Wen Yan watched as the woman not far away nodded repeatedly, saying it was fine.
From the moment they entered the room, his pheromones had, almost instinctively, surged toward her.
Every inch of them rushed forward, competing with one another.
He had long noticed the slight tremble in Qiu Zheng’s legs—she was likely frightened by the overwhelming, ferocious pheromones. He should have restrained himself from the start.
He had indeed thought so. Yet he could sense the pheromones in the air growing even denser—tinged with excitement.
High-level alpha pheromones had an absolute advantage, especially over omegas. Controlling them, making them submit, even inducing heat—these things were theoretically effortless.
And yet, this woman—whose compatibility with him was a perfect match—showed an unusual resistance to his pheromones. Like now, the air was filled with his scent, but her omega pheromones had yet to emerge.
That faint trembling was one of the few reactions she gave him. Even so, it was enough to make his own pheromones surge uncontrollably.
On the surface, however, the man remained calm, betraying not a hint of extra emotion.
“I didn’t consider it thoroughly.”
The apology came, though without much apology in his tone. Wen Yan reached up and loosened his tie. The crooked, slackened tie softened his otherwise unapproachable demeanor.
Qiu Zheng couldn’t help but sneak a few more glances.
Though she couldn’t smell pheromones, she could still feel the hormones. She had to admit—when he wasn’t wearing that deadpan expression, the man was… quite something.
She swallowed unconsciously—only to meet Wen Yan’s gaze.
His expression seemed less cold than before.
“Are you going to keep standing there?”
Qiu Zheng choked slightly. Though that was true, her legs wouldn’t move. It wasn’t until Wen Yan walked over again that things changed—his alpha strength becoming tangible. When he effortlessly lifted her, Qiu Zheng felt like all the weight she carried was meaningless.
According to their agreement, as husband and wife, they were obligated to help each other through sensitive periods.
Qiu Zheng didn’t actually have one, but she pretended she did—even keeping suppressants at home for show.
As for what “help” entailed, the agreement didn’t specify. At first, she only needed to sit with Wen Yan for a while. Later… sitting turned into something else.
The man’s heavy breathing brushed against her ear, so hot it made her dizzy. Not just his breath—his whole body was burning. Even his gaze felt scorching. In the dim light of the room, Qiu Zheng could see sweat beading on his forehead.
At this moment, the man had shed his usual composure. His tense jaw seemed to be holding something back.
Qiu Zheng felt uneasy under his intense stare and instinctively called out, “Wen Yan.”
The moment she spoke, it was like throwing fuel onto a fire. His gaze darkened, and suddenly he leaned down, capturing her lips.
Qiu Zheng even tasted a hint of sweetness—was it from the candy he’d eaten earlier?
She couldn’t think further. His kiss was too urgent, stealing all her air. The lack of oxygen left her mind hazy.
Somewhere in her blurred consciousness, she remembered—Wen Yan hadn’t used to kiss.
Even after the most intimate acts, they had never kissed. Back then, Qiu Zheng had only mocked it internally as some cliché domineering CEO trope. She hadn’t thought much of it.
Later—she couldn’t remember when—it started.
And once it did, it became unstoppable.
He grew especially fond of kissing, going from clumsy at first to now overwhelmingly skilled.
In the chaos, Qiu Zheng reached out and touched the chest muscles she had been eyeing in the restaurant earlier.
Soft, yet firm.
The man’s breathing paused for a moment before growing even heavier. His burning kisses moved downward from her lips, finally reaching a spot on her neck.
Feeling his breath against her skin, Qiu Zheng shuddered.
According to this world’s anatomy, that spot was an omega’s gland. Compared to ideas like marking—which still hadn’t become common sense to her—she was more worried that if he bit down and nothing happened, she might be exposed.
She instinctively tried to dodge.
Normally, Wen Yan would avoid that area during intimacy—but today, for some reason, he pursued it relentlessly.
His hot breath brushed against the sensitive skin, sending waves of shivers through her. Then came the damp warmth—she could clearly feel his licking, his teeth gently grazing, sometimes applying pressure, a faint sting as if he might break the skin at any moment.
A strange fear rose within her—like an omega’s instinct. She lifted her hand to cover the spot, but Wen Yan caught her hand and held it down.
“I won’t bite,” his voice was hoarse, filled with heavy breaths. “Give me your pheromones.”
Qiu Zheng fell silent.
She… didn’t know how. Omegas, like alphas, were supposed to have pheromones, and most could control them. Qiu Zheng wasn’t even sure if she had any—and she definitely didn’t know how to release them.
Her hesitation, however, only fueled Wen Yan’s urgency and agitation.
He continued to lick at her gland, the skin already flushed red. If not for the last thread of reason, he would have bitten down.
It had only been two months since they last met.
Yet the craving brought by their compatibility was far fiercer than he had imagined.
His teeth rested against that soft spot, applying pressure bit by bit. He should stop—he couldn’t go any further. He could already sense the fear and resistance beneath him.
But even as his eyes reddened from restraint, his teeth didn’t move away.
Until a faint scent drifted through the air.
A citrusy sweetness.
It was very faint, yet it instantly drove Wen Yan’s pheromones into a frenzy. Like a beast, they tore through the air, engulfing that newly emerged scent, shredding it apart, and desperately craving more.
His match was far too stingy—only giving him a little at a time.
But it was enough to restore a sliver of his rationality.
He pushed himself up and met Qiu Zheng’s slightly frightened gaze. There was still a trace of moisture at the corner of her eyes. Wen Yan felt another kind of instinct stirring within him—not driven by pheromones, but something more primal.
He wanted to bully her, to make her cry harder.
Qiu Zheng only felt that today’s Wen Yan was especially dangerous.
As if he had truly turned into a beast that could devour her whole.
At the peak of desire, he gripped her waist tightly, his hoarse voice sounding with difficulty: “My pheromones are a bit unstable.”
Qiu Zheng was still lost in the lingering afterglow, staring at him blankly, unable to process his words.
“Hm?”
Only at this moment did the woman’s citrus scent flow freely, filling the room with a sweetness that made one dizzy.
Wen Yan’s throat bobbed. “Forget it.”
The next moment, Qiu Zheng lost the ability to think again. The heavy curtains blocked out all light, leaving her unable to tell day from night.