Song Mo only felt something fragrant and warm in his arms, like a soft piece of jade, making his blood surge and his heart race. He didn’t feel any pain at all, instinctively rolling over.
Dou Zhao was startled, her hands pressing against Song Mo’s chest in panic.
Their eyes met.
Song Mo’s eyes sparkled like cold stars in the night sky, shimmering with brilliance.
Dou Zhao’s eyes widened in astonishment.
The silent inner chamber gradually filled with heavy breathing.
Song Mo’s eyes grew hazy with desire.
“Shou Gu!” he murmured softly, leaning down slowly.
Dou Zhao sensed “danger.”
Yet her mind flashed back to Song Mo riding on horseback, arriving at the farmstead where she lived in Zhen Ding, his gaze fixed on her from atop the manor head’s wall. She recalled him holding an inkstone under the lamplight, looking up with a smile to ask if her father would like it, his expression torn between hope and fear. She remembered him curled up cautiously by the bedside… Her heart was in turmoil, torn by conflicting emotions.
Should she push him away? Or let him do as he pleased?
Pushing him away felt too cruel.
But letting him have his way—the memories of her past life still lingered in her mind. Rationally, she knew she should embrace this relationship quickly, yet emotionally, she couldn’t bring herself to let go without hesitation.
Caught in hesitation and conflict, she bit her lip, turning her face away as if to escape, and gave him a light push.
Yet two blushes rose uncontrollably to her cheeks.
Dou Zhao’s rejection jolted Song Mo back to his senses. But the rosy flush on her delicate face made him realize immediately—if she truly had no interest in him, she could have shoved him away harshly or glared at him in anger… Yet Dou Zhao had only pushed him lightly and turned her face away.
Her fair, soft earlobes, round and plump, tempted his sight.
When there was no opportunity, he would have created one—how could he let such a perfect chance slip by now?
Without hesitation, Song Mo took one of those pale earlobes into his mouth, inadvertently brushing against Dou Zhao’s sensitive spot.
Dou Zhao shuddered as if struck by lightning, her body melting into numbness.
“Yantang, don’t…” She turned her face away.
Song Mo obediently released her but pressed close to her cheek, seizing the moment she spoke to capture her lips.
“Yantang…” Dou Zhao’s gasp melted into a soft moan.
Song Mo, like an awkward hunter, instinctively chased her sweetness, his tongue moving heavily between her lips, nearly suffocating her.
Idiot!
Idiot!
Dou Zhao cursed inwardly, squirming beneath him with muffled protests.
His tongue was nimble and strong—she couldn’t even manage to bite him.
Would she suffocate to death?
The thought flickered through her mind, but Song Mo withdrew.
She gasped for breath.
Song Mo also panted heavily, his gaze dark and unfathomable as it fell on her heaving chest.
“Shou Gu!” Before she could catch her breath, he leaned down again, his left arm wrapping around her slender waist, pinning her tightly beneath him. His tongue slipped deftly between her lips, savoring and teasing, while his right hand stealthily slipped inside her robe, groping until it cupped her soft breast. His fingers plucked at her nipple like strings, teasing it to life, while something hard and painful pressed insistently against her thigh.
Song Mo’s passion seemed to ignite in an instant.
Dou Zhao trembled all over.If she didn't stop him, she knew exactly what would happen next.
But if she did stop him, what would become of someone as proud as Song Mo?
Would he flee in panic? Or would he calmly release her and pretend indifference to save face before they each retired for the night?
As his wife, he had every right to claim her, yet out of respect for her wishes, he'd allowed himself to become so discomposed.
Whether the former or latter, Dou Zhao's heart ached at either thought.
If only she'd clearly refused him earlier when he'd pinned her beneath him.
Dou Zhao deeply regretted it.
But now, any refusal would come too late.
As if sensing her hesitation, Song Mo's arm around her waist tightened slightly. His tongue, lingering between her lips, grew more unrestrained, while his hand cupping her breast began kneading with deliberate pressure.
Intense waves of pleasure surged from deep within her body, radiating to every limb.
This familiar yet foreign sensation frightened her.
Familiar, because she'd briefly experienced such passion before; foreign, because it had been so long that she'd nearly forgotten it.
"Song Yantang!" Dou Zhao's voice escaped between Song Mo's lips, fragmented and unmistakably panicked.
Song Mo suddenly released her, staring intently into her eyes as if trying to see through to her very soul.
Dou Zhao grew uneasy.
Nothing she could say seemed appropriate.
Yet saying nothing felt equally wrong.
How had things come to this!
Song Mo was still just a youth inexperienced in desire.
Ultimately, it was all her fault.
Dou Zhao felt another pang of vexation.
Then Song Mo suddenly smiled.
Mirth rippled in his clear eyes, even the slight curve of his lips becoming enchantingly beautiful.
Dou Zhao stared, transfixed.
Song Mo began removing his clothes.
Dou Zhao's eyes widened involuntarily.
His physique was perfectly proportioned, his waistline particularly elegant—slender yet not bony, his skin like polished jade glowing faintly in the dim lamplight.
Song Mo laughed heartily: "Shou Gu, Shou Gu, how utterly delightful you are!"
He bent to kiss her eyelids with tender affection.
Dou Zhao's heart pounded wildly, her face burning crimson: "I wasn't... I..." but she trailed off in frustration.
No explanation could deny she'd been staring at Song Mo's naked form.
"Shou Gu!" Song Mo called her name with laughter, "I love when you look at me like this." His gentle tone brimmed with joy that spilled from the corners of his eyes, carrying an intensity that made her pulse race.
How utterly mortifying!
Dou Zhao's face burned hotter.
Song Mo cradled her face, tenderly kissing her forehead, brows, eyelids, then her red lips... as if she were some priceless treasure held carefully in his palms, cherished and protected.
Dou Zhao's chest swelled with emotion.
Then Song Mo grew passionate again.
He kissed her fiercely, his tongue boldly teasing between her lips, wildly exploring as if to devour her, leaving Dou Zhao breathless and squirming beneath him.
Her garments loosened, layer after layer slipping away.
By the time Dou Zhao realized, only her undergarments remained, her tender breasts like slightly unripe peaches standing proudly before Song Mo's gaze.
This scoundrel... had somehow mastered this without being taught...For some reason, Dou Zhao felt an urge to laugh.
Yet an unusual glint flashed through Song Mo's pitch-black pupils as he lowered his head, taking that bud-like nipple into his mouth, wantonly sucking and nibbling.
Dou Zhao gasped sharply.
But a numbing pleasure radiated from her tender breasts, setting her entire body aflame. Even the occasional pain from Song Mo's excessive force transformed into threads of sweetness, making her tremble.
Dou Zhao was astonished.
She hadn't been like this before.
She used to detest all roughness, considering it disrespectful.
But now, when Song Mo did the same things, she found them sweet.
"Song Yantang! Song Yantang..." Dou Zhao called out frantically.
Song Mo raised his head.
A flame danced in his dark eyes.
Meanwhile, her rosebud-like nipple glistened with a delicate sheen from his ministrations.
Unconsciously, Dou Zhao moistened her full, red lips.
Song Mo's eyes instantly darkened like midnight.
With a swift motion, he pulled down her undergarments and thrust inside.
Dou Zhao let out a muffled whimper, clinging tightly to Song Mo's neck.
"Shou Gu, Shou Gu!" Song Mo murmured against her ear, planting tender kisses as his warm breath brushed her neck with infinite tenderness. "It'll be over soon... just a little longer..." His eyes closed as he whispered comforting words, yet his body showed no sign of stopping its relentless rhythm, only growing faster.
What a brute of a man!
Dou Zhao winced in pain, beads of cold sweat forming, yet she could distinctly feel his wild movements within her.
Like a mischievous child exploring an unknown wonderland.
She took a deep breath and gently stroked Song Mo's back.
His skin burned to the touch, his back slick with fine sweat.
Her heart softened, her body gradually relaxing until the pain became bearable.
Under his steady rhythm, her body slowly opened, growing moist.
Sensing her change, Song Mo slowed his pace, biting her ear as he called out "Shou Gu." Before she could respond, he gripped her slender waist and thrust deeply, piercing through tightly wrapped petals to strike at her very core...
Was this really his first time?
Weren't first times supposed to be quick?
Why did he seem endless?
Dou Zhao groaned, a sheen of sweat appearing on her pale forehead as her body ached and swelled, overcome with irresistible heat.
She clung to Song Mo, her legs wrapping around his waist as moans escaped her lips...
※※※※※
Morning sunlight streamed in as Dou Zhao drowsily opened her eyes.
Her body ached as if she'd moved hundreds of flowerpots the night before.
With a start, she fully awoke.
The chamber was silent. Dressed in her everyday moon-white undergarments, she lay clean and alone on the carved nanmu bed. The fresh scent of jasmine filled the air, and the yellow chrysanthemum in the sweet white porcelain vase on the table remained as it was yesterday. Only the indentation on the mandarin duck pillow beside her hinted that yesterday's events weren't just a dream.
"Su Lan," she called out softly.
The door creaked open as Su Lan and Gan Lu entered with washing supplies.
Their faces brimmed with unconcealed joy."Madam," Su Xin treated her like a patient, helping her out of bed, "The Young Lord went to the palace and specifically instructed us not to disturb you. We waited outside without waking you."
Gan Lu even brought the saltwater rinse right to her.
Damn that Song Mo!
As if he wanted the whole world to know.
Dou Zhao shot them both a glare and said, "I'm not a child—can't I wash up on my own?"
Su Xin and Gan Lu merely pursed their lips in amusement, carefully attending to her.
Once she had freshened up, Su Juan brought in a bowl of black chicken soup: "The Young Lord ordered it first thing this morning."
OpenNovel