Chapter 53: Feimei’s Gift
The dressing room was small, walled with the same pale bamboo. A single lantern hung from a hook in the low ceiling.
There was a small bench in the room.
Kian followed Feimei in and gently closed the door just enough that they won’t be visible.
Feimei stood with her back to the entrance, and when the door clicked shut behind Kian she turned.
"You are quite eager," she said, somewhat surprised.
Kian felt his heartbeat quicken as he stared at the stunning woman. "Why wouldn’t I be eager?"
He cupped her face and gave her lips a few kisses. She did not resist, just pushing his chest a little to make sure he was not too eager.
He kissed her again, slower this time. Her red, beautiful lips parted under his, and the taste of her—warm, faintly sweet, like the juice she’d been drinking—flooded his senses.
Her hands stopped pushing and flattened against his chest, fingers curling into the damp fabric of his inner robe.
Feimei made a soft sound, half sigh, half surrender.
Her body leaned into his, the wetness of her skin seeping through his clothes, and Kian felt the heat of her through the thin layers.
The kiss deepened, his tongue finally entering the deepest parts of her mouth, and for a moment there was nothing but the slide of her tongue against his and the steady thrum of his own blood answering hers.
Hmm...
Kian pulled back just enough to see her face.
A tiny bead of blood welled at the corner of her lower lip where his teeth had caught the soft skin.
He hadn’t even felt it happen. Iron Skin technique or not, his body was harder than it used to be, and she hadn’t complained.
"Oh," he murmured, and leaned in again. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that."
He sucked the small bead of blood from her lips. The taste of copper dissolved on his tongue, faint and intimate, and he let his lips linger against hers for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
"Did that hurt?" he asked.
She touched her lip with her fingertip, examining the tiny smear of red with an expression Kian couldn’t quite read.
"No," she said, and the word came out almost wondering. "I barely noticed."
Her red eyes lifted to his, and there was something new in them—curiosity. It was as if she were studying a creature she hadn’t expected to find.
"What do you want to do, exactly?"
Kian didn’t answer with words. His hands found her shoulders and guided her backward until the edge of the bench caught the back of her knees.
She sat with a soft exhalation, looking up at him, water still beading on her collarbones.
He knelt before her and slid one hand beneath the short sports bra, feeling the warmth of her skin, then peeled it upward.
She lifted her arms to help him, her eyes never leaving his face, that same patient curiosity guiding every movement.
The bra came away and Kian let it drop to the bamboo floor without looking.
Feimei’s breasts were fuller than either of her daughters’, pale and heavy, the nipples a dark rose that tightened under the cool air of the dressing room.
He cupped one in each hand, thumbs brushing the peaks, and watched her face. She seemed very curious.
He could hear ust the slight hitch of her breath, the way her chest rose to meet his palms.
Smiling, he bent his head and drew one nipple into his mouth. The taste of her skin was clean, warm from the spring, with a faint salt beneath that he chased with the flat of his tongue.
Feimei’s hand came up to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through his wet hair, and she pulled him closer. "Slower," she said.
He sucked harder, grazing the sensitive peak with his teeth, and she made a low sound—something between a gasp and a hum—her thighs pressing together on the bench.
He switched to the other breast, laving it with the same slow, deliberate attention, his hands kneading the soft weight of her while his mouth worked.
His mouth left her breast with a wet, lingering sound, and his hands slid down the curve of her waist, fingers hooking into the waistband of the black trouser-panties.
He looked up at her, a question unspoken, and Feimei met his gaze with that same patient curiosity, her red eyes half-lidded now.
She lifted her hips from the bench without being asked, a small, almost imperceptible motion, and Kian pulled the soaked fabric down her thighs.
The garment peeled away wetly, clinging to her skin before releasing with a soft snap, and he dragged it past her knees, her calves, and finally off her ankles, dropping it beside the discarded bra.
Feimei sat bare before him, her legs parting just enough to let the warm steam curl between them, and Kian placed his palms on her inner thighs, spreading them wider as he drank in the sight of her.
"How does it look?"
"Tempting."
She was completely smooth there, and the faint scent of the hot spring mingled with something muskier, something that made his mouth go dry.
He leaned in and gave it a little kiss.
Feimei’s back arched off the bench the moment his kiss found her.
Hmmm~
Her fingers tightened in his hair, not guiding now—just holding on, knuckles white against his scalp. "Wait, I can’t handle something like that without an orgasm. Just do that to my daughters, you can be more raw to me."
"I see."
Kian nodded, understanding.
He didn’t argue about an arrangement with his lover; he simply stood up and stripped off his wet underwear, tossing it aside with a wet splat.
She looked at his humongous member with a smile. "It is indeed something."
Lifting her by the waist, he turned her around and bent her over the bench.
"Like this?"
She gasped, her hands gripping the edge of the bench, her wet hair falling over her face as she looked over her shoulder.
He rubbed her clit, making sure it was wet enough.
It was.
Kian aligned himself, pressing against her from behind, and rubbed his member up and down on her.