Her breath hitched as his scorching exhale brushed against her ear, the heat making her shrink back and retreat two steps.
Only to find her lower back already pressed against the writing desk—nowhere left to go.
He closed in again, his dark eyes like a bottomless abyss. "Hmm?"
He was too close. Her evasive gaze now had nowhere to hide, forced to land helplessly on his body.
Her lashes lowered slightly as she took in the sight of this entirely unfamiliar yet virile form—the defined chest rising and falling, the golden-brown skin textured enough to trace, a finger-width scar on his left shoulder like a sharp blade.
This was her first time seeing a man’s body.
"Any orders?" he spoke again, his head bowed, his deep voice slipping into her ears like deliberate temptation.
As if bewitched, she parted her lips. "I... need my hair undone."
His brow arched slightly. He raised a hand, fingers gliding over her hair, tracing the intricate updo before finally pulling out her hairpin.
Silken tresses cascaded down, tangling around his fingers.
His throat bobbed, his body’s restless energy barely restrained as his large hand caressed her long hair, murmuring, "Yangyang."
Sang Ning abruptly lifted her gaze, meeting those unfathomably dark eyes. "How do you... know my childhood name?"
He smirked. "You told me."
Her lashes fluttered. "Impossible."
"In your past life."
Such an absurd claim—of course she didn’t believe it. She’d sooner think he’d had someone investigate the Xie family thoroughly.
She blinked. "Oh?"
Noticing the dismissiveness in her eyes, he frowned slightly, displeased. "Of course."
She studied him, her gaze steady. "What else did I say?"
His dark eyes locked onto hers. "You said you loved me deeply."
She tilted her head slightly, confusion flickering in her eyes. "Loved you?"
He held her stare. "You fell for me at first sight, schemed ways to meet me, found excuses to hold my hand, then embraced me. Later, you confessed your feelings and even kissed me first."
She froze for three breaths, her petite face stiffening.
How dare this rogue spin such nonsense?
Yet his serious expression and the audible thud of his heartbeat made her pause.
Her lashes lowered as she pondered briefly.
When she looked up again, her clear eyes met his scorching, domineering gaze. Softly, she asked, "Like this?"
Then she rose slightly, pressing her lips to his.
His entire body stiffened, his heart skipping a beat. His hands clenched at his sides, muscles tensing as if ready to explode.
She was... kissing him.
The contact lasted only a moment before she pulled back—but he bent down, chasing her lips. One hand gripped her waist, the other cradled the back of her neck as he kissed her fiercely, desperately.
"Mmph—"
Her lips stung. She frowned, about to speak, but he seized the chance to deepen the kiss, invading her mouth as if determined to steal every last breath.
His burning palms roamed her body, the heat searing even through her robes, like a frenzied beast.
A shiver ran down her shoulders. Suddenly, she regretted provoking him.
"Wai—" She turned her head away.
But his large hand tore open her waist sash. His lips trailed from the corner of her mouth down to the delicate curve of her neck, his scorching fingers gliding over the smooth expanse of her bare back.
Her entire body trembled, her eyes fluttering helplessly as she melted against him.
His murmur was almost reverent. "Yangyang, no one knows you better than I do."
Her ambitions, her obsessions... and her body.
"You—"
He swept her into his arms and laid her on the soft bed, covering her lips again with his own. His voice was rough, barely restraining desire. "Yangyang, call me husband."
The gauzy bed curtains fell. The twin dragon-and-phoenix candles had long been extinguished, but the room’s scattered candlelight flickered on, burning late into the night.
The next morning.
A knock sounded at the door. "Madam, it’s time to rise."
Sang Ning’s lashes fluttered, her eyelids still heavy. She parted her lips, only to find her throat painfully hoarse.
A bowl of honeyed water was brought to her lips. She drank half before her throat felt somewhat soothed.
"Sleep a little longer," a gentle voice murmured by her ear.
So tender it felt like a different man entirely.
Her eyes flew open, meeting the familiar-yet-unfamiliar sight of his face up close—those sharp, domineering features now softened, his gaze dripping with warmth.
"You barely slept two hours. You need more rest," he said softly.
She was someone who needed at least eight hours to function.
Which was why, when she had important matters, she forbade him from touching her.
She stared blankly for three breaths before pushing him away with a frown. "No. I still need to pay respects."
His arm tightened around her waist. "It’s fine. I’ll send word that you’re unwell."
"Absolutely not. A new bride can’t skip morning greetings on her second day."
He leaned in, kissing her cheek. "I’ll handle it. Mother won’t mind."
"That’s not the point."
She shoved at him, turning her face away as she tried to sit up—only to ache all over, her strength sapped.
His gaze, however, drifted to the scattered red marks along her neck, trailing down beneath her white sleeping robes to places he could no longer see.
His eyes darkened further. His arm around her waist tightened, his breathing growing heavier as he leaned in. "It’s fine."
Then she felt it—the shift in his body. Her head snapped around, meeting those pitch-black eyes now brimming with hunger. Her pulse spiked.
"Yangyang," he rasped, drawing closer.
Instantly wide awake, she glared. "Get out."
