Молодой господин бесстыден - Глава 64
She gave him a half-smile, and while he stood there dumbfounded, she turned and ran into the inner room. By the time he caught up, she had already bolted the bedroom door. He knocked on the door, but only one sentence came from inside: "Don't break down the door or leave. Wait for me a moment."
The scholar was restless and anxious, waiting outside for an unknown amount of time.
Finally, on the forty-ninth time he asked, "Is it done yet?", he heard a click, the sound of the wooden bolt being scooped off the door. Then came the reply from inside that made his heart leap: "You can come in now."
My initial eagerness subsided, replaced by a feeling of trepidation, similar to the anticipation of returning home.
The scholar slowly pushed open the door, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw the person sitting on the bed. Was he dreaming? He saw his wife, dressed in her wedding gown and with a red veil over her head, sitting on the new bed! Her hands were clasped on her knees, her posture so docile, as if she were waiting for him to lift her veil. Just as he couldn't control his racing heart, he couldn't control his steps either. When he came to his senses, he was already standing in front of the bed.
Beneath the veil, Fan Qingbo, who was orchestrating this scene, wasn't exactly relaxed either. As he approached step by step, until his shoes came into her view, all the awkwardness and shyness that had been previously ignored were brought back to the surface. She didn't speak, and neither did he, so their slightly warm breaths were amplified infinitely in the limited space, intimate and lingering.
He reached out his hand, trembling, and her heart began to beat rapidly.
He froze when he touched the red scarf, and she held her breath.
He hesitated and murmured, "If I uncover that face again, I will definitely kill him, but killing is wrong. All beings are equal, and no one has the right to arbitrarily decide another person's life or death. Besides, I am a scholar; I should be powerless to kill..."
She was stunned for a while before finally bursting out laughing, and her chaotic emotions were finally relieved.
As if assured by her voice, the person who had been hesitant seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and reached out again.
If she had previously regretted taking such a sentimental and cheesy approach, those regrets vanished when she saw the intense and complex expression on the scholar's usually gentle face. She tugged at her lips and gave a smile, "Happy birthday."
Since realizing she cared about him, Fan Qingbo began to think about him more and more frequently. Although he had never said it, what would a bride do if her attendant ran away on their wedding night and she lifted her veil to find a man? Things she hadn't cared about before now made her feel sorry for him. This feeling was so unfamiliar, yet she didn't reject it.
She found his birth date on the marriage certificate in the study and decided to spend her wedding night with him.
Seeing him staring blankly at her hair, she simply turned her head to let him see it clearly, "Sister-in-law Chen taught me how to style it, does it look good?"
"Beautiful." He stroked her hair, still in a daze.
She playfully pinched his cheek and smiled, "If you're good-looking, look closely. You won't find another like it." Combing hair is such a hassle. Trying to please a man is definitely not her thing. Next time, she'll just go back to her ponytail.
His hand moved from her hair to her face, lingering between her brows and eyes, gliding down her nose, tracing the shape of her lips, and finally lifting her chin. He looked into her eyes, which occasionally flashed with mischief, and his tightly pursed lips finally relaxed. "My wife, you're not angry anymore?"
She wrapped her arms around his waist and said seriously, "Considering that you listen attentively in class and have achieved academic success, I have decided to let you graduate early."
"Are you sure?" His eyes darkened.
“I couldn’t be more certain.” She said lightly, tossing aside the belt she had somehow taken off him, and gave him a languid smile, her voice surprisingly unrestrained, “Husband, come quickly, let’s indulge in debauchery in broad daylight!”
He suddenly grasped her hand and said softly, "Now that your lesson is over, my wife, it's my turn."
She suddenly widened her eyes, "You pressed my pressure points?" Her limbs were completely immobilized.
He kissed her incredulous eyes. "Your body bruises easily, so you're not suited to being tied up." Acupressure would be better.
"What bondage? What are you going to do? Mmm!" He kissed her lips, unlike before, fierce and violent. Fueled by desire suppressed for days, he frantically sucked and played with her tongue, seizing the fragrance from her mouth. She was quickly overwhelmed by all reason and began to respond to his madness passionately and defiantly.
After a long while, he stepped back slightly, his breath unsteady. He wiped away the saliva connecting their lips and said in a hoarse voice, "The lesson I want to teach my wife today is very simple, only four words."
"What?" Her thoughts began to drift.
"A woman obeys her husband after marriage." As the word "husband" was uttered, she was placed on the bed, and a dark shadow loomed over her...
As it turned out, he was not only a good teacher but also a good student. He applied everything he had learned from her in the previous days to her, actively exploring her sensitivities. This made her not only understand the meaning of a woman obeying her husband after marriage, but also the meaning of playing with fire and getting burned, and the meaning of not provoking a man with unsatisfied desires.
Her hair was disheveled, and her wedding dress was torn to shreds. In this helpless, passive, and utterly insecure situation, she began to feel an unprecedented sense of shame for her uncontrollable groans and screams.
"Ah... Husband... please acupuncture my speech-deafening point too..."
"Your voice is so sweet, it's such a waste to order it." He then gave a deep thrust, "Mmm!"
"Aaaaah...you...if you've got the guts, release my pressure points and we'll have a three-hundred-battle session—it's too deep, you bastard!"