left no inch of her mouth untouched, her breath and senses wholly conquered.
Her breathing grew erratic, her body feeling as if it might dissolve.
The only thing she could do was cling tighter.
Her arms slowly tightened around him.
Just to steady herself.
The moment she did, Feng Yan’s pupils contracted sharply.
In the next second, Sang Lu felt weightless—he effortlessly lifted her, shifting their positions.
He sat on the edge of the bed, settling her onto his lap, facing him.
Sang Lu’s face burned.
The sudden loss of balance forced her to loop her arms even tighter around his neck.
Feng Yan’s robe had loosened from her movements. Her gaze inadvertently dipped lower.
Pale collarbones tinged with red, a well-defined chest.
Bathed in the warm light, the sight was undeniably intimate.
Her thoughts strayed for just a few seconds—but the wolf-like man noticed instantly.
He tilted her head back, forcing her to meet his eyes again.
"Can you stop getting distracted?" he asked.
His tone didn’t match his expression.
A stern face, yet his voice was impossibly gentle.
Under his direct gaze, Sang Lu’s heart skipped.
"I’ll try… Mm—"
Her soft reply was cut off as his lips sealed over hers, the last syllable dissolving into incoherence.
A kiss brimming with possessiveness overwhelmed her nerves.
She had lied.
She was still distracted.
Her heart pounded like thunder.
A single word echoed relentlessly in her chest.
Clearer than ever.
—Like.
She liked him.
She didn’t know how long the kiss lasted.
Every time she grew breathless, dizzy,
He would loosen his grip, letting her gasp for air.
But the moment she steadied,
His hand would return to the back of her head, dragging her into a deeper, more intoxicating abyss.
The room grew hotter.
Until—a sudden ringtone shattered the moment.
Sang Lu pressed against his shoulder, trying to push herself up.
There was no way she could answer the phone while sitting on him—just the thought made her flush.
She barely moved.
But Feng Yan’s spine abruptly stiffened.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his broad back rising and falling unevenly.
Still dazed, Sang Lu blinked at the man holding her.
Then—she realized.
The unmistakable change beneath her.
She froze.
In her ear, Feng Yan’s ragged breathing sounded unbearably enticing.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath scorching hot.
His voice was deeper and huskier than usual.
"Don't move," he murmured.
