Song Xinya was dumbfounded.
So him eating the mulberries was all for her after all.
Qin Yuhe's words carried a playful tone, "To make your dreams come true, I ate eight boxes of mulberries in a row. Tell me, am I good to you or not?"
Song Xinya: "...Didn't you enjoy it yourself?"
Qin Yuhe: "How did I enjoy it?"
Song Xinya: "Your mouth enjoyed it."
Qin Yuhe added, "Other parts haven't enjoyed it yet."
Song Xinya shyly reached out to cover his mouth. "Don't say these things to me."
Qin Yuhe pulled her hand down. "If I don't say these things to you, who else can I say them to? Would you be willing if I said them to other women?"
Song Xinya: "No."
Qin Yuhe: "Understood. You like it when I say these things to you."
Song Xinya fell silent.
Qin Yuhe took it as tacit agreement.
He picked up a mulberry with his fingers and asked, "Do you want to taste the mulberry?"
Song Xinya: "No."
Qin Yuhe: "Say yes."
Song Xinya: "Yes."
Qin Yuhe fed a mulberry into her mouth.
The half-finger-long mulberry, round and thick, was half held in her mouth and half exposed to the air.
Her red lips tightly wrapped around the mulberry.
Qin Yuhe's dark eyes looked at Song Xinya holding the mulberry in her mouth, and he said out of nowhere, "Your mouth is so small."
Small, shallow, and tight—everywhere.
She struggles so much just to swallow a mulberry, what will she do later.
Song Xinya sucked on the mulberry, trying to swallow the whole thing into her mouth.
Qin Yuhe's lips pressed down over hers. His clean, sharp teeth bit into the mulberry, and the purplish-red juice splashed into her mouth.
Her bright white teeth were stained a deep, vivid color.
Immediately after, it was licked away by his invading tongue.
Her teeth returned to their lustrous white.
Since the two of them had already agreed on a five-time arrangement, there was no longer any reason to stop him from taking her to absolute bliss.
Mandarin duck pillows, dragon and phoenix quilts—Song Xinya's sexy lace-trimmed nightgown was stripped away, revealing her fair and tender body like an avalanche of snow.
Qin Yuhe hovered above her, his tall, powerful body casting a deep shadow that completely enveloped her slender frame.
Their entangled tongues tasted the sweetness of each other.
Her nails scraped across his bare back, like igniting a trail of scorching beacon fires.
At this moment, he was a general charging onto the battlefield, brave and fierce, with world-shaking strength, galloping without pause.
From the outside in, and the inside out, every inch of Song Xinya's body—even her very bones—burned with a continuous, tingling numbness.
Qin Yuhe gripped her waist, his voice extremely deep and hoarse, steeped in the wildness and lust unique to this kind of moment.
"Is dreaming better, or is doing it with me like this better?"
Song Xinya was struggling to breathe at this point, unable to form a complete sentence. The sounds spilling from her lips followed his movements—one light, one heavy, soft and delicate, as alluring as a succubus that could suck a man dry.
Why did he have to chat with her at a time like this?
What kind of question was he even asking?
Even if they were passionately entwined in a dream, a dream was just a dream after all. What was fake remained fake, and upon waking, she would only feel even more empty.
But now it was different. She could touch his smooth skin, feel his warm body temperature, and tightly embrace him just by reaching out her arms, solidly feeling the warmth and beauty that only skin-to-skin contact could bring.
"Mr... ah... Mr. Qin, a dream... can't compare to you... ah..."
At all times, Qin Yuhe could maintain his effortless composure, including right now.
He lowered his head to kiss her lips. The breath from his words drifted into her mouth, coaxing her.
"Why call me Mr. Qin? Call me Hubby."
Song Xinya bit her lip and didn't say it.
Instantly, it was like howling winds and flashing blades; the battle grew even more intense.
The first to surrender and lay down their arms was her, Song Xinya.
Releasing her bitten lip, she called out to him breathlessly, "Hubby."
Qin Yuhe: "Say it again."
Song Xinya: "Hubby."
Qin Yuhe pinched her chin and kissed her gently for a moment, his voice low and tight.
"Yaya is so good."
...
Scattered starlight, night as fluid as water.
The uncurtained windows perfectly displayed the brilliant starry sky tonight.
Song Xinya's consciousness was hazy, hovering in a state between wakefulness and passing out.
She had long since lost all track of time.
She wasn't sure how long had passed, but it felt like a very, very long time.
Even later, when Qin Yuhe stuffed a pillow under her back to support her aching waist, she didn't feel much better and, once again, cried uselessly.
He leaned down. His actions were fierce, but his tone was gentle: "Don't cry, Yaya, don't cry."
After coaxing her, he licked away her tears.
But he still didn't stop.
He firmly gripped the soft backs of her knees, absolutely refusing to let her escape from the battlefield.
Song Xinya felt as if she had fallen into the clouds.
Falling, blooming, joyous.
Dying over and over again, and being reborn over and over again.
Waves of pleasure washed over her repeatedly; she experienced the ultimate ecstasy that transcended life and death.
Every time she rolled over, she fell back onto the sweat-soaked sheets.
Her sweat mingled with his.
When it finally ended, she looked as if she had been pulled out of the water.
Exhausted to the point of near-fainting, Song Xinya was dazed but didn't forget to ask, "Will I get pregnant this time?"
Qin Yuhe: "Probably. After all, I ate so many mulberries."
Song Xinya murmured with her eyes closed, "I definitely, definitely need to get pregnant."
Qin Yuhe reached out to pick her up. "I'll carry you to the bathroom for a shower."
Song Xinya flailed her hands in resistance, swatting at him. "No shower, I won't wash. This is all the essence, it can't be washed away."
Qin Yuhe didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"You sure know how to be frugal. You want to keep everything, refusing to waste a single drop."
Song Xinya gripped the edge of the bed tightly. "I just won't wash."
Qin Yuhe: "Alright, no shower. I'll go get a towel and wipe the sweat off your body."
Song Xinya reluctantly agreed: "Okay."
She didn't forget to warn him, "Don't wipe it off."
Qin Yuhe clicked his tongue, feeling a bit of mixed emotions for a moment—
She didn't treasure him this much, but she certainly treasured his stuff.
Crown Prince Qin felt a bit jealous and sour in his heart.
He went to the bathroom, wet a towel with warm water, walked back to the bed, and gently helped wipe her body.
She had already fallen asleep from exhaustion.
This saved him trouble; he could do whatever he wanted, and she wouldn't argue with him anymore.
After finishing wiping her down, Qin Yuhe lay down beside her, hugging her from behind.
His arm brushed away her sweat-soaked hair that clung to her skin, and his thin lips landed gently, kissing the tender skin at the back of her neck.
He liked the afterglow because, at this time, she was covered entirely in his scent.
Perhaps his kisses triggered her fear mechanism regarding his fierce stamina. Thinking he was about to start again, she struggled to scoot out of his embrace.
Qin Yuhe leaned close to Song Xinya's ear and bit it gently. "If you can't sleep, and if you don't go to sleep, I'll just get back to business."
The little person in his arms stayed perfectly still, not daring to move, behaving so well.
