Chapter 193: The One Room [II] +18
He obeyed, shrugging out of the dark layers until his chest was bare. The lamp painted shadows across the lean muscle of his torso, and he watched Qingyue’s throat bob as she stared. Her hand lifted, hesitated, then pressed flat against his sternum. Her palm was cool, and he could feel the slight tremble in her fingers.
"You’re warm," she murmured, almost to herself.
"Your turn," he said, his voice rougher than he intended.
She nodded, a quick jerky motion, and turned her back to him. Xuan’s hands weren’t entirely steady as he worked the ties of her outer robe. The silk slipped away, then the inner layers, until she stood in just her thin undershift. She turned back around, arms crossed over her chest in a gesture that was more defensive than she probably realized.
"Hey," he said softly, cupping her elbows. "It’s just me."
Qingyue let out a shaky exhale and dropped her arms. "I know. That’s the problem. It’s you. I’ve never... I don’t let people see me like this."
The undershift pooled at Qingyue’s feet, leaving her bare and trembling before Xuan. He exhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat. The lamplight carved the soft curves of her body into sharp relief, her skin flushed pink under his gaze. She was—fuck, she was perfect. Not just in the way that made his cock throb, but in the way that made his chest ache. The way her hair spilled over her shoulders, the way her red lips parted as if she couldn’t decide whether to speak or kiss him again.
He didn’t realize he’d gone still until Qingyue cleared her throat, sharp as ever despite the tremor in her voice.
"Lost your tongue, betrothed?" she asked, though the question wavered at the end, betraying her nerves.
Xuan swallowed hard, forcing his gaze back to her face. "No," he murmured, stepping closer. "Just... trying to memorize you."
Her breath hitched. That wasn’t a line. It wasn’t even a joke. It was raw, unfiltered truth, and it made her stomach flutter in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with desire.
His fingers brushed her cheek, calloused from sword practice, warm against her skin. She leaned into the touch without thinking, her eyes fluttering shut. When his lips found hers again, it wasn’t the desperate crush of before, this was slower, deeper, a silent promise between them.
His hands followed the curve of her waist, testing the weight of her breasts before gliding down to her hips. She gasped against his mouth, her fingers flexing against his chest as if unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.
Without breaking the kiss, Xuan guided her backward until the backs of her knees met the mattress. Qingyue sat down slowly, and he followed her onto the bed, easing her beneath him without taking his eyes from her face.
Xuan took his time, savoring the way her body responded—how her nipples hardened under his palms, how her hips arched when his thumb grazed her inner thigh.
"You’re shaking," he murmured against her lips.
Qingyue huffed, but it came out breathless. "You’re the one who’s supposed to be in charge."
He chuckled darkly, nipping at her bottom lip. "I am. That’s why I’m going slow." His fingers teased between her legs, finding her slick and already aching for him. She whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders.
"Xuan—"
"Shh." He kissed her again, swallowing her protests—or maybe her pleas—as his middle finger circled her clit. She was so fucking responsive, her hips rocking against his hand before she even realized she was doing it.
Her hands finally found confidence, tracing the dips and ridges of his chest, gripping his biceps when his fingers slid inside her. "Fuck—" The curse tore from her lips before she could stop it, her back arching off the bed.
Xuan groaned at the sound, his cock painfully hard against his trousers. "You like that?"
Qingyue bit her lip, nodding jerkily. "I—I don’t know. It feels..."
"Good?" he supplied, curling his fingers just right.
"Yes," she hissed, her thighs trembling.
He didn’t let up, watching her face as pleasure painted her features in flushed wonder. When her walls clenched around his fingers, her mouth falling open in a silent cry, he swallowed the sound with another kiss, drinking in her release as if it were his to claim.
But he wasn’t done.
By the time he stripped off his own clothes, her earlier shyness had melted into something hungrier. She reached for him without hesitation, her small hands wrapping around his shaft, testing its weight. Xuan groaned, his hips jerking into her grip.
"Fuck, Qingyue—"
She smirked, though it was shaky. "You talk too much."
He laughed breathlessly, but it turned into a groan when she stroked him experimentally. "Wicked," he muttered, capturing her wrist before she could go further. "If you keep that up, this’ll be over before it starts."
She pouted, but there was no real irritation in it. "Then move."
He didn’t need to be told twice.
Kneeling between her spread thighs, he lined himself up, watching her face as he pushed inside inch by inch. She was tight—so fucking tight—and the way her nails raked down his back told him she was feeling every stretch of it.
"You okay?" he gritted out, hovering over her.
Qingyue nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "Just... move."
He did. Slow at first, then faster as her body adjusted, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. The room filled with the slick sounds of skin meeting skin, her moans muffled against his shoulder as he took her deeper.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, until neither of them could think past the overwhelming heat between them. When her walls fluttered around him again, her back arching off the bed, he buried himself to the hilt and groaned her name like a prayer.
And when he finally came, spilling inside her with a shuddering breath, he collapsed against her, pressing kisses to her neck, her collarbone, her lips, anywhere he could reach.
Qingyue laughed weakly, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Well," she said, voice rough. "That was... less awkward than I feared."
Xuan grinned against her skin, nipping at her throat. "Wait until we do it again."
She rolled her eyes, but there was no heat in it. "Demanding bastard."
"Only for you."