Fatal Desire

Chapter 61 Kissing?

Almost without hesitation, Zhao Yansen gave a low scoff, slightly lifting his eyelids, his intensely aggressive gaze meeting hers, his voice cold and sharp:

How do you know you can't?

Song Xi's heart suddenly started pounding, as if tiny drumbeats were constantly and heavily striking her heart.

In that instant, a surge of intense excitement rushed to her nerve endings, making her scalp tingle and her breath catch in her throat.

The man's breath was close at hand, and the cool sandalwood scent permeated every pore, like an unbreakable net enveloping Song Xi, seeping into every part of her body.

Zhao Yansen lowered his eyes and stared at her for a moment, then asked in a low voice, "Shall we kiss?"

His voice was deep and slightly husky, gently caressing her heart with extreme patience.

Song Xi was stunned for a moment, watching as the man leaned closer and his large, strong hand cupped her cheek.

He still carried that familiar scent, a pure coolness and an elegant, refined woody fragrance that made one unconsciously slow down their breathing.

Zhao Yansen pressed his thin lips against hers, not in a hurry to go deeper, but just gently kissed her with a subtle tenderness.

The last breaths in Song Xi's nostrils were taken away, and her mind went blank for a moment.

Seeing that she did not refuse, after a moment, Zhao Yansen slowly pried open Song Xi's teeth, pressed in, and gently entwined his tongue with hers.

It's like tasting plum wine, with a sweet and sour flavor that dances on the tongue, carrying the fresh scent of early summer.

Song Xi couldn't help but let out a low moan, unconsciously acting coquettish. Zhao Yansen's breath hitched, and he intensified his kiss, wetting her lips.

He stretched out his arm, wrapped it around Song Xi's slender waist, picked her up, and strode to the bed.

He kissed her while pressing her into the blanket.

Song Xi lay on the soft, spacious bed, and Zhao Yansen's hot, heavy body pressed down on her, causing her to tremble slightly.

Their cheeks pressed intimately together during the kiss; her body temperature was low, and she felt cold all over, while he had enough warmth to keep her cozy.

The damp fragrance grew stronger, domineeringly assaulting her senses. Song Xi felt dizzy, but her fingers never touched Zhao Yansen; she only gripped the blanket tightly beneath her.

The hotel's luxurious suite was quiet and undisturbed, with only the two of them inside.

She wore a thin nightgown, while he wore an expensive suit. She was beneath him, his tall, imposing body blocking out the light, casting a deep shadow over her.

She was in the darkness, like a creature that couldn't bear the light, with dark desires circulating in her blood, surviving on the nutrient solution he provided.

Song Xi was breathless from the kisses, and after she was satisfied, she started to dodge.

She turned her face away, but Zhao Yansen grabbed her chin and forcefully turned her back, and the two looked at each other.

Song Xi's eyes were unfocused, her breathing unsteady, and she asked haltingly, "Why...why can you..."

The girl's pretty face flushed, her gentle demeanor carrying a hint of childishness and allure. Zhao Yansen's Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he lowered his head again.

"Since I raised you, I naturally have to give you whatever you want."

The tone of his voice when he said this was exactly the same as when he said, "A brother is born to dote on his sister."

Being kissed by Zhao Yansen, the lightheaded feeling numbed Song Xi's mind, and her breathing became rapid, almost suffocating her.

Zhao Yansen evacuated before Song Xi suffocated.

He opened his eyes, suppressing the desire that surfaced in them, and gently kissed her lips: "I'm going to take a shower first. Wait for me here obediently."

The man's low, slightly husky voice tugged at Song Xi's heartstrings. She lay on the bed, gazing dazedly at the ceiling.

The room lights weren't all on, and the light wasn't too glaring, but Song Xi still felt a stinging pain in her eyes, a sensation similar to soreness.

She propped herself up, sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest, and slowly raised her eyelashes to look towards the bathroom.

The room was completely silent; not even the sound of water running in the bathroom could be heard. Yet, Song Xi could feel her own breathing, which seemed to tremble slightly. The quiet and bright room made her feel even more desolate and empty.

My mind is a mess.

Song Xi rubbed her chin against the fabric of her nightgown as she sat on the bed, calming herself down. The skin that had been touched by the man felt a strong burning sensation.

Zhao Yansen's feelings for her were very pure, but she was mentally ill and always wanted to possess him.

As the little princess was being raised, she somehow went astray and turned into a little madwoman.

This was the first time she had ever liked someone, and she projected all her romantic feelings onto that one person, so obsessively and so wildly.

During the four years that Song Xi was away from Zhao Yansen, she never let go of her feelings for him. When they met again, she was filled with worry and resentment.

She longed for him and wanted to be close to him, yet she also resisted him and distanced herself from him.

The scene before her eyes blurred, and Song Xi blinked, her face gradually becoming wet.

She will never again act as she did before, proactively loading ammunition and asking for it.

If he didn't offer it to her willingly, then she wouldn't accept it.

The sound of running water in the bathroom stopped. Zhao Yansen put on the hotel bathrobe. He had just finished showering, and his bangs were still damp with moisture. His body smelled of shower gel.

He came out, but Song Xi was no longer in the room.

She was like a pigeon that roosted here, fluffy and soft, with a sweet scent, and after a brief stay, she would leave him behind and fly away lightly.

Zhao Yansen leaned back on the single sofa, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He lit his STDupont lighter with a 'click', igniting the cigarette in the quiet night.

He looked weary, and slowly exhaled a thin mist of smoke. His bathrobe collar was loose and open, revealing his muscular chest.

As the hazy smoke rose, diffused, and dissipated, a barely perceptible sense of decadence and loneliness quietly spread across him.

A profound sense of loneliness almost overwhelmed him.

Zhao Yansen picked up his phone, his long, slender fingers moving as he dialed a number.

He spoke, his voice hoarse from the smoke: "Where are they?"

"Miss is on her way home and is expected to arrive at the courtyard house in fifteen minutes."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yansen's tone remained completely calm: "Keep an eye on her."

When I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the table, I noticed a Patek Philippe mechanical watch on it.

There was also a small note under the watch.

Zhao Yansen picked it up, and there was Song Xi's handwriting clearly written on it:
Brother, here you go.

Four simple Chinese characters, without any redundancy.

Zhao Yansen smoked his cigarette listlessly, glancing at the words on the note for a long time, still remembering that she had once said those words to him in person.

That was a week before Song Xi left the country.

"Brother, don't touch me. I'll give you back everything you wanted, all of it..."

Large tears welled up in the girl's eyes, soaking her beautiful face. Her body trembled from crying as she tried her best to speak calmly:

"Please don't come to see me anymore, okay? As long as Sister Yue is alright... I'm much better off without you these past few days."

Upon recalling this, Zhao Yansen frowned.

He wanted her to be happy, but... she seemed a little too happy and carefree without him.

(End of this chapter)