Sang Lu didn’t understand why Feng Yan’s gaze suddenly darkened.
Before she could process it, she felt the large hand gripping her waist begin to loosen.
Just as she was about to catch her breath, she saw Feng Yan push himself up.
Crossing his arms, he pulled off his T-shirt in one motion.
The lean, defined muscles of his abdomen came into view—sleek, powerful, and brimming with raw strength.
His entire body radiated a cold, detached aura, yet it was impossible to ignore the undercurrent of desire.
Still dazed, Sang Lu suddenly heard the sound of a drawer being pulled open.
In the silence of the night, even the smallest noises became amplified.
The rustle of a plastic wrapper being torn sent her heart racing.
When had he bought these?
And when had he placed them in the nightstand?
While she was showering?
Amid her scattered thoughts, his tall frame loomed over her.
He captured her lips, stealing her attention.
His kisses trailed down—slow, deliberate.
Her neck, her collarbone—each touch was a mix of gentle nips and possessive bites.
Her head tilted back instinctively.
The air between them grew thick with heat and a faint, damp tension.
Sang Lu felt herself melting like cotton, pliant under his touch.
Then, in an instant, her breath hitched.
Her fingers clenched the sheets, twisting them into deep wrinkles.
Her entire body stiffened.
Suddenly, a large hand wrapped around her wrist, guiding it up to rest on his shoulder.
"Relax."
Sang Lu gripped his shoulders, her nervousness channeling into her fingertips as her nails dug into the muscles of his back.
Feng Yan frowned.
He wasn’t faring much better.
Leaning down, he captured her lips again, this time in a slow, tender kiss.
Their breaths mingled, scorching hot.
Sang Lu’s heartbeat pounded erratically, each thump louder than the last.
After a while, she turned her head slightly, gasping for air.
In her peripheral vision, she caught sight of his defined chest, taut with exertion.
She shut her eyes.
Then, abruptly, her fingers twitched, and she pushed weakly against his shoulders.
Feng Yan paused, exhaling heavily.
Already…?
The difference in their sizes meant all she could see were the hard planes of his chest and the sharp lines of his shoulders.
His hot, labored breaths brushed against the top of her head.
Time blurred.
By the end, she was drenched in sweat, too exhausted to even lift her eyelids.
But the man beside her seemed to have energy to spare, effortlessly carrying her to the bathroom for a bath.
Steam filled the room as she sank into the tub, eyes closed, mind blissfully empty.
Afterward, she let him lift her again, too spent to protest.
Sang Lu kept her eyes shut.
Though she wasn’t usually one to seek security, she couldn’t deny the overwhelming sense of safety in his arms—as if she could trust him to handle anything, even if the sky fell.
Her arms looped loosely around his neck, her cheek resting against the broad slope of his shoulder.
It was a more comfortable position.
Feng Yan’s steps faltered slightly when her soft exhales ghosted over his neck. His brows furrowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
Just as Sang Lu was drifting toward sleep, a low, rough voice murmured in her ear:
"Again."
"???" Her eyes flew open, widening in disbelief.
What?
Feng Yan hadn’t asked.
It was a statement—a warning.
Before she could agree or refuse, the world spun. Her back met the cool surface of the bathroom counter.
Steam curled around them.
Sang Lu: "!!!"
She wanted to say something.
But words failed her.
The moment her lips parted, his hand slid downward, reducing her protest to a breathy whimper.
The bathroom lights were bright, casting sharp shadows across his striking features.
His dark eyes were intense, unreadable.
But only Sang Lu knew the truth—the searing heat of his skin against hers, the way his controlled exterior shattered in moments like these.
He wasn’t the composed, restrained man he appeared to be.
Not at all.
Then his gaze locked onto hers.
Sang Lu’s heart stuttered.
The sheer possessiveness in his stare was scorching.
Feng Yan’s expression left no room for doubt—he was in control, and he had no intention of stopping.
Sang Lu’s pulse raced.
She felt like prey, utterly at his mercy.
There was no escaping if he didn’t allow it.
Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, his sharp brows drawn low. The defined lines of his torso were sinfully enticing.
Meanwhile, her lashes were damp, her entire body flushed like overcooked shrimp.
The overwhelming mix of physical and visual stimulation was too much.
In that moment, Sang Lu realized she was only now truly seeing Feng Yan for who he was—uncovering the ruthlessness and dominance beneath his calm facade.
Her thoughts drifted for just a second.
But that was enough.
His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face toward him as he claimed her lips again.
Not a second of distraction was permitted.
Sang Lu squeezed her eyes shut.
She couldn’t bear to look.
With her vision blocked, every other sense heightened.
This was nothing like before.
Her heartbeat spiraled out of control.
She felt like she was drowning, desperate for air, for relief.
Just as she teetered on the edge, his large frame bent over her, his mouth sealing over hers.
The usually silent man grew uncharacteristically vocal.
His deep, slightly hoarse voice murmured praise against her skin.
"Good girl."
"You’re perfect."
"So perfect…"
Sang Lu burned with embarrassment, her entire body flushing crimson.
Dawn crept in, pale light filtering through the curtains.
She couldn’t remember how it ended.
Only that Feng Yan had carried her back to the tub, washing her gently once more.
She was still half-asleep, vaguely thinking to herself that she had already taken three showers today.
What a waste of water. So uneco-friendly.
Then, warm air rushed past her ears.
The hum of the hairdryer was too hypnotic.
Exhausted, she closed her eyes and drifted off.
Morning light seeped through the gap in the curtains, casting a faint glow on the floor.
Feng Yan carried the sleeping woman out of the bathroom and laid her on the freshly changed sheets.
He held her as they slept.
The soft sound of her breathing rose from his arms.
The air around them carried the sweet, clean fragrance of her skin.
A sense of contentment and ease, unlike anything he’d ever known, washed over him.
He took a shallow breath.
Suddenly, he froze.
His stomach tightened, and his brows furrowed deeply.
Sang Lu slept fitfully.
She kept dreaming of someone pointing a gun at her.
Terrified.
