“By the way,” Tracy said, looking at the female’s impeccably tailored black military uniform with some curiosity. “You were not wearing this set when you went out this morning, right?”
He remembered the female had been wearing his fully armored combat suit when he was scrambling about outside today. Why had he changed now?
The collar of his white shirt was pristine, worn under a tuxedo vest that accentuated his firm waistline. His outer jacket had already been removed and hung by the door.
The naked hunger in the male’s eyes made Adonis feel somewhat embarrassed. He had wanted to return as soon as possible, but his legs, having stepped out of the combat room, had hesitated and pulled back. He had spent the whole day scrambling outside; he was too dirty and sweaty. He did not want to return covered in filth; it would make him look too disheveled.
So, he had gone to the combat room, exposing the scars on his body in front of the envious gazes of other females, and taken a hurried battle shower. The dense, intricate hickeys had already faded, leaving only deep and shallow whip marks on his body, along with some finger-print bruises accidentally left by the male’s nails during yesterday’s struggle and entanglement.
He had tried his best to wash quickly, but younger insects still could not help but crowd around him.
“Major, your male must be very gentle, right?” they probed with curiosity.
“What does it actually feel like to be harvested? Is it the same as the feeling in a treatment pod?”
“Is your male good-looking? When he punishes you, do you feel excitement or pain?”
His subordinates, who usually maintained a respectful distance, were unable to restrain their overwhelming curiosity. They were all working hard to accumulate military merit, some purely for contribution points, but others because they truly wanted to experience a close encounter with a legendary male, even if it meant spending a fortune in points. Adonis, who they had originally thought was the least likely to succeed in matchmaking, had fallen under the spell of a male and no longer spoke of his previous violent rhetoric, leaving them burning with questions. Are males really that good? Even Adonis—the superior officer who treated insects like stalks of grass and spent every day living in the combat room—was now in such a rush to return home?
Adonis did not mind being watched; he was absolutely confident in his physique. However, he was not keen on sharing the specific details of his interactions with the male. He simply replied vaguely, “It is quite good,” though he could not help but scrub harder while cleaning himself.
Closing his eyes, he remembered Tracy’s moist lips. He was always so gentle and patient, as if he could drive away all pain. Fragmented, indistinct memories flashed through his mind: pain, pleasure, intricately intertwined, then fading away. He felt that amidst those complex, envious gazes, he could almost taste the sweet honey rising to the tip of his tongue.
“Wow!” A commotion erupted around him.
“Adonis thinks it is quite good.”
“Then it must be exceptionally good!”
The gazes of the young females became even more ardent. They seemed to want to look through the marks on Adonis’s body to guess the divine pleasure of spiritual combing, and how they themselves would handle it when their turn came. Adonis, however, quietly drew the curtain tighter, blocking those prying eyes peering through the gaps.
“The combat room has a bathhouse. I keep some spare clothes there.”
“I took a shower before I came back.”
Adonis’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Seeing the surprised and widened eyes of Tracy, he felt completely ill at ease, not knowing where to put his hands or feet. Something seemed wrong. He saw a smile gradually emerging in the male’s eyes.
Adonis took a deep breath, his lips parting slightly. He wanted to explain the reason for his shower, but no matter how he phrased it, it sounded like he was just trying to cover his tracks. So, he dropped his shoulders, pressed his lips together, and sat in the chair, no longer caring what the male thought.
“No wonder the consort smells so fragrant today,” Tracy said, leaning in and squinting his eyes as he took a deep breath.
The scent of pomelo blossoms was refreshing. Adonis’s ears turned bright red instantly, and he unconsciously wrapped his pheromones around Tracy.
Tracy’s breath brushed against Adonis’s neck. “Let me check to see if the consort has truly washed clean.”
His long, slender fingers dexterously unbuttoned Adonis’s first button, his fingertips grazing Adonis’s Adam’s apple by accident. The slightly protruding Adam’s apple trembled, and he gripped the back of the chair tightly.
“Did you go to the competition today?” Tracy sat astride him, bringing a sense of overbearing dominance.
“Yes,” Adonis replied. He was not good at small talk, but he would certainly answer his male’s questions.
“Are you injured?”
Their breaths were tangled together; one glance upward and he could see the male’s high, straight nose bridge. Tracy had delicate, exquisite features, soft skin, long eyelashes, and eyes often filled with sly laughter. Sometimes, Adonis felt he was no different from those males raised in the upper districts of the First Central City who never showed their faces, but at other times, Adonis felt he was more wicked than any of them.
He unbuttoned his shirt one by one, using the excuse of checking for injuries while his fingers lingered constantly on his chest. Every tiny scar was gently stroked by his fingertips, bringing a wave of numbness and itching.
Adonis felt his breathing become rapid; his body began to act on its own, and he felt inexplicably restless.
His heart was beating fast and in a panic. He could not help but touch his neck collar, which, to his surprise, did not sound an alarm. Yet, he felt his spiritual sea was surging toward an explosion.
“What is wrong?”
Tracy saw the little female beneath him looking both panicked and apprehensive, a stark contrast to the Adonis he saw on the battlefield during the day.
“I am very worried, My Lord.”
Adonis adjusted the sensitivity of his neck collar to the maximum.
“My spiritual sea might experience a disturbance, and I might hurt you.”
“You will not.” Tracy patted his back, stroking down his spine.
“The neck collar will protect me; it will warn me. Do not worry, hmm?”
He kissed the female’s lips, pinched his chin, and made him open his mouth.
Tracy used his thumb to stir Adonis’s tongue; it was as hot, wet, and soft as he had imagined.
The female is becoming more and more obedient, Tracy thought.
The female’s eyes were slightly moist. “Please go take a shower first, and I will prepare a few things, okay?”
“Of course,” Tracy readily agreed. Although he felt the current atmosphere was wonderful and did not want to interrupt it, since his consort had requested it, he being a reasonable male would naturally comply.
“Waiting for you, my darling.”
Tracy went into the room to shower.
Adonis gradually relaxed his body. He stared blankly at the items he had brought back for a while, then gritted his teeth, entered the authorization, and opened the combat room.
The combat room contained various equipment he used for regular training, including a small shower stall. Because he was somewhat of a clean freak, he disliked entering the bedroom while covered in sweat, so he always washed himself clean before leaving. This, however, bought him some time.
His subordinates’ words echoed in his mind.
“What? You actually let the male serve you? Did you not take the initiative yesterday?”
Some fortunate females had been passing on their experience to him.
“You absolutely cannot do that, Adonis.”
They said, “The male will feel very bored and uninterested in a dull female. Perhaps yesterday he was only fulfilling his duty through gritted teeth just so you would not die.”
“Exactly. Otherwise, how could your wounds be so light?”
One female, who had a very loving relationship with his male, taught him the secret while washing his body: “You must not sit and wait for death, Adonis.”
“Your male is not ugly, and your pre-marital affairs made such a scene; we have all heard about them.”
“You are too jealous, Adonis,” the females lectured. “You have only just acquired a male, and strong possessiveness is your nature; there is nothing to be ashamed of. At first, the males might be proud of their charm and their ability to keep you obsessively infatuated, but over time, they will become annoyed.”
“So, you must take some measures first.”
“What measures?” Adonis, who was usually reticent and did not like discussing such things, could not help but ask.
The group of married females all smiled knowingly.
“This is it.” They shared a web link with Adonis, suggesting that the top ten recommended styles were all worth trying.
Adonis opened the box with a blank expression.
He took a look.
Then, he threw it fiercely into the corner of the bathroom.
“Adonis?” Tracy finished showering, but his consort was nowhere to be found.
He searched for a long time before discovering Adonis emerging from the combat room, impeccably dressed.
His face held a trace of awkwardness and a flush, and his walking posture was slightly off.
“What are you doing?” Tracy was curious, but the female pressed his lips together, his brows slightly furrowed, and his eyes were as surging and profound as the deep sea at night.
He felt even more surprised, but since the female did not speak, he found it inconvenient to pursue the matter.
The female entered the room first.
The bedsheets had been changed; the black silk reflected a faint silver light under the lights. The female sat upright on the edge of the bed, serious and aloof.
Tracy had no choice but to sit down as well. The atmosphere was awkwardly bizarre.
He watched the female’s earlobes slowly catch fire and could not help but want to pinch them.
But the desire for a prank bubbled up, and Tracy restrained himself from moving.
Adonis looked over with questioning eyes.
Tracy blinked.
He asked slowly, “What is wrong?”
Adonis clenched his fists.
He was a bit nervous; he first tightened his fists, took a deep breath, and then released them.
Then, as if he had undergone a long psychological struggle, he took another deep breath and clenched his fists again.
After stammering for a long time, the whole insect seemed soaked in pomelo nectar—wet, soft, serious, and cold, wrapped tightly in contradictory temperaments.
Tracy had enjoyed the cute, conflicted appearance of his consort enough. Only then did he pretend to be surprised, lifting a strap with his fingertip, and asked in astonishment: “What is this?”
Adonis seemed to exhale, finally relaxing his fists.
But at the same time, his back stiffened, making the waistline of his shoulders and back even clearer.
Beneath the white, translucent shirt were bright red straps.
The female had packaged himself as an exquisite gift, waiting for him to unbox the gift box.
Tracy’s long, slender fingers wound around the strap bit by bit, watching the unlocking progress of his gift gradually reveal itself.
Tracy lifted his eyelids to observe Adonis’s expression.
His lips were pressed tightly together, but the rustling sounds were constantly entering his ears. Tracy deliberately slowed his speed, but he could hear the pounding of his own heart.
Separated by that military uniform he had praised as beautiful, he could see the muscles beneath being bound into a firm shape.
Each knot was untied, but the end could no longer be pulled.
What was connected there?
Tracy was truly curious now.