Fatal Desire

Chapter 89 Holding Me

The crystal chandelier on the ceiling was dazzling, and the light shone into Song Xi's eyes from behind him. She lay back on the sofa, feeling slightly dizzy.

"I drank just a little bit."

Actually, it wasn't just a little; she drank at least three glasses. When she was in the United States, she was afraid that if she got drunk and became incoherent, she would contact him, so she never let herself get drunk and only dared to have a few sips.

Zhao Yansen lowered his head, his forehead touching hers, his voice hoarse: "Do you still remember who I am?"

“Brother.” Song Xi’s eyes were misty as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her rosy lips slightly parted.

Once he was sure she knew who the man pinning her down was, Zhao Yansen kissed her as she wished, their bodies entwined and caressing.

At the same time, he supported her back with one hand, lifted her upper body slightly, coaxed her to temporarily release his neck, and then took off her coat.

The sound of fabric rubbing together could be heard.

Today's summit and business banquet are both formal occasions. Song Xi was wearing a white silk shirt underneath. Zhao Yansen gently laid her flat on the sofa, leaned over, and placed a burning kiss on her neck, moving down to her collarbone, and used his teeth to unbutton her shirt.

His large hand, resting on her waist, touched her skin without any obstruction, moving upwards along her spine, gliding over her delicate shoulder blades, and then gently flicking with his fingertips.

With a soft 'click', the restraints loosened, and Song Xi instantly felt her breathing become smoother.

The man's warm, moist breath brushed against her chest, quickly flushing her delicate, fair skin a rosy hue. His long, strong fingers simultaneously ignited her fuse, skillfully and expertly, causing her shoulders to tremble slightly as a surge of heat coursed through her.

In no time, the girl's white shirt and the man's black robe were scattered on the carpet, the stark contrast between white and black adding to the enchanting atmosphere of the spring night.

She lay on the sofa, and Zhao Yansen's gaze traveled from her slender legs upwards, down to every inch of her face, and finally settled on her flushed cheeks.

The lights were bright, and they could see each other clearly. Song Xi's eyes reflected the man's beautiful and muscular body. Her heart pounded, and her mind was filled with unimaginable fantasies and desires.

Perhaps because of the alcohol, her senses were unusually sharp; the sound of the box being torn open rang in her ears like some powerful and fierce horn.

Zhao Yansen lowered his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing, his jawline clearly defined, as if he had made a safe preparation. He then leaned forward, his strong and muscular body approaching Song Xi.

He was very hot; just his touch made her tremble uncontrollably.

"Song Xi." Zhao Yansen called her by her full name, as if deliberately trying to make her more awake, and asked in a deep, hoarse voice, "Do you want me?"

"Hmm," Song Xi replied softly, gazing into his dark eyes.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yansen smiled and moved closer to her, pressing down harder. Song Xi gasped for breath, biting her lower lip to keep herself from making a sound.

"Speak up, Xixi." Zhao Yansen was mindful of her body, speaking slowly and deliberately, so that Song Xi could clearly sense her descent into ecstasy.

She slightly opened her mouth, and a soft moan immediately escaped her lips, especially clear and melodious in the quiet suite.

"Good girl." He nibbled at her lower lip, teasing her gently. "It sounds beautiful."

Song Xi's ears burned and her eyes moistened. In a short while, a thin layer of sweat appeared on her body, like clouds and mist, making her extremely beautiful.

A tingling, electric shock-like sensation washed over her, leaving her mind foggy. She belatedly realized what was happening and blurted out in a trembling voice, "I haven't showered yet." "I have." After a moment of teasing, Zhao Yansen's hand gripped her slender waist, and in that instant, all his desire surged into her heart. Song Xi's toes curled up: "Mmm, so..."

The two were pressed tightly together, and Zhao Yansen whispered seductively in her ear in a hoarse voice, "Hold me."

A powerful sensation coursed through her body. Song Xi wrapped her arms around his shoulders and back, embracing Zhao Yansen tightly, burying her face in the crook of his neck: "Brother, ah."

The fire within her burned brighter and brighter with the fuel in her heart, the notes striking her nerve endings, and the two of them felt a tingling sensation on their scalps.

Touching someone you yearn for always feels out of control, impossible to resist. He is a cold, imposing cliff, and she hangs there, her body trembling like a thin veil in the fierce wind.

As Zhao Yansen continued to approach passionately, at one moment, a tingling yet dangerous pleasure made Song Xi's blood boil, rushing wildly through her limbs and bones, as if something couldn't wait to merge with his blood.

Song Xi could hardly bear it. She hugged Zhao Yansen tightly, her fingernails scratching bloody marks on his back muscles. He pinched the back of her neck, lifted her face, and kissed her deeply.

"You're spineless." Zhao Yansen kissed her, his back tingling. His fingers traced Song Xi's sweaty temples as he gazed into her eyes. His voice was unusually low and husky, indistinct yet sexy, "I'm afraid I'll kill you."

He is awful.

Song Xi slumped on the sofa, breathing rapidly. Zhao Yansen embraced her and unexpectedly pulled her into his arms.

Song Xi grunted and tried to get up to create some distance, but Zhao Yansen pressed down on the back of her waist, forcefully pulling her back closer. He was fierce for a moment, until she got used to it.

Song Xi felt a lump in her throat, and sank weakly into his shoulder, her breath filled with his scent. His cool, pleasant fragrance mingled with alluring mature male hormones.

Over the past decade or so, he has become an indispensable part of shaping her soul.

He was like the world's greatest sculptor, etching indelible marks on every crucial stage of her development. So much so that contact with him brought satisfaction, while the passing of those marks was heart-wrenching.

The long-awaited intimacy was addictive. Zhao Yansen groaned, his arms tightening around her waist, and he heard her faintly utter three words.

Zhao Yansen kissed the side of her neck, his movements unhurried, and asked in a hoarse voice, "What did you call me?"

"Zhao Yansen..." Song Xi's cheeks flushed, her voice soft and gentle. Before she could finish speaking, he thrust deeply and suddenly, eliciting a soft cry from her.

It cannot stop.

Two lonely shadows meet in the light and shadow, sometimes fierce, sometimes gentle. When they are entangled, they are as hot as a furnace, wishing they could be melted into each other's bones and blood; when they are gentle, they are rich and tender, every skin must touch, every nerve must resonate.

She is a mermaid who came from the Blue Strait. After resting on land for a long time, she is in critical condition and urgently needs to return to the embrace of the ocean.

He is the mysterious and unpredictable deep sea, willing to calm the storm, allowing her to rest and frantically absorb everything that sustains her.

The old clock hanging on the wall swung its hour hand twice, its movement ambiguous. Song Xi leaned limply on Zhao Yansen's shoulder, her head spinning, yet her senses felt incredibly real and intense.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead as she murmured, "Brother, it's sour."

Zhao Yansen's forehead lightly touched hers, and he asked in a low, hoarse voice, "Where does it hurt?"

(End of this chapter)