C11

 

“Yes.”

 

Probably because of his experience in the office, Fang Lin looked much more natural, and even catered to expose the knot in his throat to Duan Changke: “Otherwise, why would you give me your room number?”

 

Duan Changke’s voice sounded unperturbed: “I asked you to come up and get the sobering soup.”

 

Obviously, he drank so much during the dinner, but the smell of alcohol on Fang Lin’s body was so light that he could barely smell it: “But I said I wasn’t drunk.”

 

His tone was a bit stubborn, just like when he wanted to define their relationship.

 

Duan Changke didn’t come any closer, and looked at him from the current distance with downcast eyes.

 

Fang Lin met his gaze unapologetically, his eyes were clear, reflecting Duan Changke’s excessively handsome face.

 

“I don’t know why Mr. Duan suddenly took a fancy to me, or why he gave me these things.” His tone was light, like he was recounting a perfectly ordinary thing, “Of course, there was no reciprocity in this relationship in the first place, but at least, this way I can have some peace of mind.”

 

“What if I don’t want to?” Duan Changke asked in a low voice.

 

 

Fang Lin’s tone held a little regret: “But I have no other leverage.”

 

Before Duan Changke could speak, Fang Lin looked up again, “Even I myself am not considered a bargaining chip …… but I am more or less confident that at least it won’t be too bad.”

 

“Fang Lin.” Duan Changke’s eyelashes were long but not curved, and certain looks took on other meanings when he narrowed his eyes.

 

“What if I just want to be a philanthropist, I’m just bored and want to raise a small star for fun, and don’t care if you want to repay the favor.”

 

 

“But there’s no such possibility.” Fang Lin smiled, “you chose me.”

 

“So,” Duan Changke’s fingers slid slightly upward, twisting Fang Lin’s earlobe, “you’re se-ducing me?”

 

The seemingly calm person’s earlobe however engorged with bl-ood at the first touch, flushed with a translucent, full pomegranate-like red color: “This kind of se-duction that turns red at the first touch?”

 

 

 

“The first time, may not be too skilled,” Fang Lin carelessly smiled, ” bear with me.”

 

 

 

This time, Duan Changke didn’t deny it.

 

 

Fang Lin said this, and boldly regarded his silence as acquiescence. Duan Changke noticed that Fang Lin had actually taken a bath and changed into new clothes. He had already lost the smell if alcohol he had gotten during the meal.

 

Fang Lin said this while finally breaking the ambiguous distance between them, closing his eyes and touching Duan Changke’s thin and cold lips with his.

 

 

He was very active, but not very skillful.

 

He rubbed the bead of his lips very lightly against Duan Changke’s upper lip, his earlobe so red that it looked like it was dripping bl-ood, and the tip of his nose trembled very lightly, brushing against Duan Changke’s cheek.

 

“Mmm…”

 

Fang Lin wanted to continue trying, but originally just passive, the silent man suddenly reached out and cupped his chin, thumb and index finger pressed hard on his jaw, Fang Lin took the pain and was forced to subconsciously open his mouth.

 

 

But without waiting for him to say any other extra words, all his sounds were sealed by his lips and tongue.

 

 

Duan Changke’s kiss was a very different kind of ruthlessness, the tip of his tongue was wet and brutal and went straight to Fang Lin’s depths, leaving him defenseless and trembling.

 

 

 

He never thought that kissing was like this.

 

 

 

Duan Changke kissed him while holding him and pressed him into the bed.

 

 

 

When Fang Lin’s eyes were all red, tears stained the snow-white pillow, then the man only slightly withdrew.

 

 

There was no mockery in Duan Changke’s tone, just a little light laughter: “You didn’t breathe while kissing, a casual kiss brings tears to your eyes, and you even forgot to open your mouth.”

 

 

 

 

Fang Lin, who was relaxed into the quilt, looked a bit ruffled, while Duan Changke was still well-dressed and elegant.

 

“Practice again.”

 

Fang Lin only slowed down for a few seconds, still gasping for breath, before he braced himself.

 

He stood up from the side of the bed, walked to the door of the room, and picked up the convenience store paper bag that had been neglected when he first entered the door.

 

 

 

He emptied the contents of the paper bag onto the bed as Duan Changke watched.

 

 

 

“I thought, such a hotel wouldn’t have such things,” Fang Lin spoke with red lips, “how do you want me to practice?”

 

 

 

Suddenly, he heard a very faint laugh.

 

 

Duan Changke stood up, he was very tall, half sunk in the shadows, the not so bright light in the room made him seem more oppressive.

 

 

 

 

“Fang Lin.” He called his name, his tone deep, “You are really ……”

 

 

 

When Duan Changke walked up to him, his smile faded. If his facial features hidden in the dark made him seem relaxed and cool.

 

 

 

But under the coolness of this summer night, there lurked a burgeoning desire, like a volcano that was covered in snow all day but didn’t erupt, dangerous and fascinating.

 

 

 

Fang Lin’s voice finally held a little bit of residual drunkenness.

 

 

 

 

He wore the simplest and cleanest clothes, with the purest smile, and said the most straightforward words without the slightest disguise.

 

 

“So, should we have s-ex, Mr. Duan?”

 

 

 

He smiled sweetly, like a self-sacrificing angel caught in the filth, his wings stained with compelling mud, but paradoxically looking more holy.

 

 

 

“The so-called deal is only good if the guest and the host are also happy.”

 

“Okay.”

 

 

 

The corners of Duan Changke’s mouth seemed to lift for a moment, but then again, it didn’t.

 

 

 

“-This is what you said.”

 

 

Duan Changke took off his watch first, the dignified prop was casually tossed aside, abandoned in the corner.

 

 

His movements were slow and methodical, his eyes obscure and clouded.

 

 

Then, he untied his tie with one hand, the material of the finest fabric fell on Fang Lin’s hand.

 

 

His hand passed through Fang Lin’s loosely gaping clothes, and then reached out to his collar.

 

 

When Duan Changke’s index finger traced his chin, Fang Lin had the illusion of being pointed at g-unpoint.

 

 

 

He was the one being hunted.

 

 

 

Duan Changke’s finger was the shotg-un that still had smoke and heat, whether it was in the office at that time or in the dark at this moment.

 

 

 

His fingers were se-xy, long and he had well-defined knuckles.

 

 

 

 

They were when he was smoking, and they still were.

 

 

Before the last porch light was turned off, he heard Duan Changke indifferently speak.

 

 

 

 

“Next time you buy it, remember to pick your size too.”

 

 

 

Fang Lin’s face was buried in the quilt, he finally let out an unbearable whimper.

 

 

 

 

Struggle and obedience, tenderness and roughness.

 

 

 

 

Warmth and trembling.

 

 

The fog in his eyes that grew, and the sweat that went down into the texture of the muscles.

 

 

 

 

Being explored and being pleasured.

 

 

 

Fang Lin once wanted to cry out because of the pain, and then whimpered because of the slowly accumulating, torturous and unreachable threshold.

 

 

 

 

It was probably raining, summer rain was always very capricious, sometimes it briefly poured, and sometimes it rained non-stop.

 

 

 

Fang Lin was pressed on the hotel’s floating window, there was no higher building than this room in the neighborhood, he looked down at the shooting location into a small square, and suddenly a sense of vertigo was born.

 

 

 

The muscles on his shoulder and back reflected on the glass window were against these distant and clearly extinguished squares. They were the lines that rose and fell in the half dark room due to actions. The skin of the person being held was very white, his shoulders were bright and clean, and the butterfly bones were like the wings of a moth. It seemed that his wings would break in the next second and be thrown into the long and endless burning night.

 

 

 

 

Fang Lin felt that he had no strength at all.

 

 

His calves began to tremble, but there was no end to his knees being worn red.

 

 

He was the one who invited, he was the one who initiated the conversation, and he was the one who ki-ssed him.

 

 

He didn’t regret it, but he just didn’t expect it to be on this level.

 

 

 

 

His phone was thrown somewhere, all around was black, and only the person in front of him was warm.

 

 

Duan Changke half lifted up Fang Lin’s shirt and moved not very gently to shove a corner of the shirt into his mouth, half forcing him to hold it.

 

 

There was a commanding carelessness in his tone.

 

 

 

“Hold it well.”

 


TN:

Well 😳

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One Reply to “C11”

  1. Me *Blushing blushing* too😶😶😶

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