Chapter 38 - Parallel Lines

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Chapter 38

 

 

A low hum rumbled from Shuai Zhaomin's chest as he felt Tengshe's tongue flicker between his fingers—scalding hot, wet, and maddeningly pleasurable. Since the other party had shown sincerity, it wouldn't do to brush him off too casually.

 

"Which side do you prefer?"

 

Throwing the question back at him, Shuai Zhaomin arched a brow, a smirk curling his lips—both teasing and challenging. His dark, desire-glazed eyes glistened as he squinted slightly, gazing at Tengshe's slanted, fox-like eyes.

 

"Attorney Shuai, we're really wasting time here."

 

Tengshe laughed, the words muffled around Shuai Zhaomin's fingers. The subtle vibrations sent tingles through his skin, his teeth grazing against the pads of his fingertips. Shuai Zhaomin let out a soft hum.

 

"Didn't you say this was part of the fun?" Shuai Zhaomin withdrew his fingers slightly, only for Tengshe's thick, warm tongue to trail from the base to the tip, the featherlight sensation igniting a tremor deep in his nerves that surged straight to his brain. Unable to resist, he pushed his fingers back into the inviting heat, repeating the motion several times—mimicking the rhythm of something far more intimate.

 

Tengshe played along, licking and nibbling lightly, occasionally letting out an audible, lewd suction sound.

 

"Mmm… Ah…" His dark eyes fully closed, Shuai Zhaomin rested his forehead against Tengshe's, their breaths intertwining in the charged air. Below, both their rigid arousals pressed together, grinding instinctively.

 

The slick friction between them created an obscene wet sound. Shuai Zhaomin's hips moved with increasing urgency, his rounded tip slipping against Tengshe's firm abdomen multiple times, leaving glistening trails in its wake.

 

"Ah—" A sharp spasm coursed through his waist, a tingling numbness radiating up his spine. He knew he was close. His grinding motion halted abruptly as he sucked in deep, unsteady breaths.

 

Through his hazy vision, he caught the playful glint in Tengshe's reddish-brown eyes, tinged with intrigue and a trace of restraint. That look alone sent another involuntary twitch through his lower abdomen. "If you dare ask, I'll beat the crap out of you..."

 

Tengshe languidly licked Shuai Zhaomin's slickened fingers one last time before letting them slip from his mouth. A silvery strand of saliva clung between his plush lips and Shuai Zhaomin's fingertips, shimmering under the dim light. He curved his damp lips into a smirk. "Need me to help you with that?"

 

"Like hell I do!" Shuai Zhaomin shot him a glare before leaning in and biting his lips hard. "Damn it, I was being respectful—I didn't want you to feel like some blow-up doll."

 

"Have you ever seen a blow-up doll this strong and beautiful?" Tengshe countered, kissing him back—only to be bitten again, harder this time.

 

"Shut up. I want to go all the way today, so don't you dare make me go soft." Their swollen lengths rubbed against each other once more, drawing a breathy hum from Shuai Zhaomin. Wrapping his arms around Tengshe's neck, he shifted his body forward slightly.

 

In this position, his legs straddled Tengshe's waist, his arousal quivering slightly against the heat of Tengshe's sculpted abdomen. Just this much was enough to make him feel like he could spill at any moment.

 

Beneath his flushed skin, Tengshe's taut muscles pulsed with restrained power, rising and falling with his slightly unsteady breaths. The friction of his firm body against Shuai Zhaomin's soaked tip sent electric pleasure through his nerves.

 

Large hands cupped his round, toned buttocks, kneading them gently but making no move to probe deeper. Tengshe's blazing hardness merely slid along the cleft, teasing but not yet entering.

 

"Fuck…" Shuai Zhaomin groaned hoarsely, his fingers gripping the back of Tengshe's head, pulling him closer to his exposed throat.

 

Pleasure built up within him, spiraling higher and higher until his mind went blank. With a sharp gasp, white-hot release splattered across Tengshe's golden-hued skin. Tengshe bit down on the curve of Shuai Zhaomin's tense neck, leaving a deep imprint of his teeth.

 

Spent, his body slumped against Tengshe's chest, a soft hum escaping his lips, as if utterly content. His mood seemed good as well—his lips, pressed against Tengshe's muscled shoulder, nibbled lazily.

 

As expected, food and sex were primal instincts. No normal man could go six months without release—it had been so long that he'd nearly forgotten just how mind-blowingly good an orgasm could feel.

 

His body felt heavy, his consciousness drifting. Even so, his lower half moved instinctively, following the glide of Tengshe's length as he ground against him.

 

Once was nowhere near enough.

 

His lips, which had been teasingly nibbling along Tengshe's shoulder, slowly moved upward, tracing over the elegant lines of his throat before brushing against the rough stubble on his chin. The slight scrape against his cheek tickled, but instead of being unpleasant, it sent a different kind of tingling pleasure through him.

 

Tengshe's lips landed on the crown of his head, pressing soft, lingering kisses into his hair.

 

Between them, wetness seeped freely, his entrance involuntarily fluttering open just the slightest bit, reacting to the heated, rigid presence brushing against it.

 

It felt like they were already making love, yet it wasn't nearly enough. Was he really going to have to say it?

 

Fuck it.

 

"Hurry... and come!" he blurted. If he had to say it, so be it! What goes around comes around—next time, he wouldn't let Tengshe win!

 

"No condom, though." Tengshe chuckled, his usual composure slightly frayed at the edges, the tremor in his voice betraying just how tightly he was holding himself back.

 

Of course, he was at his limit too. Grinding like this was torture for any man. But he wanted to hear Shuai Zhaomin say it first—not just for the sex, but for the conquest.

 

"Shut up! Get in!" Though his limbs still felt weak, Shuai Zhaomin lifted his hips, pressing his most vulnerable place against the sharply defined tip.

 

His gasping lips were captured in an urgent, searing kiss. Calloused hands, burning with heat, gripped his waist tightly before thrusting upward, slipping past the final barrier.

 

"Mmngh!" A strangled moan was swallowed by Tengshe's invading tongue, followed by another as the thick intrusion stretched him unbearably deep.

 

Shuai Zhaomin yanked at Tengshe's short, tousled curls, the overwhelming depth of the kiss and the unrelenting fullness inside him leaving him breathless. His temples throbbed violently, and his mind rang with static as he was utterly consumed.

 

It wasn't as though he hadn't been taken before, but that was ages ago. And back then, that person hadn't been built like Tengshe—so thick, so unforgiving, nearly splitting him in two.

 

A faint taste of blood mingled with the heady scent of sweat and musk. The insides of his thighs quivered uncontrollably, muscles spasming like a cramp, unable to support his weight.

 

Tengshe groaned, the sound deep and needy. He refused to let go, still kissing him, still driving deeper. Even with his thoughts blurred, Shuai Zhaomin could guess why. He smirked—he couldn't help it.

 

The burn inside him intensified. Tengshe pushed in, relentless, until his swollen sac nestled against the curve of Shuai Zhaomin's taut backside. Only then did their lips part, and both men gasped for breath.

 

"Mmgh… f-fuck… ugh… are you t-trying to kill me—ahh—!"

 

Tengshe suddenly pulled out, the thick ridges of his length dragging against the tender passage on the way out, and Shuai Zhaomin couldn't hold back a whimper.

 

Shit! What "little death"? He was about to fucking die for real! Fuck! Which dumbass let this damn snake inside?!

 

…Oh, right. He did.

 

"Too tight… relax…" Tengshe's voice was a low, guttural rasp, rolling up from his throat. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto Shuai Zhaomin's chest, sizzling like tiny embers.

 

For his own sake, Shuai Zhaomin had no choice but to curse under his breath and force his body to loosen.

 

A few thrusts later, they finally found a rhythm that worked. Shuai Zhaomin exhaled sharply, surrendering to the pleasure of Tengshe's movements—strong, deliberate, never monotonous. When he plunged deep, he wouldn't rush to pull out; instead, he would ground against that tender, hidden spot inside him, slow and unrelenting.

 

"Ah… fuck… feels… so good…!" He didn't bother hiding his pleasure. His supple waist rolled naturally, matching the tempo, sometimes teasing by tightening around Tengshe, drawing low groans from him.

 

His second climax hit hard. Tengshe ruthlessly slammed against his sweet spot, leaving him too spent to resist. His body went limp, collapsing against those tense, muscular shoulders. Saliva trickled from the corner of his mouth as he struggled to breathe.

 

"Ah—ahhh!" A strangled cry tore from him, his release spilling out in shuddering waves. His entire frame convulsed, fingers digging into Tengshe's broad back, leaving bloody scratches.

 

Perhaps overwhelmed by the tight squeeze of his climax, Tengshe let out a ragged growl. He thrust a few more times before swiftly pulling out, releasing a scalding flood over Shuai Zhaomin's round, trembling backside. The warmth faded quickly, trickling down the curve of his thigh…

 

For a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply clung to each other, chest to chest, heartbeats gradually syncing.

 

"Why did you sleep with Fitch?" It was a long time before Shuai Zhaomin finally found the strength to ask. He slumped lazily against Tengshe's embrace, vaguely irritated by the sticky mess dripping down his skin.

 

But his curiosity outweighed his discomfort. He had seen Tengshe with Fitch before—watched their sex scene. Tengshe hadn't seemed this intense back then… What, was he secretly an M? The biggest difference between him and Fitch was that he bit and clawed, wasn't it?

 

"Why not? When someone says they love you, and you can't refuse them." Tengshe smirked, cruel and cutting.

 

"You trying to say I did the same thing?" Rolling his eyes, Shuai Zhaomin buried his face against the bruised, love-bitten skin of Tengshe's throat. "You're such a twisted bastard."

 

Tengshe only laughed, tightening his grip around Shuai Zhaomin's waist.

 

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