Chapter 173 Husband 10
As soon as Zheng Song left the bathroom, Wen Hui pushed him to the bathroom door, and his back hit the wall with a loud noise.
He stood straight like a piece of wood. The wall his back touched was cold, but he was sweating profusely. The scarlet flesh that made up his back showed signs of disintegrating, trying to flow to his chest and get close to his wife.
Wen Hui held up the towel, and Zheng Song lowered his head and handed the wet towel to her.
After wiping her hair, Wen Hui couldn't find an excuse to continue and couldn't help but blame Zheng Song - why didn't he react at all?
According to common sense, her dress has made her meaning clear. Zheng Song is not an ignorant boy, he should understand what she means.
She was shy, and it took immense courage to wear such clothes and express her desires to him. While he showered, Wen Hui froze, and she felt regretful several times. But she finally made up her mind. She, too, had her needs, and this was the man she loved, her legal husband. Her nervous anticipation was met with Zheng Song's complete lack of reaction...
Wen Hui clutched the towel tightly, and her eye circles instantly turned a thin layer of red. The teardrop mole dotted under her eyes made her look even more aggrieved.
She turned around, about to go into the bathroom to put the towel down, when her wrist was grabbed. Zheng Song's palm was hot and damp, sticky with sweat. Wen Hui's heart skipped a beat. She looked up at him. His gaze was gentle, yet slightly bewildered.
He said, "Don't go, Huihui."
Zheng Song didn't understand why Wen Hui's expression suddenly changed. He instinctively didn't want her to leave. The pajamas she was wearing were very strange, very different from her usual pajamas. His eyes were uncontrollably glued to her.
His wife is very beautiful.
Zheng Song's dark eyes were filled with a faint red. He stared at his wife intently, kissed her slightly pouting lips, and said in a trembling voice, "Hui Hui, it's not clean yet."
He held Wen Hui's hand and placed the wet towel on his chest.
In fact, he didn't understand the meaning of this. He just felt a little itchy in his chest. The heart inside was the monster's real heart, wrapped in scarlet flesh and blood. It felt like being rubbed by a feather, causing a numbness in the back of his head. The chest touched by Wen Hui was especially stiff, so stiff that he could not feel its existence.
"Please Huihui, clean me up," Zheng Song said, "I washed too hastily and came out without having time to wipe myself clean."
Wen Hui blinked, her wrist was pinched by him, and he held her with one hand.
She felt that there was a subtle change in Zheng Song's appearance.
Before, he resembled a lazy cat, his facial features, whether outlined or separated, all exuding a gentle roundness, his overall aura soft and clean. Now, however, he possessed an indescribable aggression, his jawline sharper, like a dormant beast. The occasional flash of crimson in his eyes often gave Wen Hui an involuntary shiver, but it was undeniable that Wen Hui preferred this slightly aggressive Zheng Song.
Her wrist was tightly pinched and pressed against his chest. The hand covering her lower back had a burning palm, and the eyes of the man in front of her revealed a strong desire and passionate emotion.
Even a little confused.
Puzzled?
Wen Hui had no time to dwell on his current mood. She was nearly driven mad by the torture. She constantly held herself to Zheng Song's standards—Zheng Song was self-disciplined, with fixed meal times, fixed exercise times, and even fixed sex times, limited to two or three times a week, the recommended frequency as determined by health authorities. But Wen Hui had her needs, and Zheng Song's demands often made her feel self-loathing—was she truly such a frivolous, dissolute person?
She has endured it for a long time.
But he didn't take any action.
If Zheng Song's attitude had not changed recently, she would never have the courage to do such a thing, which could be considered "vulgar" in Zheng Song's eyes.
Not refusing means continuing, but——
Wen Hui couldn't understand.
How could he look at her with such an ignorant look? He held her hand and placed it on his chest, which was a very suggestive gesture, but the way he acted seemed to really want her to wipe his body... Who wants to wipe his body for him!
Wen Hui held the towel, unbuttoned his collar, and touched it randomly twice. The towel had been used to wipe his hair, and it instantly soaked his pajamas, leaving water marks on his chest.
Wen Hui raised her eyes.
Zheng Song was staring at her intently. Seeing her looking at him, he smiled gently, as if encouraging her to continue.
Wen Hui was a little annoyed - would it be like yesterday, where he would cover himself with the quilt and sleep in the middle of the process?
Wen Hui bit her lip, her eyes were hazy with tears, her heart was beating violently, she suddenly stood on tiptoe, and gently bit Zheng Song's Adam's apple. His Adam's apple fell down and surged up between her lips.
Wen Hui heard the sound of him swallowing.
She unfastened the shoulder straps. The dress had a special structure. She pulled it, and the buckles on the chest came undone. The black gauze slowly fell to the ground, was caught by the silent sticky substance, and quietly hid in the flesh.
Zheng Song's heart skipped a beat. He said, "Hui Hui, you..."
Wen Hui hugged him, buried in his arms, her voice a little muffled: "I know you're very busy at work and very tired at night, but we haven't been together for a long time..." Wen Hui took a breath. Having come this far, what else could she care about? Subconsciously, she pressed herself close to the man's chest. The temperature was unexpectedly hot, even beyond her body's limit. The moment she touched him, she felt like she was being roasted by a furnace.
"Zheng Song, let's sleep together tonight."
They slept together every night.
Zheng Song was puzzled.
But there must be some step he missed.
The images in Zheng Song's memory played out frame by frame. The images related to Wen Hui magnified and looped in his mind. He witnessed the entire process of Zheng Song and Wen Hui meeting, falling in love, and getting married. For some reason, a sudden tearing pain arose in his burning chest. He frowned slightly, but did not delve into it. He followed the images and thought about them, finally settling on the wedding night -
Wen Hui's cheeks were rosy, like ripe fruit, and exuded a mouth-watering sweetness. Zheng Song held her in his arms, and the two of them lay down on the bed. The red quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks fluttered, and the mandarin ducks seemed to come alive...
The monster felt a very strange emotion. He should continue to observe and explore Wen Hui's purpose, which was definitely not the same as his understanding of sleeping. However, he refused to continue observing those pictures. This inexplicable emotion made him feel depressed.
Wen Hui's shyness gradually turned into embarrassment in Zheng Song's silence. She pulled her arm away, putting distance between herself and Zheng Song. The next moment, the palm on her waist suddenly pressed forward, and Wen Hui crashed into his chest again.
Zheng Song lowered his head and kissed Wen Hui's lips.
Wen Hui opened her eyes, stunned by the pain clearly visible in Zheng Song's eyes. What was he suffering from? Could it be that he had a problem with that part of his body...
"Huihui," Zheng Song's palms were covered in a layer of sticky sweat. After being touched by him, her waist trembled slightly. His voice was filled with an indescribable lingering affection: "It's really been a long time since we last did this. Can you take the lead tonight?"
He winked playfully, "Okay, Huihui?"
Wen Hui stared intently, her chest vibrating like a drum.
The look Zheng Song accidentally revealed was like a colorful bird suddenly appearing in the gray sky, attracting her attention.
She couldn't help but shake her head.
Zheng Song smiled slightly: "Let's get started, Huihui."
Wen Hui was stunned: "Huh? Start what?"
Zheng Song blinked at her again, his face full of tenderness: "You know."
He was actually serious! Wen Hui thought nervously. She clutched the corner of Zheng Song's clothes tightly. The nightgown that only covered her body had been taken off by her. She pursed her lips, shrugged herself into Zheng Song's arms, and whispered, "...carry me to the bed."
Zheng Song replied: "Okay."
.
What did marriage bring her? She didn’t get the attention and respect she wanted in her original family, so she just threw it away. She fell in love with Zheng Song and willingly entered another cage.
She has to take care of all the chores at home, including the most basic cooking, sweeping, mopping, and washing clothes. These tasks together take up most of her time. Wen Hui also needs to take care of things at Zheng Song's parents' home sometimes. All these trivial tasks added up are not as valuable as Zheng Song's decent job and monthly salary.
Wen Hui has a kind nature. She can ignore the pickyness of Zheng Song's family and Zheng Song's arrogance. She doesn't ask for much - when the door is closed and the couple is alone, Zheng Song can say some soft words, be considerate and caring to her, and that's enough.
But to be honest, their relationship and affairs are not harmonious.
Starting, stopping, or what to start and when to stop, it was never Wen Hui who made the decision. She was too shy to ask Zheng Song, and she also had no right to refuse. Everything was controlled by Zheng Song.
Even if she was occasionally unwell, Zheng Song would satisfy her needs.
“Meihui, Meihui…”
Wen Hui's wandering thoughts were brought back.
Zheng Song gently licked away the physiological tears that seeped from the corners of Wen Hui's eyes. His tone was gentle, a gentleness that emanated from the inside out. This shallow emotion gently wrapped her like a spring breeze.
His cheeks flushed, and his eyes seemed to glow a crimson. He whispered softly, "Is that so? What do you think, Huihui? Are you satisfied with what I did? It can be changed..." Realizing he'd almost let something slip, he simulated the most appropriate position, leaning in close to her, carefully observing her expression. He slowly smiled sweetly, and as she fell asleep, he asked a question that even he couldn't understand.
"How is he better than him?"
.
Wen Hui entered the dream again.
This time, something seems different—
The solidity of the ground was different from before. When Wen Hui stepped on it at first, she felt the ground clearly. But now the ground was soft and sticky, and soon her ankles seeped into it. The sticky substance was wriggling around her ankles. She tensed her body and kept repeating, "This is a dream, this is a dream, this is a dream..." Barely suppressing her fear, the sticky substance did not swallow her up, but pushed her out.
She continued to sink in.
The slime continued to wriggle, covering her ankles and pushing her to the surface.
In the end, she was carried out by Zheng Song.
Wen Hui looked at Zheng Song in surprise. He avoided her gaze at first, his cheeks flushed red. He held her and crawled into the nest dug out of the stone, looking at her tenderly: "Hui Hui, what are you looking at?"
I dreamed of him again.
Even though she knew it was a dream, Wen Hui still couldn't help feeling shy. After all, they had just had an intimate conversation before going to bed.
Even in her dreams, the drained exhaustion and exhilaration still lingered in her body. She squatted in the stone cave, and Zheng Song held her in his arms.
After a moment of silence, Zheng Song suddenly spoke: "Huihui, I can also conjure flowers."
Wen Hui was puzzled: "Huh?"
Her questions were quickly answered.
The ground in front of him was spread out with scarlet sticky substance. The place closest to Wen Hui suddenly condensed into a cylindrical shape. The top exploded like an anemone, decomposing into several tiny wriggling tentacles.
It came to her and touched her fingers flatteringly. Wen Hui shrank into Zheng Song's arms, eyes wide open. Zheng Song whispered in her ear, "Don't be afraid, Huihui. You can try to touch it. Well, it will be very happy."
"Does it have emotions?" Wen Hui was full of doubts.
She stretched out her hand slightly, and the scattered tentacles rushed towards her palm, wrapped around her wrist, and hooked her fingers. Then, when Wen Hui was concentrating, they suddenly closed inward, like the huge mouth of a carnivorous plant, holding Wen Hui's fingers inside the fishy, sticky, and greasy anemone.
Wen Hui screamed in fright.
Zheng Song hugged her and laughed.
"Meihui, you're so timid. Look carefully. It doesn't mean to hurt you, it just wants to play with you. Do you like it like this? It can also change into many shapes. Whatever shape you want, Huihui... I can try it."
The monster let the cat out of the bag.
But in Wen Hui's cognition, this is a dream.
No matter how absurd the things that happen in dreams are, they have their rationality.
Wen Hui was so angry that she hit Zheng Song's chest. Her other hand was still held by the anemone. She moved slowly, and the tentacles wrapped around her loosened. Her palm was covered with sticky liquid, which felt a bit like blood, but without the fishy smell.
Wen Hui played with it for a while. It seemed to want to be close to her. When Wen Hui touched it, along with the ground and the sky, they squirmed and surged, as if they wanted to come to her side. But that was not allowed! Wen Hui felt that if they all rushed over at once, she would suffocate to death, so she quickly shrank into the stone cave and nestled in with Zheng Song.
What kind of strange dream is this?
Wen Hui raised her hand and covered her mouth. She thought it was because she dreamed about things during the day. Something that had just happened was reappearing in her dream. But the objects that reappeared were all the objects in the dream, whether it was the sky, the ground, or even the nest where Wen Hui hid.
It secreted the same scarlet sticky substance as the outside, wriggling and wrapping around her ankles, calves, knees... and there was also a stream coming from in front of Wen Hui, trying to get into her mouth.
Wen Hui's eyes turned red with anxiety: "Zheng Song, please help me!"
Zheng Song pinched the scarlet substance and replaced it with his lips and tongue.
The kiss in the dream felt real.
Wen Hui couldn't help but wonder in a trance, was this really a dream?
At this moment, Zheng Song grabbed her tongue and kissed her fiercely. An electric current suddenly climbed from her tailbone to the back of her head. Wen Hui's eyes were hazy, and she lay in a space made of scarlet flesh and blood. The gray stone surface collapsed, and the sticky scarlet substance covered Wen Hui's body.
Zheng Song sighed: "I really want to..."
Wen Hui asked, "Hmm? What did you say? I didn't hear clearly."
"Huihui, I'm saying..." Zheng Song tore off a ball of scarlet flesh and pushed it down Wen Hui's throat. The crimson substance automatically slid into her stomach. Wen Hui's eyes turned red and she coughed twice. Zheng Song held her hand, so she couldn't move. She looked at him in confusion, "What are you doing?! What the hell is this? You're stuffing it into my mouth."
Zheng Song said, "It's not some mess, it's me."
His eyebrows arched, and his red pupils revealed an indescribable obsession as he stared at Wen Hui. He softly answered Wen Hui's previous question: "I said... I really want to tear me into pieces and feed all of me to Hui Hui."
Wen Hui's entire body was covered in a sticky substance, tightly enveloping her. A continuous stream of electricity coursed through her, as if they were exploring her body! Was this really a dream? Why did the touch feel so real...
Zheng Song's words were so strange that they gave her a morbid sense of satisfaction.
She really likes Zheng Song like this.
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