Valentine's Day
After finishing her work, Lin Qingyue pushed open the door of the study. She expected the living room to be brightly lit, but now it was bathed in an unusually soft light.
The main lights were off, lit only by a few carefully angled wall sconces, casting a warm, limited glow on the expensive carpet. In the air, the cool, cedar-scented fragrance she always used seemed to blend subtly with another sweet, white peach-like scent.
She paused almost imperceptibly and swept her cold eyes across the living room.
Shen Yu stood in the middle of the carpet, gently enveloped by the light, facing her sideways, seemingly gazing out the window at the deepening night. He had clearly just showered, his jet-black hair still damp and soft, falling down in front of his forehead. He was wearing a silky, smoky-gray shirt—hers.
The oversized style accentuated his slender figure, the hem covering his shorts, leaving only two straight, white legs visible. The sleeves were carefully rolled up to the elbows, revealing a slender forearm.
Hearing her footsteps, he slowly turned around.
Lin Qingyue's gaze fell on him, her brown eyes seemed even deeper and more unfathomable in the low light, like quiet amber.
The boy had clearly prepared meticulously. The warm light softened the sharp contours of his face, only to highlight his astonishing refinement. A faint blush tinged his cheeks, perhaps from the steam or perhaps from his emotions. Those black eyes, as clear as obsidian dipped in mercury, looked up at her. But now, they strained to ripple with a shy yet bold expression. The natural, slightly raised curve at the corners of his eyes inadvertently revealed a touch of raw allure.
Around his slender neck, he wore a black velvet choker with a small metal buckle in the center, understated yet exquisite. On the small coffee table next to him, a bottle of champagne sat on ice, next to two slender flutes and a plate of bright red strawberries.
"Sister," he said, his voice soft and deliberately lowered, with a subtle tremor hidden in his voice. "Happy Valentine's Day."
Lin Qingyue paused a few steps away, silent. Her gaze swept calmly over the ends of his damp hair, gliding across the shirt he wore, which unexpectedly accentuated her own unique style, and finally rested on the black ornament on his fair neck.
You are seducing me again, Xiaoyu.
She didn't move, but just tilted her head slightly, and her brown pupils reflected a cold and sharp luster under the light.
"What is this arrangement?" She finally spoke, her voice as steady and cold as ever, without a trace of emotion.
Under her calm gaze, Shen Yu's ears quietly turned a deeper red. His fingertips curled slightly, trying to maintain his composure: "Yes... I want to spend Valentine's Day with my sister." He paused, his voice lighter, "I... prepared champagne and strawberries."
Lin Qingyue's gaze flicked across the small coffee table, returning to his face. She stepped closer, close enough to inhale the refreshing scent of his shower gel and the cool, cold scent of her own that lingered on her shirt. The two scents intertwined, creating a strange chemical reaction.
She didn't touch him, her eyes fixed on the black choker around his neck. She said calmly, "What about this? Is it also part of the ritual?"
Shen Yu's Adam's apple rolled subconsciously, and he nodded gently, his voice almost in his throat: "Well... do you like it?"
Lin Qingyue was silent for a moment. Just when Shen Yu was almost suffocated by the silence, she suddenly raised the corner of her mouth very lightly. The arc was almost non-existent, but it instantly broke the cold balance on her face.
"Not bad." She commented lightly, and it was hard to tell whether it was praise or something else.
The next second, she raised her hand, her cold fingertips not to undo the metal buckle, but to gently place it on Choker's skin, feeling the rapid beating of his pulse. Her movements carried a condescending scrutiny, as if she were inspecting a piece of art that belonged to her.
Shen Yu trembled slightly, her breathing suddenly tightened, and her black eyes were full of water.
"So," Lin Qingyue leaned closer to him, her warm breath brushing against his sensitive earlobe. Her voice was very low, with a cold magnetism, "My little canary, are you planning to sing again tonight?"
Her words still carried the distance of a controller, but her slow tone and close breath wove into an invisible and dense web.
Shen Yu's cheeks were burning, her heart was beating like a drum, and she could hardly think. She could only rely on instinct, looking at her with her wet black eyes, and nodded slightly.
This submissive and eager posture completely pleased Lin Qingyue.
She said no more. Her fingers clasped around his neck applied gentle pressure, not roughly, but with an undeniable sense of guidance, pulling him towards her. Her other hand firmly wrapped around his waist, leading him away from the warm glow and towards the master bedroom.
The champagne and strawberries were forgotten in the living room.
…
The light in the master bedroom is dimmer than that in the living room, with only a minimalist wall lamp at the head of the bed emitting a hazy glow.
Lin Qingyue released her grip around his waist and pushed him down onto the bed. Her brown eyes, like a bottomless pool in the dim light, calmly reflected his already aroused state—his cheeks flushed, his black pupils shimmering with water, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, his breathing unsteady.
…
Lin Qingyue seemed to laugh softly, the laughter was very light, but it hit Shen Yu's already confused heartstrings hard.
"Just that?" She stepped back slightly, her sticky fingertips sliding slowly upwards, brushing across his rapidly heaving chest. Through the thin silk fabric, she could clearly feel his pounding heartbeat underneath.
There was a hint of playful inquiry in her tone, as if she were teasing a butterfly beneath her palm and admiring the flutter of its wings.
Shen Yu was so ashamed that he looked at her with moist eyes, then quickly lowered them, his long eyelashes trembling violently. He shook his head, but could not say more. He just subconsciously pressed himself closer to her, expressing his silent desire with his actions.
This subconscious, dependent action pleased her.
Lin Qingyue said no more. Her patience seemed to have been exhausted by the foreplay, and she now displayed a more direct possessiveness. Her cool fingertips deftly undid the few remaining buttons on the shirt, and it slipped off, carelessly falling to the carpet.
The black choker was still around his neck, making his skin look even whiter and more dazzling, like some kind of exclusive mark.
The soft light from the wall lamps fell, outlining the graceful lines of his young body vividly, with a kind of incomparably seductive beauty between youth and maturity. He shuddered slightly, not because of the cold, but because of the intense embarrassment he felt under her undisguised, scrutinizing gaze.
…
Deep within Lin Qingyue's tea-colored eyes, the last shred of cold rationality finally melted under this gesture of utter dependence and sacrifice, igniting a deep flame. She lowered her head and kissed away the natural tears that oozed from the corners of his eyes, a gesture rarely characterized by a touch of tenderness. Her subsequent demands grew more intense, leaving no room for retreat.
In the dim light, figures intertwined, their breaths mingling, the temperature rising to a scorching peak. The carefully prepared champagne and strawberries had long been forgotten. All that existed now was the most primal attraction and the most direct possession.
He was the rose she nurtured with her own hands, and in the end, he could only bloom all his fragrance for her in her territory.
When the last wave swept past, everything returned to a calm silence, leaving only the sound of each other's rapid breathing. Shen Yu curled up weakly, her eyelashes wet, and her whole body was covered with a moving pink.
Lin Qingyue's arms were still around him, her fingertips lazily stroking his sweat-soaked back. She lowered her eyes to look at the boy in her arms, who was almost about to fall asleep. She looked at the black choker around his neck, which shone faintly in the dim light. A hint of tenderness flashed across her brown eyes.
She pulled the soft silk quilt over them both and placed a light kiss on his smooth forehead.
"Go to sleep." Her voice was hoarse afterward, but still had a reassuring power.
Outside, Valentine's Day was still bustling and dazzling. Inside, there was only a quiet and harmonious atmosphere. What she possessed was far more precious than any scenery outside.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
