Chapter 70: Stay With Me
The unfamiliar stretch made Zhiyi’s breath catch.
He became still.
His face remained close enough for her to see every change in his expression. Desire had darkened his eyes, but it didn’t override his attention. He waited until the tightness inside her eased, then moved his finger slowly.
The sensation wasn’t painful. It was strange, carrying pressure into a place she had no experience interpreting. Hanchuan gave her body time to adjust before adding a second finger.
That hurt.
Zhiyi’s nails pressed into his back.
Hanchuan stopped with his fingers inside her. He kissed her mouth, then her cheek and forehead while the discomfort faded around the steady pressure.
He didn’t apologize for something her body required and didn’t ask her to explain whether she wanted him to continue.
He watched.
Zhiyi deliberately relaxed her thighs.
Hanchuan resumed.
His fingers stretched her gently, and the strange pressure changed each time his thumb returned to the place that had made her climax. Discomfort remained, but pleasure began moving through it until the two sensations could no longer be separated completely.
Zhiyi’s hips lifted toward his hand.
Hanchuan’s mouth curved against hers.
He withdrew his fingers before the pressure could break again.
Zhiyi looked at him.
"Not yet," he murmured.
He reached toward the bedside drawer and removed a small foil packet. Zhiyi recognized it immediately.
Pregnancy during the approaching disasters would introduce medical, nutritional and structural requirements none of their current plans addressed. Hanchuan had apparently reached the same conclusion before bringing her upstairs.
He opened the condom and put it on without interrupting the moment with an explanation she didn’t require.
Then he returned between her thighs.
The difference between his fingers and his body was substantial enough that Zhiyi’s attention narrowed completely.
Hanchuan rested one hand beside her head and used the other to guide himself. He pressed against her entrance but didn’t enter.
"Look at me."
Zhiyi lifted her gaze.
He moved forward slowly.
The first stretch was uncomfortable. The next became pain.
Zhiyi’s fingers closed around his arms, but Hanchuan didn’t retreat or force himself deeper. He stopped exactly where he was and held her beneath him, allowing her body to adjust without creating more friction.
His forehead rested against hers.
"Breathe."
Zhiyi hadn’t realized she’d stopped.
She inhaled.
Hanchuan kissed her once, then again, maintaining the same steady pressure until the resistance inside her began to ease.
When he moved again, the pain sharpened briefly before giving way.
Zhiyi felt the moment he entered her completely.
Every part of him became still.
Their bodies were joined in a way they had never been during seven years of sleeping beside each other, surviving together and pretending that partnership described everything they were.
Hanchuan studied her face.
Zhiyi understood what he was waiting to see.
She loosened her grip on his arms and moved one hand to the back of his neck.
"I’m here."
Something fierce and tender passed through his expression.
"I know."
Hanchuan kissed her before drawing back slowly.
The movement created a different kind of pressure. Zhiyi’s body tightened around him, uncertain how to accommodate the loss and return when he pressed forward again.
He established the rhythm without expecting her to find it.
Each movement remained controlled, shallow at first, giving her body time to learn the sensation. His hand moved between them, touching her with the same precision he had used before.
The remaining discomfort began to recede.
Pleasure took its place gradually rather than all at once. It gathered each time his hips met hers and sharpened whenever his fingers moved in the pattern her body already recognized.
Zhiyi stopped monitoring whether she was responding correctly.
Her legs tightened around Hanchuan. Her hands moved over his shoulders and into his hair. When he changed the angle, a stronger sensation traveled through her, and she made the sound he had drawn from her earlier.
Hanchuan repeated the movement.
His control remained intact, but Zhiyi could feel what it cost him now. The muscles in his arms had tightened, and his breathing had lost its earlier steadiness. He wanted to move faster.
He didn’t.
Everything remained centered on the pace her body could accept.
The pressure began building again.
Zhiyi recognized it this time. She also recognized that Hanchuan was deliberately taking her there, holding himself back while his fingers and body worked together.
Her attention began to scatter as the intensity increased.
Hanchuan caught her jaw gently and turned her face toward his.
"Stay with me."
Zhiyi focused on him.
His eyes. His breath. The weight protecting rather than trapping her. The hand controlling every movement so she didn’t need to predict what came next.
The pressure broke harder than before.
Zhiyi cried out his name.
Her body tightened around him, and Hanchuan finally lost the perfect rhythm he had maintained. He pushed deeper, his face lowering against her neck as his own release moved through him.
Even then, he didn’t collapse onto her.
He held his weight above her until the trembling passed and her legs loosened from around him.
Hanchuan withdrew carefully.
The movement left a dull ache behind, but Zhiyi noticed the emptiness more than the discomfort.
He disposed of the condom before returning with a warm cloth and a glass of water. Zhiyi began to sit, but Hanchuan placed one hand against her shoulder and guided her back onto the pillows.
"Stay."
She remained where he put her.
Hanchuan cleaned her slowly, his touch practical without becoming impersonal. When Zhiyi’s muscles tightened around a tender area, he adjusted the pressure without asking her to produce an explanation.
He examined the faint trace of blood on the cloth, then set it aside.
"There will be some soreness tomorrow."
"I’m sore now."
"I know."
He brought the glass to her lips and waited until she drank half before placing it within reach.
Zhiyi watched him move around the room. He cleared the remaining flowers from the bed, turned back the blankets and retrieved a soft shirt from the closet.
He didn’t give it to her.
Hanchuan sat beside her and guided the shirt over her head himself. He moved her arms through the sleeves carefully, although the bruises no longer required the same protection.
The fabric smelled like him.
Zhiyi looked down and realized it was his shirt rather than one purchased for her.
Hanchuan returned to bed and pulled her against his chest.
Her body fit into the same position it had occupied in the shelter where they died. Her cheek rested over his heart, one of his arms wrapped around her waist and his hand settled against the back of her head.
Everything was different.
His legs moved beneath the blanket. The room was cool. Water waited beside the bed, and enough supplies to sustain them for years were already being delivered into warehouses across the city.
His heart beat steadily beneath her ear.
Marriage hadn’t changed the rhythm.
Sex hadn’t changed the way he held her.
Zhiyi placed her left hand against his chest. The rings caught the dim light from the bedside lamp.
"You still feel the same," she said.
Hanchuan’s fingers moved through her hair. "So do you."
"That seems statistically unlikely."
He kissed her forehead.
The first time he had kissed her there, the ventilation had failed and both of them knew they were dying.
The second time, he promised it wouldn’t be the last.
Tonight, the kiss asked nothing from her and ended nothing between them.
Zhiyi closed her eyes.
Hanchuan held her until she fell asleep.