Chapter 18 - Parallel Lines

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

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What now? Decide it over rock-paper-scissors? Tengshe's hand still gripped Shuai Zhaomin's ankle tightly, radiating heat that seeped through to his skin. Despite the distance, Tengshe's labored breaths scalded Shuai's knees, leaving no room for escape.

 

This wasn't the time for jokes, nor for calmly inquiring why Sara had chosen such a bizarre drug. Behind his glasses, Shuai Zhaomin's sharp gaze was fixed on Tengshe, wary of any sudden moves. The cigarette dangling from Tengshe's lips trembled as if even his jaw had lost its steadiness.

 

In his thirty-five years, Shuai Zhaomin had certainly not led an entirely innocent life. He'd had lovers, shared moments of passion, both as the top and the bottom. At least, those encounters were consensual, mutual explorations of pleasure. But this? This felt more like a battle for dominance, a clash of egos.

 

If Tengshe thought he could overpower him, Shuai Zhaomin was fully prepared to retaliate—with a well-aimed kick to ensure the man couldn't use his lower half again. But if he were the one taking control… "Hey! Don't slump onto my leg!"

 

Tengshe's head pressed heavily against Shuai Zhaomin's knee. Through the cotton fabric of his pants, he felt his labored breathing, scalding and oppressive, betraying his struggle to maintain his composure.

 

Composure? Shuai Zhaomin snorted at the thought. The same man who'd casually staged a live sex show at their first meeting—what was there to hold back for? With a sigh, Shuai Zhaomin pushed at Tengshe's tense but unsteady shoulder. Tengshe flinched but didn't budge, his head swaying slightly before drooping further.

 

That unstyled, short black hair was unexpectedly soft, free of gel or any other product. It swayed gently, almost asking to be ruffled.

 

So Shuai Zhaomin touched it.

 

Running his fingers through the thick, slightly unruly strands, he felt an itch of amusement. It had the texture of a long-haired dog's fur—oddly endearing. "Mr. Brelini, are you hoping I'll push you over?"

 

The sensation was addictive. Shuai Zhaomin rubbed the silky locks a few more times, his fingers tangling briefly with his curls. Though Tengshe let out two grumbles of mild annoyance, he didn't resist. His head shifted slightly against Shuai Zhaomin's knee before slowly sliding down.

 

The cigarette slipped from Tengshe's lips, clattering to the floor. Shuai Zhaomin deftly picked it up and extinguished it on the marble table leg with a casual flick.

 

"Attorney Shuai," Tengshe murmured, his voice dipping to a dangerous purr. "It's a rare opportunity—care to give it a try?"

 

The proximity of Tengshe's face to Shuai Zhaomin's thigh was precariously intimate. A heat flared in Shuai Zhaomin's abdomen, his muscles instinctively tensing. Damn it. What kind of man wouldn't react to a line like that?

 

Shuai Zhaomin's breath hitched involuntarily, his mind betraying him with vivid flashes of Tengshe's chiseled physique. The gap between them now? Barely two or three centimeters. A vast chasm and yet... so little.

 

One hand gripping Tengshe's short, curly hair, the other pressing down on his shoulder, Shuai Zhaomin coughed awkwardly. His gaze fell on Teng She's muscular back, visible beneath the lightly rumpled fabric of his shirt. The thin material traced the elegant contours of his body, faintly revealing the honey-gold skin underneath in the lamplight.

 

Why did I feel like the one who was drugged? Shuai Zhaomin scoffed inwardly. Was it because he hadn't had any action for the past year? His relationship with his right hand had grown so tiresome...

 

"Mr. Brelini…" His voice softened almost unconsciously as his head dipped lower and lower. He didn't realize how close they'd gotten until his lips brushed against Tengshe's hair. A sharp warmth spread through his body.

 

Suddenly, a hand gripped his neck, and before Shuai Zhaomin could swear, his lips were captured.

 

Tengshe's cigarette-tinged lips were surprisingly soft, warm, and damp. The kiss wasn't wild and rough as Shuai Zhaomin expected—it was slow, teasing, a deliberate torment. Their lips pressed tightly together, a tantalizing friction that left no room for escape.

 

It was less a kiss and more a taunting graze—just enough to set one's heart on edge.

 

Fuck! Shuai Zhaomin inwardly cursed. Did Tengshe think he'd just sit back and take it? It was his left hand that had been injured before, there was nothing wrong with his lower part.

 

He parted his lips slightly, catching Tengshe's lower lip between his teeth. His other hand darted to grip Tengshe's jaw, forcing it open. The texture of Tengshe's stubble scratched his palm, coarse and bristly.

 

The kiss deepened. Their faces pressed even closer as Tengshe's fingers tightened around Shuai Zhaomin's neck. Their tongues collided, grappling for dominance, each seeking to pull the other into their own control. The faint taste of iron tinged the frantic exchange, adding an edge to the feverish contact.

 

Neither was willing to back down. Whenever their lips separated briefly, they immediately crashed back together, as though seeking to consume one another whole. Saliva trailed down their chins, evidence of their unrestrained battle. Somewhere along the way, the desperate kisses traced downwards, Shuai Zhaomin's lips brushing against Tengshe's throbbing pulse, teeth grazing against his Adam's apple.

 

"Mm…" A muffled groan escaped one of them—neither could tell who, and mark after mark bloomed along their necks and shoulders.

 

Their clothes were shed amidst the chaos, exposing their sweat-drenched skin that burned with the shared heat. Tengshe's movements became bolder, fueled by the drug coursing through his veins. His large hands shoved aside the couch behind Shuai Zhaomin, forcing him onto the floor.

 

Tengshe loomed above, his red-brown eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. His lips curled into a dangerous smile as his weight bore down.

 

"Attorney Shuai, I promise to be gentle," Tengshe murmured, his deep voice a smoldering caress.

 

Shuai Zhaomin clicked his tongue, his grip tightening on Tengshe's broad shoulders. "Don't forget…" He leaned in, his bitten lips curving into a defiant smirk. "Words mean nothing if you can't back them up."

 

The strength of two hands made all the difference. Shuai Zhaomin shoved Tengshe's broad shoulders back. Normally, he wouldn't have been able to topple him, but the drug had clearly dulled Tengshe's balance. With a thud, Tengshe found himself on his back, their positions instantly reversed.

 

"Oh? Attorney Shuai, looks like I'll have to count on you to be gentle," Tengshe quipped. Despite his labored breathing and the fiery flush of his honeyed skin, his teasing, leisurely demeanor remained unchanged.

 

Straddling Tengshe's waist, Shuai Zhaomin felt an inexplicable frustration. "I'm always gentle," he shot back with a hint of irritation, his palm gliding across Tengshe's smooth, taut chest, where he could feel the pounding of his heart under a fine sheen of sweat.

 

"Mm… ah…" Tengshe let out a muffled groan as Shuai Zhaomin's fingers brushed over the sensitive brown nubs of his chest. The drug had heightened his sensitivity, leaving him vulnerable to even the slightest provocation.

 

This vulnerability only seemed to irritate him. Tengshe's sweat-slicked hand shot up, grabbing Shuai Zhaomin's wrist with a vice-like grip. He squeezed tightly, eliciting a pained expression from Shuai Zhaomin, whose dark eyes glared fiercely through his glasses.

 

"Attorney Shuai, your eyes don't look very gentle right now." Tengshe chuckled deeply, thoroughly enjoying the sight of Shuai Zhaomin's furrowed brow and the fiery indignation that colored his otherwise composed features.

 

"You bastard! I'll fucking rape you!" Shuai Zhaomin spat, yanking his left hand free while using his right to execute a somewhat clumsy, yet effective grappling move to pin Tengshe's arm.

 

"Rape me?" Tengshe's crimson-brown eyes narrowed with a slight haze, his usual malice replaced by a disoriented vulnerability.

 

It was oddly… endearing. A defanged beast, stripped of its claws, was nothing more than a helpless, albeit captivating, pet.

 

"That's hardly romantic. If you're so eager, though, I suppose I can accommodate," Tengshe murmured, pulling Shuai Zhaomin's left wrist to his lips. His tongue flicked across the veins beneath the skin, sending an electrifying shiver up Shuai Zhaomin's spine. His handsome face, already tinged with lust and irritation, twisted for a moment as his composure faltered.

 

"Oh? And how does Mr. Brelini plan to accommodate?" Shuai Zhaomin shot back, yanking Tengshe's hand to his own lips. He brushed his lips along his sensitive inner wrist, feeling the sudden tension in Tengshe's muscles. The heat of Shuai Zhaomin's breath on hiss skin seemed to grow even more searing.

 

The tingling sensation seeped into his bones, making Tengshe let out a muffled groan as he released Shuai Zhaomin's hand. "Move up a bit."

 

Shuai Zhaomin hesitated, his brows knitting. Yet, seeing no immediate threat of retaliation, he complied, sliding upward over the chiseled expanse of Tengshe's torso until his weight pressed against the unsteady rise and fall of Tengshe's chest.

 

"What are you—" What happened next made Shuai Zhaomin's eyes widen in disbelief. His lightly tanned cheeks flushed a deep red, and his body, like Tengshe's, felt as though it were on fire.

 

Tengshe's honey-golden hands swiftly tugged down Shuai Zhaomin's pants, freeing his already semi-hard member. Without hesitation, his tongue darted out to lick the tip.

 

"Lean down a bit more," Teng She's voice was husky, muffled by the flesh in his mouth. His teeth grazed the tender skin as he spoke, sending a sharp jolt through Shuai Zhaomin's waist.

 

There was no reason to resist. One hand braced against the couch behind Tengshe's head, the other grasping his jaw with a mixture of urgency and frustration. The rough texture of Tengshe's stubble scraped against the base of Shuai Zhaomin's length, eliciting a maddening blend of pain and pleasure.

 

At first, Tengshe teased the tip, his lips warm and wet as they closed over it. One hand encased the shaft, his firm strokes timed to the rhythm of his tongue's ministrations. When Shuai Zhaomin was fully hard, Tengshe took him deeper, letting his teeth lightly graze the ridges as he sucked with deliberate intensity.

 

The unrelenting scrape of the stubble paired with the heated suction left Shuai Zhaomin trembling, his lithe frame shuddering with barely restrained tension.

 

"Goddamn it… You're terrible at this," Shuai Zhaomin groaned, his voice a mix of exasperation and unbridled pleasure. While the sensation was undeniably stimulating, it lacked finesse—every move felt clumsy, just shy of truly satisfying. His complaints spilled forth almost reflexively.

 

"Oh? Do you think you could do better?" Tengshe smirked, his lips releasing their hold. His gaze, darkened by lust, locked onto Shuai Zhaomin's, his challenge laced with provocation.

 

"Want me to prove it? It'll cost you," Shuai Zhaomin shot back, unwilling to let the provocation slide. After all, what kind of man would he be if he didn't defend his honor?

 

"By all means, Attorney Shuai. I'd love to see your superior technique." Tengshe said, his voice low and laced with amusement. Deliberately, he extended his tongue, slowly trailing it along the quivering length before leaving a loud, wet kiss on the tip, where slick fluid had already begun to gather.

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