Lin Wan's hands trembled as she pulled her clothes together. Her back was damp and uncomfortable—neither properly dressed nor undressed—and she couldn't help but curse someone silently in her heart.
The man she was cursing stripped off his shirt as he walked over, revealing a powerful upper body. A thin sheen of sweat covered him, and under the flickering light of the television, every muscle glistened. Lin Wan turned her face away, reached for the remote on the coffee table, and switched the TV off.
The room fell into complete darkness. Chen Jin was already close. Warmth rushed over her as he went straight for her clothes. She instinctively raised a hand to block him, so he tugged at her pajama pants instead—his movements swift, almost savage. In the next instant, he pressed down over her, the impatience in him completely different from the man moments before.
When her skin met the air, Lin Wan shuddered and let out a soft whimper.
"Cold."
"It'll be warm in a moment," Chen Jin said through heavy breaths.
He freed himself just as quickly, his hands shaking as if holding back for even one more second would make him burst. After a long stretch of foreplay, her body began to melt like spring snow. Yet when he guided his burning, rigid heat against her softness and began to push forward, she still whispered in pain, her body tightening sharply.
He captured her slick tongue, tangling with it tenderly, saliva spilling freely between them. His hand slid to where their bodies met, gently stroking, helping her soften completely, murmuring at her ear to relax, not to be afraid. When her tense body loosened again, he entered her without warning.
At the moment he pushed all the way in, he let out a satisfied sigh. She cried out in pain.
Thankfully, he didn't move right away. The pain gradually turned into a dull ache, then into a faint pulsing deep inside her—his pulse answering the powerful heartbeat pressed against her chest. Buried inside her, he continued to swell, stretching her uncomfortably. She pushed at him lightly, the gesture too weak to tell whether it was rejection or encouragement.
He withdrew obediently. Halfway out, he lifted her leg and hooked it around his waist, thrusting it back in fully. Ignoring her protesting cry, he began to move, alternating deep and shallow strokes. Left with no way out, she clutched his arm, her nails digging in without mercy.
A sheen of sweat quickly formed on Chen Jin's forehead. As he moved, a drop fell into Lin Wan's eye, stinging enough to make her tear up. Annoyed, she swiped at his forehead, her hand coming away wet.
His movements grew larger, faster. He held her hips, leaving her nowhere to retreat, forcing her to take him completely. She couldn't bear it—her muffled groans were broken apart by his lips and tongue, dissolving into sobs. With every collision, she felt as though her bones might scatter. Her head swam; all she could hear was his rough breathing and the creak of the sofa scraping against the floor.
A thief-like fear welled up in her heart, making her want to silence every sound. That fear and unease only heightened her sensitivity. Suddenly, an electric spark bloomed at her tailbone, the current spreading rapidly through her entire body. Deep inside, her body began to contract uncontrollably. Her legs tightened around his waist, instinctively seeking to escape the overwhelming stimulation.
That was more than Chen Jin could handle. He had intended to perform well on their first night together after reuniting, but her sudden fervor threw him completely off balance. Overstimulated, he lost control far too quickly.
Still, he recovered fast. Without giving Lin Wan a chance to protest, he lifted her limp body and seated her astride his thigh, adjusted the angle, and began to thrust upward from below. When she finally caught her breath and started pounding his chest in protest, he said shamelessly, "Even if it's once a year, it should be four times, right?"
Trapped in his iron grip, Lin Wan could only pinch him here and there to vent her frustration. Chen Jin arched his back, buried his face in her chest, and inhaled deeply. Without warning, he bit down on her left breast. She angrily smacked his shoulder, but he ignored it and bit her hard again at her side.
This time she truly lost her temper. She grabbed his ear and yanked him away.
"Are you a dog? That hurts!"
Chen Jin didn't retort. Instead, he pressed his cheek against the bite mark and said softly, "Wanwan, I hate you."
She froze. Her grip loosened, and she replied distantly, "I hate you too."
He lifted his head, looked straight into her eyes, and mouthed, I love you.
She didn't respond. It was too dark for her to see.
After resting against her chest for a moment, he resumed, fiercer than before. He lifted her again and again, then slammed her down heavily each time. Every movement fit perfectly; every thrust was an accusation shaped by longing. On countless sleepless nights, he had yearned to be like this with her—entwined, consumed by her, becoming one. Even when desire found release by his own hand, the longing only sank deeper into his bones.
The greater the happiness of possession, the greater the fear of loss. If only he didn't love her.
Yet the words he most wanted to say were still: thank you.
The relentless friction, the deep impacts—pain mixed with a hidden pleasure. Lin Wan bit her lip, swallowing her screams. She felt his emotional turbulence without fully understanding it, yet somehow she did. The vulnerability beneath his brutality softened her heart until even the lightest touch ached.
She wrapped her arms around him, one hand stroking his back, the other cradling his head. Her cheek pressed against his damp, cropped hair as tears fell without warning. She didn't hide them. They flowed freely, onto his face as well. His movements grew faster, harsher. He lifted his head and kissed her frantically. One arm held her tight while the other reached down, finding a spot behind her thigh and pressing hard with a single finger—the Chengfu point, said to be a woman's sensitive trigger.
She began to moan uncontrollably as strange sensations rippled through her body, spreading outward in waves, growing stronger. She knew what it meant. Fear and anticipation tangled together, leaving her shaken. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, feeling his teeth at her neck—no longer painful. Sweat streamed down like water. Her mouth went dry, her breaths desperate, like a fish stranded too long out of water.
Suddenly, she lowered her head and a bit down hard on his bare shoulder. A familiar image flashed through her mind. Tears surged again. This man—this man gave her pain and pleasure beyond what she could bear. If she could, she would rather flee to the ends of the earth than ever cross paths with him again.
Her bite was as fierce as ever. Soon she tasted blood. The man holding her shuddered in pain but didn't make a sound, retaliating instead with a brutal thrust.
She whimpered, swallowing the metallic taste. As she reached to hold him, he tightened his arms around her. His scorching lips traced her cool face, kissing away every tear. Their bodies trembled together, breaths overlapping, faster and faster, until they crossed a threshold—like a taut string snapping with a sharp crack.
Freed from all restraint, they leapt from the mortal world into heaven.
Morning came. When Chen Jin woke, the little one beside him slept soundly. He kissed his son's cheek, only to have the boy squirm away, whimpering as the stubble on his jaw pricked him.
He got out of bed and went to wash up. Amid the buzz of the electric razor, memories of the night before resurfaced, pulling a smile to his lips. Despite barely sleeping, he felt refreshed. People said women needed love to stay radiant—men did too. Looking in the mirror, he seemed years younger.
While getting dressed, he tugged his injured left shoulder and cursed under his breath, nearly forgetting about it. Heartless woman.
Yet that same heartless woman, exhausted into a boneless heap the night before, still worried about his wound. She'd ordered him to fetch the first-aid kit, disinfected and dressed it herself, wrapped it carefully in plastic before allowing him to shower. Her hands were gentle, her voice asking if it hurt. He'd pitifully claimed it hurt terribly. She'd smiled brightly and said, Serves you right. At that moment, he'd nearly pinned her in the bathtub and—well—gone another round.
The living room was spotless in the morning sunlight, no trace of last night's intimacy. In the kitchen, Lin Wan stood with her back to him at the stove, wearing a light purple sweater and an apron. Her hair was loosely pinned up, revealing a pale, slender neck. Sleeves rolled high, she looked both alluring and domestic.
A phrase surfaced in Chen Jin's mind: perfect for home and marriage. He took out his phone and snapped a photo of her back.
She turned and spotted him, startled. She patted her chest and scolded, "What's wrong with you? Sneaking around this early to scare people."
She turned back to her work. Chen Jin walked over and hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. Smiling, he said, "Just looking at you. Miss you the second you're out of sight—it drives me crazy."
Her body stiffened. She wasn't used to this closeness. Thinking of last night made her ears burn. She pushed him away, face stern. "Go farther away. Can't you see I'm busy?"
"I'll help," he said.
Seeing her putting chopped vegetables and fruit into a bowl, he perceptively handed her the salad dressing. She stirred the colorful mix with a fork. It looked delicious—but what truly whetted his appetite was the sight before him. A loose strand of hair danced behind her ear with his breath; her earlobe flushed red under his gaze; her neckline dipped just a little too low.
Already embarrassed by his closeness, she felt his body heat rising and quickly sent him away. "Didn't you say you'd help? Go heat the milk."
He didn't move. Instead, he whispered in her ear, "Agree to one thing, and I'll go."
Without thinking, she asked, "What?"
"Marry me."
Her hand slipped. A piece of tomato splashed out of the bowl and fell to the floor. She didn't care. Staring at the salad, she said, "I'm not ready."
It went quietly behind her. His hands settled on her shoulders, gently turning her around. She met his sincere gaze as he looked straight into her eyes.
"Then I'll wait," he said. "Just don't make me wait too long, okay? Whatever the problem is, we'll solve it together."
He took her hands and enclosed them between his palms. "I want every day to be like this—waking up with you and our son, telling him stories at night, watching him fall asleep, then watching TV with you. You don't know… I woke up once before dawn and thought seeing you and Xiao Bao was just another dream. I pinched my thigh to make sure—"
She lowered her eyes, lashes trembling, and cut him off. "I know."
He smiled, lifted her hand, and kissed it lightly. "Oh, one more thing."
He pulled something from his pocket, took her right hand, and said, "Let's see if the size fits. If not, I'll have it adjusted."
By the time she realized it was a ring, it was already on her right ring finger—perfectly snug. The diamond sparkled in the sunlight as he stroked her finger with satisfaction. "Looks good. Just right."
She tried to take it off, but he stopped her. "Wear it."
"That's not appropriate."
"Just think of it as an engagement ring. We'll buy another later." He kissed her forehead and added, "Alright, I'll go heat the milk."
As he walked toward the fridge, Lin Wan spread her fingers, touched the ring again, sweetness rising quietly in her heart. Watching him bustle around, realization hit her all at once—
How did this turn into an engagement?