The hospital bed was nowhere near as soft as the one at home; it had a distinctly hard texture.
But when Qin Yuhe hovered over Song Xinya, he felt as if he were sinking into a cloud—soft and warm.
Song Xinya wore a thin pink nightgown that revealed her neck, arms, and fair, tender legs.
Large areas of her smooth skin were exposed to the air.
Qin Yuhe, on the other hand, wore only pajama bottoms and was completely shirtless.
The friction of their skin was damp and scorching. Wherever his hands wandered, they were met with a comforting, cotton-like softness.
A girl's body truly lived up to the phrase "soft and boneless."
Qin Yuhe's breath was hot and moist, brushing past the corners of Song Xinya's lips, her ears, and her neck.
The tingling itch brought on by the heat sent waves of electricity straight up to the crown of her head.
Parting her lips, she panted heavily, her soft, raspy voice carrying a hint of pleading. "Qin Yuhe..."
"I'm here." Qin Yuhe's lips trailed from her neck, moving sideways along her delicate, slender shoulder.
His nimble tongue caught the thin pink strap on her shoulder, drawing it into his mouth and tugging it aside with his teeth.
The once neatly placed pink strap slipped down to her forearm, swaying tremulously.
"You're too much, Mrs. Qin. You actually wore underwear again tonight."
Song Xinya bit her lower lip with her pearly white teeth, humming softly, "So what if I did? You're just going to take it off anyway."
Qin Yuhe chuckled lightly. "Unsatisfied?"
Song Xinya replied, "The doctor said we can't sleep together until the wound on your abdomen heals."
Qin Yuhe countered, "We aren't sleeping together, we're just being intimate."
Song Xinya paused for a moment and asked, "Isn't that the same thing?"
Qin Yuhe said, "What do you think?"
What a smooth talker. It was exactly the same thing.
At the foot of the hospital bed was an iron railing.
Qin Yuhe glanced at Song Xinya's hands gripping the bedsheets and said, "Grabbing the sheets isn't secure enough. Hold onto the iron railing so you don't get bumped off the bed later."
Song Xinya: "..."
He reached out to lift the hem of her nightgown.
Her soft, pale hands tightly grasped his fingers. "Qin Yuhe, we can't do this..."
Thinking she was unwilling, Qin Yuhe asked, "How long has it been since we were intimate?"
It wasn't like a period where you had to remember the exact date every month. Who would remember the exact time they last did it with their husband?
Song Xinya replied, "I don't know."
Qin Yuhe said, "It's been eighteen days."
Song Xinya said, "That's not even that long."
Qin Yuhe retorted, "What kind of newlyweds only do it once every eighteen days? Even old married couples do it more frequently than that."
Song Xinya muttered, "Isn't that because you were injured? It's not like I deliberately withheld it from you."
"And it's not like we haven't been intimate. We kissed during the day today."
Qin Yuhe said, "Kissing doesn't count as being intimate."
Song Xinya asked, "Then what is it?"
Qin Yuhe replied, "An appetizer before the intimacy."
Kissing was an appetizer before the intimacy.
He grabbed her shoulders with both hands and turned her around so they were face to face.
She sat on the hospital bed, and he propped his arms on either side of her body.
It was a dominant, bossy, and highly aggressive posture. When he made this move, he looked incredibly seductive.
Qin Yuhe's dark, clear eyes stared at her as he said, "My hands can move, and my waist can move too."
As he spoke, the hot breath from his lips spilled over the side of her face and into the hollow of her neck.
Under the combined effect of the heat and his scorching words, Song Xinya shrank back slightly.
She lifted her head, her moist, glistening eyes looking up at him, taking in his appearance at that moment.
Black hair fell over his forehead, his brow bone slightly prominent. His water-dampened eyelashes were wet, his nose bridge was high and straight, his profile was sharply defined, and the curve of his jawline was distinctly angular.
He was shirtless.
It was a world of difference from his usual serious, suit-and-tie demeanor.
Charming, bewitching, and alluring.
Like a male demon specializing in devouring human hearts.
A male demon with firm pectoral muscles and an eight-pack.
Such a beautiful display of male flesh.
Who could resist!!!
Song Xinya's gaze lingered, tracing down from Qin Yuhe's chest to his abs.
Seeing her bright, burning eyes, the corners of Qin Yuhe's lips curled up.
He sat on the bed, leaning his back against the wall with a lazy, rakish air.
He reached out to her as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Come here."
Song Xinya turned, her delicate hips swaying as she crawled over to his side, looking at him with watery eyes.
Qin Yuhe's palm cupped her cheek. "Good girl."
His hand slid down her cheek, brushed over her lips, traced her chin, caressed her neck, and stopped right in the center of her chest, pushing her backward with a gentle force.
Song Xinya fell back like a toppled rag doll.
Qin Yuhe used his other arm to support her waist, scooping her into his embrace.
She tumbled onto his lap, her face and ears already burning hot.
Song Xinya hesitated between yielding to him and worrying about his injuries getting worse, her emotions constantly torn.
Qin Yuhe asked, "Do you want to check my hand?"
Remembering the scar-removal treatment he had just undergone, Song Xinya nodded. "I'd like to."
Qin Yuhe opened his palm to show her.
She didn't know if it was just her imagination, but as Song Xinya looked at the scar lines on his palm, she said, "It seems a bit lighter."
Qin Yuhe agreed, "It is a bit lighter."
So it wasn't an illusion. Holding his hand, Song Xinya was filled with joyous excitement. "That's wonderful! Really wonderful! It's working, Qin Yuhe!"
Qin Yuhe asked, "You don't need to worry about my hand anymore, do you?"
Song Xinya replied, "I'm still worried, but seeing that the burn specialist's treatment is actually working makes me feel there's hope for a full recovery. I'm just so happy, incredibly happy!"
Qin Yuhe looked at her crescent-shaped eyes and bright, pearl-like smile. "I can feel your happiness."
Overjoyed, Song Xinya cupped his face with both hands and planted a firm kiss on his lips. "Mwah!"
Qin Yuhe said, "Just one?"
Song Xinya lowered her head, leaning against his neck. Her soft, rosy lips took his Adam's apple, sucking on it gently but firmly.
Qin Yuhe's heart gave a violent jolt, his eyes darkening. "You're playing with fire."
Song Xinya's charming fox-like eyes slanted upwards, her gaze rippling and soul-stealing. "I am playing with fire."
Hearing the yielding and consent in her words, Qin Yuhe's pupils burned brightly.
He rolled over, aiming to pin her to the bed.
Her palms pushed against his chest. "Let me."
Qin Yuhe was pleasantly surprised. "Really?"
Song Xinya explained, "I'm worried the wound on your abdomen will tear open."
With a twist of her slender waist and a lift of her skirt, she straddled his lap.
Rustling sounds echoed in the hospital room.
Adrenaline surged.
Song Xinya's delicate body sank down.
Qin Yuhe let out a deep sigh of pleasure.
His hands gripped her waist, his fingers sinking into her warm, soft flesh.
Pressed tightly together, she could feel his heart pounding violently in his chest, beating right against hers.
Their heartbeats resonated, their breaths intertwined.
It was gentle and slow. On the narrow 1.2-meter bed, space was limited, and their clothes tangled messily together.
Before long, she was slumped over his shoulder, motionless.
He kissed her sweat-dampened forehead and chuckled softly, "Didn't you eat enough for dinner? Is that all the strength you have?"
What did he mean, she should take over? They were not even halfway there; he still had to take the lead.
His scent was different from anyone else's. There was no artificial trace of body wash or laundry detergent, just the deep, crisp scent of pure masculine pheromones, reminiscent of cedarwood in a forest.
Whenever he sweat, this masculine scent would only grow stronger.
Wrapping both arms around his neck, she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder. Through hazy, dewy eyes, she watched beads of sweat glide down his broad, powerfully lean back.
Both on her skin and deep inside her, she was entirely consumed by his scent of forest cedar...
