Daytime Narrative
"It doesn't hurt. What you gave me... doesn't hurt at all."
These words unexpectedly penetrated the softest corner of Wen Lingyi's heart, the one she most wanted to escape from.
This made the lust in her eyes freeze for a moment, and then it was covered by something deeper and more complicated, and the fingers that were stroking the bruise were trembling slightly.
"Zhou Jianxing," her voice sank, and she regained an almost cruel clarity, "Pain is pain. It doesn't matter who caused it." This sentence was said to Zhou Jianxing, but it was more like a reminder to herself.
She loosened her hand and wanted to turn around, to distance herself from him, which was making him sink.
The moment she turned around, a pair of arms tightly wrapped around her waist from behind with almost desperate strength.
Zhou Jianxing's hot cheek pressed against her thin back, and his warm breath ironed her skin through the fabric.
There was a hint of sob in that affectionate voice, and he whispered in her ear: "It's okay... It doesn't matter even if it hurts... Really."
Wen Lingyi's body stiffened instantly. The warmth, heartbeat, and almost humble attachment coming from behind her made her heart tighten and she could hardly breathe.
Zhou Jianxing almost couldn't help but tilt his head slightly, and his soft lips, with cautious tentativeness, like a butterfly resting on petals, gently pressed against Wen Lingyi's sensitive earlobe.
The skin behind Wen Lingyi's ears is delicate, and the perfume she applied there leaves the most charming aftertaste, which is warm sandalwood mixed with a hint of cool cedar.
The gentle kiss sent a shudder through Wen Lingyi's body, as if she were being pierced by a tiny electric current. The instantaneous tingling sensation spread rapidly from her earlobes to her limbs, making her almost unable to stand.
The fingers covering Zhou Jianxing's clasped hands suddenly tightened, and the nails almost dug into the skin on the back of Zhou Jianxing's hands.
The only sound in the air was the intense heartbeats of the two people, like dense drumbeats beating in the silent space.
Wen Lingyi took a deep breath and turned around very slowly.
She raised her hand, her fingertips with burning warmth, gently stroking Zhou Jianxing's lips that were swollen from her kiss, sliding down her hot cheeks, and finally stopping at her slender and fragile neck.
The tip of the thumb seemed to be caressing the beating pulse unintentionally.
Her voice was very low, like the whispers of a lover, and every word was wrapped in hot breath, falling on Zhou Jianxing's lips.
"Not at night..." She paused slightly, and increased the strength of her fingertips, feeling the trembling of the skin under her palms. "Then... during the day, is it okay?"
These words were like a key, easily unlocking the gates of taboo. Zhou Jianxing's pupils suddenly contracted, and her breathing became completely disordered. She understood the undisguised, naked desire and invitation in Wen Lingyi's eyes.
But this was daytime. A huge sense of shame and an equally surging desire tore at her body.
She looked at Wen Lingyi's beautiful, aggressive face so close to her, and the fire burning in her eyes. In the end, all her rationality and reserve turned to ashes in the fire.
Zhou Jianxing closed his eyes, and his thick eyelashes trembled violently like the wings of a frightened butterfly.
Then, she nodded very slightly but very clearly.
Wen Lingyi's fingertips slid down from her neck and clasped her wrist tightly. Without saying another word, she pulled Zhou Jianxing and turned to walk towards the stairs leading to the bedroom.
The footsteps echoed in the empty villa, and every step stepped on the two people's heartstrings that were tense to the extreme.
The sunlight filtered through the huge French windows, casting long, slanted shadows on the floor.
In broad daylight, an unspoken downfall is brewing.
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The air was still filled with the lingering scent of tannins, the dust of sunlight, and that thick, silent desire, which had formed an invisible net that bound them tightly and dragged them into a deeper vortex.
The stairs leading to the bedroom seemed to become infinitely long.
Wen Lingyi walked slowly in front, and Zhou Jianxing followed behind with her holding the wrist tightly.
Every step is like stepping on a taut string, emitting a silent, heart-stirring hum.
Sunlight poured in from the large window at the corner of the stairs, cutting out light and dark spots on their bodies. The dust floating in the air was like fine gold powder, dancing wildly in the beam of light.
The bedroom door was pushed open and then gently closed, blocking out all sounds from the outside world.
The room was filled with Wen Lingyi's usual cool and expensive fragrance, mixed with the lingering intoxication of the two and the slowly rising, thick and insoluble desire, eventually forming a dizzying and private atmosphere.
Wen Lingyi released her hand. She didn't turn around immediately, but stood in front of the huge French window with her back to Zhou Jianxing. The sunlight outlined Wen Lingyi's slender yet straight back, the lines of her shoulders and neck flowing yet fragile, her snow-white body gleaming in the light.
Outside the window is a garden that has just been carefully tended, full of greenery and vitality, forming a strange contrast with the stagnant and explosive air in the room.
Zhou Jianxing stood there, her heartbeat accelerating, almost wanting to break free. The loose home clothes felt like an invisible restraint, making her feel uncomfortable and hot.
She looked at Wen Lingyi's back and wanted to get closer, but her feet seemed to have taken root.
Wen Lingyi pulled the gauze curtain and turned around. She avoided Zhou Jianxing's eyes and lowered her gaze to the toes that were slightly curled up due to nervousness.
Her gaze slowly, as if with a tangible touch, moved upwards along Zhou Jianxing's straight calves wrapped in cotton and linen trousers, passing by the faint outline of his knees under the loose trouser legs, and finally stopped at the side of his waist where bruises were caused by the collision.
Wen Lingyi finally raised her eyes.
She took a step towards Zhou Jianxing.
It was just one step, but Zhou Jianxing felt as if the air around him was sucked away in an instant, and his breathing seemed to stagnate.
Wen Lingyi stretched out her hand, and her fingertips gently rested on the edge of the collar of her home clothes. With the edges of her smoothly trimmed nails, she slid down an inch along the edge of the soft fabric very slowly.
The movement was as light as a feather, but it clearly outlined the slightly concave shadow below Zhou Jianxing's collarbone.
Zhou Jianxing's body trembled slightly, and she subconsciously wanted to step back, but Wen Lingyi's other hand, which had been raised at some point, gently pressed on the edge of the bruise on her lower back, pressing lightly with a hint of restraint.
That slight pain was like a lit fuse, instantly igniting all the suppressed desires in the body.
"Don't move." Wen Lingyi's voice was very low, mixed with a strange hoarseness, like sandpaper rubbing against silk.
Her eyes finally locked onto Zhou Jianxing's.
Those eyes that were always filled with fascination and anxiety were now misty, hazy and moist, reflecting her own figure clearly, with complete, sacrificial trust and a hint of imperceptible fear.
Avoiding eye contact, Wen Lingyi's fingertips finally crossed the edge of the fabric. With a slight tremor, her slightly cool fingertips gently touched the warm and delicate skin below Zhou Jianxing's collarbone.
Zhou Jianxing let out a very light, whimpering sound, and his body involuntarily tensed up, like a bowstring stretched to its limit.
Wen Lingyi's fingertips did not stop. Like a patient explorer, they explored downwards very slowly along the smooth, slightly undulating texture.
Wherever he passed, Zhou Jianxing's skin began to tremble subtly and uncontrollably.
The wide bat-sleeved T-shirt became an imaginary barrier. His fingers moved secretly under the fabric, tracing the shape of the shoulder blades and feeling the strength hidden under the thin muscles.
Every movement is carried out with a breathtaking slowness, stretching time infinitely and magnifying every subtle touch infinitely.
The air was scorching hot, as if it would burst into flames at any moment. Sunlight filtered through the thin gauze curtains, casting flickering shadows on the floor and enveloping the two of them in a hazy golden glow.
In the silence, only the heavy and rapid breathing of each other intertwined together, like the most primitive rhythm.
Fine beads of sweat formed on Wen Lingyi's forehead, and her heart was beating uncontrollably. Her eyes grew deeper and deeper, like two bottomless pools, churning with a storm that had been suppressed for too long.
Her fingertips finally reached the edge of the bruise. Through the thin fabric, she could clearly feel the abnormal temperature of the skin there.
The tip of his thumb gently rubbed circles around the edge of the bruise.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, her voice so low it almost broke.
Zhou Jianxing looked at her, shook his head, and his eyes began to redden again.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Wen Lingyi's gaze fell on Zhou Jianxing's watery eyes. She leaned forward slightly and gently rested her forehead against Zhou Jianxing's.
The tips of their noses almost touched, and their hot breaths blended together without any hindrance, like two entangled warm currents.
Her other hand finally found its way under the loose hem of her home clothes. Her palm, scorching hot, pressed against Zhou Jianxing's flat, tight belly without any obstruction.
The scorching touch made Zhou Jianxing instantly arch his back and let out a short gasp, like a fish out of water.
Wen Lingyi's hand did not move, but just remained there steadily, feeling the delicate texture of the skin under her palm and the breathing rhythm that rose and fell slightly due to tension, as well as the deeper and more turbulent pulse of life.
Time completely lost its meaning at this moment.
The sunlight still moved silently, and the light and shadow changed quietly on the wall.
The only sounds in the room were the subtle friction of fabric, suppressed breathing, and the sound of two heartbeats beating wildly in the chest, almost resonating at the same frequency.
All words seemed pale and redundant, and all rationality crumbled inch by inch in the silent touch and gaze.
The palm of the hand pressed against her lower abdomen, with slow and firm force, finally began to move upwards along the slender and flexible waistline...
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