Chapter 119: Sensitivity
Page 1/3
Song Qingyou slowly leaned closer to him. Under the dim lighting, the two were so near that their breaths intertwined, charged with ambiguous tension. She raised her hand gently, each movement seemingly slowed by half, her fingertips resting on the man’s prominent Adam’s apple.
Fu Wenzhou’s breathing suddenly grew heavy, and Song Qingyou could feel the sensual pulse beneath her touch. Her fingertip pressed against the thin skin, applying pressure before she kissed it.
Fu Wenzhou’s breath caught, stunned by her actions, his voice strained, “Sister…”
Her fingertip traced upward, delicate and soft kisses following its path, gradually spreading to the corner of his lips, where she brushed lightly before slowly pulling away, lifting her eyelids to meet his gaze. “Shall we?”
“Wh-what?” Fu Wenzhou’s chest rose and fell violently, his eyes reddening instantly. Thinking he misheard, he repeated, “Sister, what did you say?”
Song Qingyou reached up and patted his face, standing on tiptoe to whisper beside his ear, “Stop pretending, Fu Wenzhou. The things you hid in the cabinet—I saw them.”
Fu Wenzhou’s eyes reddened instantly, his mind seemingly frozen, unable to process. The things in the cabinet…
His voice trembling, as if restraining himself to the utmost, he asked, “C-could… it be possible?”
Could he really do that to his sister…
Song Qingyou kissed him again, their lips meeting, finally giving the little dog his command: “Yes.”
Fu Wenzhou’s breathing suddenly became rapid. He scooped Song Qingyou up horizontally, ignoring the injury on her leg, like a beast long awaiting its prey, or a primal animal returned to its instinct.
He hurriedly rummaged through the props in the cabinet, pressing down on Song Qingyou. Even in such a moment, he cautiously and tentatively said, “I’ll be careful, I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Though Song Qingyou’s body was weak, Fu Wenzhou had always sustained her with precious medicines, so an occasional wild night wouldn’t harm her.
She bit the corner of Fu Wenzhou’s lips—truly bit.
“You’re actually quite ordinary. It really won’t hurt.”
The scent of blood spread. The once icy, pristine eyes gradually darkened with desire. Fu Wenzhou’s favorite sight was always Song Qingyou beneath him.
But this woman had just said:
“You’re quite ordinary.”
Ordinary.
Heh.
Page 2/3
Fu Wenzhou’s tongue pressed against his lower molars, his eyes deep and unfathomable.
In a daze, Song Qingyou seemed to hear the crisp chime of a bell, clear yet faintly sticky.
As the winter snow began to melt, a subtle breeze slipped through the window crack, caressing the man’s lean waist. In the next second, Song Qingyou was flipped over, her back damp with light sweat, her cheek buried in the pillow as soft sobs escaped.
Fu Wenzhou kissed the wet corner of her eye. “Baby, you’re too sensitive.”
His voice was tender beyond measure yet struck hard and deep.
Tears she had just wiped away welled up again. “It’s not…”
“Then why?”
Song Qingyou bit her lip, keeping silent.
Fu Wenzhou thrust sharply once more, chuckling lowly, “Is it because your husband is impressive?”
Near dawn, Song Qingyou finally paid the price for calling him “ordinary.”
The previous night had been too indulgent. She slept until afternoon, waking groggy and stumbling out of bed. The moment her toes touched the floor, something slick flowed between her legs.
Song Qingyou stiffened, warmth rushing to her earlobes, and hurried into the bathroom.
Usually, after they were done, Fu Wenzhou would clean her up, but because of her “ordinary” remark, he retaliated by leaving things inside her.
The bathtub was already filled with perfectly tempered hot water.
Song Qingyou lay in the tub, soaking her aching body, feeling as if she had been completely emptied.
She bathed for two hours before feeling any relief.
Coming out of the bathroom, Fu Wenzhou stood obediently by the door holding a tray.
Song Qingyou glanced at him and sat down.
Fu Wenzhou immediately set down the tray and fetched a hairdryer to dry her hair.
She coughed lightly and spoke in a hoarse voice that was hardly her own, “You…”
She clearly startled herself, expecting a hoarseness but not this severe.
Fu Wenzhou nervously rubbed his nose, not daring to utter a word, gently continuing his task.
“Throw away all those messy things,” Song Qingyou said expressionlessly, her voice hoarse.
Page 3/3
Fu Wenzhou stopped and spoke in a low tone, “Why? Didn’t you…”
“Shut up.” Song Qingyou took a deep breath, her cheeks flushed crimson. “Throw them away.”
Fu Wenzhou bent down, lifted her chin, a slight arch to his brows, and whispered, “Sister, didn’t you enjoy last night? Why the cold shoulder now after sleeping?”
Song Qingyou’s beautiful eyes lifted lightly. She bit his hand directly.
“Tsk,” Fu Wenzhou hissed, “little wildcat.”
He said it, but didn’t pull his hand away, letting her bite.
When she released him, he lifted his arm to examine the mark. The bite was deep but hadn’t broken the skin.
Fu Wenzhou raised an eyebrow, a bit dissatisfied, feeling she hadn’t bitten hard enough to leave a lasting mark.
He reached out, voice deepening, “You need to bite harder, Youyou.”
He pulled aside his collar, revealing the bite mark on his collarbone, blood seeping around the teeth marks clearly visible.
He said, “Just like last night.”
Song Qingyou: …
Why is he such a flirt?
Unable to understand, she stared at the bite mark on him, doubting herself.
Did she really bite that hard last night?
She recalled those blush-inducing, heart-racing moments, a flush rising in her body, her breath growing rapid.
Suddenly, a phone rang abruptly, snapping her back to reality.
She pushed Fu Wenzhou’s handsome face away and answered.
“Uncle Chang?”
Song Chang’s voice was urgent: “Miss, the incident at the Song family last night has already spread. The board is in uproar, threatening to come after you for an explanation, or else they’ll collectively sell off their shares.”