"Are you testing me?..."
After dinner, Ye Yansheng was putting the dishes into the dishwasher in the kitchen. Song Guanyu's kitchen here was well-equipped, saving a lot of time. Her kitchen was open-concept, so Song Guanyu sat on the island counter where she could directly see Ye Yansheng's back, her pale calves gently swaying in the air, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on Ye Yansheng as he tidied up the kitchen. She had eaten a bit too much tonight and needed to digest. But Ye Yansheng hadn't eaten much; he had spent almost the whole time peeling shrimp for her.
Moreover, she was in a particularly good mood today. She had written a song that she was very satisfied with, even humming a little melody and recording it. It seemed Yutou was right—creation requires emotional connection to get inspiration.
She was so absorbed in watching Ye Yansheng that when he finally finished cleaning up and turned around, he met her unwavering gaze. Song Guanyu didn't look away, just stared at him from afar under the warm light above. Ye Yansheng smiled, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes slightly hidden by his glasses. Two buttons of his shirt were undone, faintly revealing the lines of his pectoral muscles. He leaned lazily against the counter, his deep, shimmering eyes returning her gaze.
Tonight, Song Guanyu was like a little clingy monster, following everything Ye Yansheng did with rapt attention. He let her, enjoying the feeling of being constantly watched by her. He walked over to Song Guanyu, reached out, and pinched her cheek, saying with a smile, "You really do like me wearing glasses, huh." Looking at her dazed expression, he found her endlessly endearing.
With her cheek pinched, Song Guanyu's lips formed an 'O' shape, and her lashes fluttered as she responded, "Dr. Ye, don't pinch my face, I can't talk." She struggled in his grip but couldn't break free, so she let him hold her chin. Her cheek skin was delicate; even though Ye Yansheng wasn't using much force, a faint red mark appeared. His eyes darkened. She looked so fragile—if they ever did... that kind of thing, could he control his strength?
Under the lamplight, Ye Yansheng lowered his dark eyes, his heart racing, his excitement almost spilling over. His heartbeat felt like the bubble toy from childhood—bubbles with rainbow colors, refracting different hues in the sunlight, fragile and fleeting. Each soft pop of a bubble was like the intense palpitations he felt for Song Guanyu at this moment.
Blocking the light, he bent down. As his lips neared hers, he remembered what he had said that morning. He gave her a light 'smack' on the lips and quickly pulled back, not deepening the kiss.
She stopped struggling, mesmerized by Ye Yansheng's beaming smile, her lashes trembling in confusion. Ye Yansheng had kissed her again, and that morning's feeling returned. He suddenly met her eyes and whispered, "Was that kiss gentle enough? Did you like it?"
Song Guanyu's face instantly burned, the heat transferring to the fingers still pinching her cheek. She nodded dazedly, "I liked it... but I feel a strange sensation in my body, and it scares me a little."
"What strange sensation?"
Song Guanyu was stumped by his question. She frowned slightly, organized her words, and slowly said, "The feeling of wanting to be filled by you."
Ye Yansheng: "..." Under the light, he nearly couldn't suppress his laughter when he heard that. He let go of her face and gently rested his head against the side of Song Guanyu's neck, his laughter vibrating through her.
What was he laughing at? She didn't get it. Ye Yansheng sighed, turned his head slightly, and kissed the fragile skin on her neck.
"Song Xiaodai," he called.
"What is it, Dr. Ye? Did I say something wrong?"
He straightened up from her shoulder and suddenly lifted her into his arms. By now, Song Guanyu was completely familiar with this, naturally wrapping her arms around his neck and hooking her calves around his sturdy waist. He said, "You didn't say anything wrong. Let's go upstairs; I'll take you to bathe."
Ye Yansheng didn't do anything to her. They went straight upstairs, where he ran warm water into the bathtub for her, and Song Guanyu went in to bathe. The atmosphere tonight was perfect for something to happen between them. He had some dark impulses, and if he wanted, Song Guanyu would probably agree, but he couldn't bear to.
Men have physical needs, but when it's someone you like, that desire doubles, and so does the tenderness. He needed to wait for the right moment, at least until she understood that this wasn't something casual. It had to start with her beginning to like him, and he would teach her slowly.
Just as he was thinking this, he heard Song Guanyu calling him from the bathroom. He approached and heard her asking him to bring her a pair of underwear—she had forgotten to grab one.
Ye Yansheng went to her wardrobe, opened the small drawer she had mentioned, and pulled it open. Immediately, his pupils darkened a few shades, and his Adam's apple bobbed. He could hear himself swallowing. His hand trembled slightly as he hooked a strap and pulled it out.
Just then, Song Guanyu seemed to remember something, wrapped in a towel and still dripping wet, she rushed out: "Dr. Ye, wait!—" But she saw Ye Yansheng's slender fingers holding a lace thong, delicate straps, and... bright red.
The red tangled around his fingertips, forming a decadent, vivid color. Song Guanyu had remembered that Xu Jiayu had given her some intimate clothing a while ago, saying she would need it when dating. She hadn't thought much of it at the time; she had washed it and left it in the drawer, never wearing it once.
She stood completely frozen, her toes curling nervously against the floor. Ye Yansheng heard the sound and slowly turned to look at Song Guanyu, the veins on his temples pulsing rapidly.
Under his intense stare, Song Guanyu felt goosebumps all over. She turned her head slightly, trying to stay calm: "Just... just put it down. I'll find it myself." But her feet wouldn't move; she couldn't budge an inch. She was on the verge of tears. "Put it down!"
Seeing her about to cry, Ye Yansheng barely managed to clear his throat and set the item down. "I've put it down. You come find it yourself." He then stepped back, gesturing for her to come.
Nervously, she shuffled over, sneaking a glance at him while moving. He wasn't looking at her, his face turned aside. She quickly grabbed a pair and turned to dash into the bathroom. But suddenly, a pair of hands circled her slender waist, making her unable to run.
Their burning body temperatures pressed together. He held her tightly from behind, his voice hoarse: "Are you testing me?" His lips pressed against the side of her neck, then his teeth gently nibbled her red earlobe. Song Guanyu shuddered, her legs going weak, and she sank into his robust chest, her voice trembling: "...No."
"Yes, you are." He let go of her earlobe, turned her around to face him.
The faint incense in the room made them hazy. A small琉璃 lamp on the bedside table emitted a weak light. The space bred a burning atmosphere. If Ye Yansheng had been able to control himself earlier, now he wasn't so sure.
His deep, husky voice emerged, laced with desire: "Song Xiaodai, do you want to know what it feels like to be filled?" His large palm gently cupped one side of her face, his thumb ambiguously stroking her earlobe, making Song Guanyu's scalp tingle.
"Help me out, okay?" His tone was even more sultry and deep.
Song Guanyu looked up in a daze. She had always thought Ye Yansheng's voice was wonderful—warm, deep, tender—she had heard it all. But just now, his voice carried a quality she couldn't quite identify.
His glasses were still on; his shirt had some wrinkles at the chest. Ye Yansheng's dark eyes, so close, radiated danger, reflecting only her figure—only her, nothing else. Song Guanyu's ears burned red. Her face, the size of a palm, nodded slightly in his hand.
Ye Yansheng slowly leaned in, not closing his eyes but half-lidded, watching her reaction. He tilted his head and first very carefully touched her lower lip. Song Guanyu felt the cold metal of his glasses frame against her face. Her breath caught for a moment. She imitated what Ye Yansheng had done earlier, gently responding by holding his lower lip and licking it with the tip of her tongue.
Ye Yansheng's pupils immediately darkened. He followed suit, using a little pressure on her lips, his tongue gently teasing, wanting to kiss her tenderly. The sounds of moist kisses filled the air. Between their parted lips, he said, "Can I use a little force?" With her permission, he gradually deepened the kiss.
They explored each other. When Song Guanyu was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, Ye Yansheng asked her to help him take off his glasses—they were in the way. Her eyes glazed over, she followed his instructions and removed them.
As soon as the glasses were off, Ye Yansheng scooped her up and strode toward the bathroom. The two of them tumbled into the large bathtub filled with warm water. White bubbles covered the surface, with rose petals floating on top. The aroma candle was still burning, filling the bathroom with a rich rose fragrance. Song Guanyu knew how to enjoy life. When she bought this bathtub, she insisted it be big enough and have massage functions. She never expected this large tub to become a place for her and Ye Yansheng to play.
The sound of water splashed wantonly, the steam rising, growing thicker. They kissed for a long time. Song Guanyu was about to cry. Between breaths, she pushed Ye Yansheng away. Her eyelashes were wet from the water, her eyes reddened—obviously from his kissing. Her voice carried a hint of tears as she glared at him: "You tricked me. There's no feeling of being filled. I feel more uncomfortable now." Ye Yansheng wasn't much better. He had brought her into the bathroom just to kiss her. Last time when she was drunk, they had bathed together. He had seen every inch of her body clearly.
His white shirt clung to his firm, muscular body, the outlines of his muscles more pronounced. His short black hair was already wet, pushed back from his forehead. Without the bangs covering it, Ye Yansheng's wet hair was seductive. His features were striking, and without any cover, his face was even more sculpted and deep—he looked like a demon. His lips were red. Meanwhile, Song Guanyu's towel had disappeared long ago, which made her feel even more aggrieved. Why was Ye Yansheng's shirt still intact on him, while her towel had been ripped off the moment they entered the bathroom and tossed God knows where?
She tried to get up to find it, but Ye Yansheng grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, making her fall into his arms. He held her tightly, then pressed her against the bathtub and continued kissing her—forehead, tip of the nose, earlobes, lips—he didn't spare any spot. Her slender neck bore the marks he had left.
Finally, Ye Yansheng thought of something. He didn't want her to suffer, so he lifted her out of the tub again and gently set her on the sink counter. Song Guanyu's back and the view in front of her were both mirrors. She saw in the mirror in front of her Ye Yansheng kneeling down. Song Guanyu's fingers immediately tightened in his hair.
Outside the window, the wind rustled the trees, intertwined with the faint sound of a kitten mewing.
Author's Note:
Tsk... Dr. Ye, you're really bad.