Song Xinya lay on the double bed, her whole body sunk into the soft silk sheets.
Above her was the body of a mature man.
Hot, lean, powerful.
The air in the bedroom seemed to grow thin, the scent of male hormones spreading with every breath she took.
They said that remembering someone through the body was far more profound than remembering them through emotion. When two people fit together in bed, it was like smoking opium—you could become addicted to the other person’s body.
Nothing could have described Song Xinya’s feelings more aptly.
She was addicted to Qin Yuhe’s body.
Deeply addicted.
Qin Yuhe had not even done anything yet. He was merely braced on either side of her, and she already felt like a shrimp rolling in boiling water, flushed pink all over and on the verge of being cooked through.
She was eager.
And a little afraid.
Because Qin Yuhe was usually such an elegant, refined man—but once he got started, he was like a beast.
Incredibly, exceptionally, terrifyingly fierce.
Every time, Song Xinya would be driven unconscious.
It felt as though tiny kitten claws were scratching at her heart, leaving her restless with longing.
Yet there was also the fear of facing a wild beast.
A little scared.
Song Xinya’s long lashes were lowered. Even without looking up, she could clearly feel his gaze, like warm feathers sweeping inch by inch across her cheeks, stirring up a searing heat.
Her toes curled. The flames inside her crackled fiercely, urgent and impatient.
Why hadn’t he started yet?
He was still hovering over her without moving. Did he expect her to make the first move?
In bed, what was the difference between a man who never took the initiative and expected the woman to do everything, and a eunuch?
Song Xinya pushed lightly against Qin Yuhe’s chest.
The moment her palm touched him, he caught her hand, lacing their fingers together and pinning it beside her pillow.
Qin Yuhe’s voice was hoarse beyond recognition, as though it had been ground out from the depths of his throat.
“Why are you avoiding me? You don’t want to do it?”
Song Xinya would never admit that she was desperate for it.
She casually came up with an excuse. “You rejected me just now.”
Qin Yuhe said, “I was joking. I was teasing you.”
Song Xinya said, “Even as a joke, that’s not okay. Being rejected over something like that hurts a woman’s pride.”
“Then forget it. We’re not doing it. Get off.”
Qin Yuhe bent his supporting arms, erasing the tiny distance between them.
He thrust against her hard.
“Are you sure?”
Song Xinya wasn’t sure.
Her thoughts were in disarray, desire stirring restlessly inside her.
That sort of thing didn’t necessarily have to be initiated by the man. If she had to take the initiative, then she would. It wasn’t that big a deal.
Who started it didn’t matter. Feeling good was what mattered.
Yes—her resolve was that weak. She was that greedy, that hungry for him.
Qin Yuhe gave her no chance to take the lead. He lowered himself and pressed firmly over her.
When desire surged too intensely, it became hunger—the urge to swallow the other person whole.
So he leaned down, his tongue tracing along her cheek. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, where light, rain-soft kisses heated into scorching, savage bites, like a beast tearing into its prey.
His lips and hands took turns exploring her body thoroughly beneath the hazy, intimate light.
His large hand kneaded her hard, weighing her in his palm and feeling the heavy fullness of her.
“Have you lost weight again lately?”
Song Xinya was like a beach, rising and falling beneath the relentless tide that was Qin Yuhe. He said just three simple words, and she could barely get them out between gasps.
“No... ah, no.”
Qin Yuhe asked, “Then why are they smaller?”
Song Xinya’s hands were pinned beside her pillow, leaving her unable to move. She lifted a foot and kicked at him.
“Bastard.”
And he had the nerve to complain.
When had he ever not enjoyed himself?
Pouting, she said, “Then go find someone with bigger ones.”
Qin Yuhe covered her pursed lips with his. “I won’t. I only like yours.”
A spark raced across dry grassland, setting everything ablaze at the slightest touch.
He kissed her while...
Each movement was heavier than the last.
...
After being put through the wringer all night, Song Xinya was practically half-dead.
The next morning, the alarm went off eight times without waking her.
Qin Yuhe scooped his sleeping wife out of the blankets and held her in his arms. “Aren’t you getting up for work?”
Song Xinya kept her eyes closed, her eyelashes trembling.
It was as though every bone had been pulled from her body. Her limbs were weak and limp, like a collapsed sponge. Even rolling over took effort, and the slightest movement made her lower back creak in protest.
She could not even crawl out of bed.
Work, my ass.
In a voice as faint as a thread, she managed two words: “Not... going.”
“I’ll get you the day off,” Qin Yuhe said.
The company belonged to him, anyway. Whether it made a profit or ran at a loss was just a matter of money to him, and he did not care.
Qin Yuhe took a day off for her.
Song Xinya slept like the dead in bed.
She did not wake until ten that night.
Fortunately, she was in fairly good health. If she had been one of those delicate, Lin Daiyu-type women, Qin Yuhe might have worn her out so thoroughly that she would have dropped dead in bed.
After waking, Song Xinya used an ovulation test strip.
One line.
Negative. Her follicle was still developing.
She lay sprawled across the bed, arms and legs spread wide.
Sigh...
She wanted so badly to see two bright red lines.
That would mean she was about to ovulate.
Song Xinya hugged her quilt and rolled around on the bed several times. Then she reached over to the bedside table, found a blister pack of folic acid, popped out a tablet, and tossed it into her mouth like candy.
As she chewed, she muttered that the Qin family’s offspring really were hard to conceive.
Even the process of being made was this difficult. The precious little Qin prince or princess certainly had high standards.
Song Xinya muttered to herself for a while, then fell asleep again.
Qin Yuhe had a great deal to deal with that day and came home very late.
Apart from being imaginative, energetic, and technically flawless, he also had one virtue in bed: he would never wake her up after she had fallen asleep and demand that she keep him company.
That night, Song Xinya slept peacefully.
The next morning, she arrived at the office bright-eyed and full of energy, looking especially radiant.
Good Samaritan Chen Siyan asked with concern, “Teacher Song, why did you take yesterday off?”
“I had something to do,” Song Xinya replied.
“What was it? A whole day has passed, and your voice is still hoarse.”
Song Xinya: “...”
“Did you scrape up your throat too?”
Song Xinya: “...”
“And are your knees bruised too?”
Song Xinya turned to look at him and politely gave him a one-word response: “Get lost.”
Chen Siyan burst into loud laughter, his grin thoroughly lecherous.
After buying a sandwich downstairs, Zhao Yinian came in through the entrance, her eyes fixed directly on Song Xinya’s neck.
The moment she spotted the little strawberry, her face twisted. Her ankle gave way, and Zhao Yinian slammed face-first into the wall.
Chen Siyan said, “President Qin and Mrs. Qin are getting intimate. Why the hell are you so worked up?”
Zhao Yinian steadied herself against the wall and glared at Chen Siyan, fire practically shooting from her eyes. “I’m worked up over your damn ass.”
With a lazy, cocky air, Chen Siyan said, “So you’re coveting your big brother’s body? Then you’d better get in line. There are so many women who like me, they could hold hands and circle the globe three times.”
“How can there be so many blind women?” Zhao Yinian snapped. “There are so many men in the world, yet they insist on liking a piece of foxtail grass like you.”
“Better than liking a pitcher plant like you,” Chen Siyan shot back. “Not only are you inedible, you’re poisonous.”
“You’re the pitcher plant!”
“I’m your daddy.”
Zhao Yinian raised her arm and hurled the sandwich in her hand at Chen Siyan’s face.
Chen Siyan lifted a hand and caught it neatly. “Giving me a sandwich too? You really do have a crush on me.”
“Give me back my sandwich,” Zhao Yinian demanded, holding out her hand.
Chen Siyan unwrapped the plastic film, lowered his head, and took a huge bite. Then he held it out to her. “Here.”
Zhao Yinian exploded. “You already took a bite! It’s covered in your saliva now. Who would want to eat that? Who would want to eat that?”
“I would,” Chen Siyan said. “I’d happily eat it.”
He lowered his head and took another large bite. “Delicious.”
Having skipped lunch, Zhao Yinian was so furious that she felt full anyway.
She headed toward the office, and a sheet of paper slipped out from the stack of documents in her hands.
Still dizzy with rage from Chen Siyan’s antics, Zhao Yinian didn’t notice.
Chen Siyan hurried over and picked it up. The moment he saw the words on it, it was as if he had stumbled upon some huge secret. His eyes widened, and he let out a shocked, “Holy shit.”
Chen Siyan had seen a lot in life. It was rare for anything to surprise him this much.
Whatever could startle him so badly had to be extraordinary.
Song Xinya asked, “Manager Chen, what did you see?”
