The camera lens had long since moved on, and the roar of the crowd triggered by their display had faded into the background. Yao Zhen’s breathing was a jagged mess; he felt like he was losing his mind, yet the tongue wreaking havoc in his mouth refused to retreat.
Furious and desperate, he bit down hard without a second thought, shoving against the man holding him tight.
His tongue bitten, Liang Jiming frowned in pain. The hand resting on Yao Zhen’s back moved to stroke him gently in comfort before he took one final, lingering suck of his lips.
Their lips and tongues finally parted.
The warmth over his eyes vanished. Yao Zhen’s lashes blinked rapidly as he glared with reddened eyes at the man in front of him.
Liang Jiming’s gaze was dark and heavy as he took in the reaction. He remained quiet for a moment before rasping out, “Shall we go?”
Yao Zhen didn’t answer. He simply threw off Liang Jiming’s hand and shoulder-checked his way out of the crowd. Liang Jiming stayed close to the side of the seething Young Master, shielding him from the now even denser group of people, guiding him toward the exit.
They emerged at the entrance of the garden zone. Yao Zhen dived right in, quickening his pace, unwilling to say a single word to the man trailing behind him.
The music, the lights, and the clamor of the crowd were gone. Here in the gardens, there was almost nothing but the two of them and the swaying shadows of trees under the streetlamps. Aside from their own footsteps, the only sound was the occasional gust of wind rustling through the leaves.
Yao Zhen walked faster and faster, head down, charging forward without a clear direction. Seeing this, Liang Jiming stepped up and caught him by the arm. “We need to talk.”
Yao Zhen stopped, reflexively shaking off his grip again and taking a step back.
“Does me kissing you humiliate you that much?” Liang Jiming’s movements stiffened, his voice deepening.
Yao Zhen looked away, avoiding his gaze, his voice sounding dry. “I didn’t ask you to kiss me. What right do you have to do that?”
His extreme reaction exceeded Liang Jiming’s expectations.
That kiss had indeed been an impulsive act on his part; he hadn’t thought much of it, simply following his primal desires. He didn’t feel he was in the wrong, either. Yao Zhen spent all day with the word “wife” hanging off his lips—given they were in that kind of relationship, why couldn’t he kiss him?
But clearly, the Young Master saw things differently.
Facing Yao Zhen’s interrogation, Liang Jiming suddenly felt a sharp, uncomfortable sense of being rejected. The dark fire in his heart, far from being extinguished, threatened to burn even brighter.
The Young Master’s lips kept moving, continuing his accusations. “You went too far. When did I ever say you could kiss me like that? Have you no shame—”
Liang Jiming took a step forward, forcefully pulling him back into his embrace. Tilting his head, he sought out those lips that could utter nothing but cutting words and kissed him again.
One hand pressed firmly against Yao Zhen’s back while the other threaded through the hair at the back of his neck, completely imprisoning him and pinning him against his own chest.
This kiss was even more violent and overbearing than the last. Ignoring Yao Zhen’s struggles, Liang Jiming hungrily bit open his lips, his tongue invading and swiveling through his mouth with ruthless dominance.
As the roof of his mouth was swept by that forceful, invading tongue, Yao Zhen’s scalp went numb, and he shivered uncontrollably. Every inch of his mouth was being ground against; this frantic, tangled way of kissing felt more like a predatory conquest. His own breath was driven out, replaced by the overbearing scent of Liang Jiming being forced into his lungs.
Liang Jiming’s movements were borderline savage. He shifted his angle, deepening the kiss as he held the man in his arms. Yao Zhen’s tongue was squeezed and ravaged; he couldn’t even swallow his own saliva, which trickled down the corner of his forced-open mouth in a disheveled mess.
Sticky, wet sounds were drawn from deep within their throats, mingling with heavy, labored breathing. Yao Zhen was nearly driven mad by the shameful, squelching noises of their clashing lips and tongues.
He had no strength to resist. His lips and tongue were bitten raw, and he soon tasted the metallic tang of blood amidst the dizzying haze of oxygen deprivation. Yet there was no escape; his legs felt so weak he could barely stand, leaving him entirely dependent on the strength of the man pinning him down.
What started as muffled whimpers of struggle eventually gave way to nothing but heavy gasps. Yao Zhen’s brain had completely short-circuited; he had no idea how long the kiss actually lasted.
As for Liang Jiming, he was acting on pure instinct—wanting to make him shut up, wanting to teach him a lesson, wanting to tear him apart and consume him whole.
Fireworks began to launch from the beach. Brilliant blossoms of light shot into the sky, their bursts illuminating both of their eyes for a split second.
Yao Zhen’s wet eyelashes fluttered weakly. In that fleeting moment of clarity, he saw the terrifying, breathtaking desire swirling in the man’s eyes.
…I shouldn’t have provoked him. The thought surfaced, and Yao Zhen felt himself on the verge of a breakdown. He began to struggle for air, eyes wide and dazed, forced to endure the other’s relentless, unending deep kiss.
Liang Jiming finally let go, just before he could truly suffocate.
With their foreheads pressed together, Liang Jiming’s breathing was exceptionally heavy. He softened his movements, gently licking Yao Zhen’s numbed, senseless lips.
Yao Zhen couldn’t say a single word. Physiological tears clung to his lashes, trembling and on the verge of falling; he looked like someone who had truly been bullied to the limit.
Seeing him like this, Liang Jiming’s rationality slowly returned. He frowned slightly. “You…”
Yao Zhen suddenly snapped out of it and shoved him with every ounce of strength he had left.
Liang Jiming was pushed back a step, stumbling as he released his hold. Without that support, Yao Zhen’s legs gave out, and he collapsed.
Liang Jiming’s pupils constricted. He reached out to help him, but Yao Zhen slapped his hand away with force.
“Don’t touch me.”
The Young Master crouched on the ground, burying his head in his knees. He didn’t want to look at him; he felt aggrieved and furious.
Bastard, brute, animal… Yao Zhen cursed the man a hundred times in his head, bitterly regretting his decision to help him. He should have left him to fend for himself.
Liang Jiming crouched down too, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Look at me.”
Yao Zhen refused to acknowledge him, keeping his head buried. “Go away,” he muttered into his knees.
Liang Jiming’s hand moved, sliding across his neck to cup the side of his face. Yao Zhen immediately tried to pull away, finally looking up. His eyes were bloodshot as he glared at him. “What else do you want?”
“…Stop crying.” Catching sight of those wet eyes, the man who had done the bullying lost a bit of his confidence.
“Who’s crying?” The Young Master snapped, as if his tail had been stepped on. “Get away from me!”
Liang Jiming didn’t listen. His palm gently stroked the other’s face, passing over the mole on his cheek before his thumb reached the corner of an eye to lightly wipe away a tear. “Have you no shame?”
Dammit! Yao Zhen wanted to pounce on him and start a fight, but he remembered what had just happened and lost his nerve before he could even roll up his sleeves. A wise man knows when to back down; he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to walk into a third round.
“Who’s the one with no shame?” the Young Master questioned with reddened eyes. “Where do you get the nerve to kiss me? Have you remembered anything about our past yet?”
Liang Jiming’s fingers paused. “Are you still unwilling to forgive me?” he asked helplessly. “Must I remember?”
“Otherwise?” Yao Zhen’s brain was mostly back online, and he used his words to block him. “Or, like you said, you’ve ‘fallen in love with me again.’ Then I’ll forgive you. So say it. Say you love me. Say it right now, and I’ll forgive you immediately and let you kiss me all you want.”
“…”
Liang Jiming’s lips moved, but he was at a loss for words.
He certainly had feelings for the Young Master, but it hadn’t reached that level yet. He could have easily uttered those three words just to coax him, but seeing how much the Young Master cared about it, he didn’t want to treat emotions like a game.
“…I’m sorry.”
Yao Zhen sneered inwardly. He knew it. This dog man was just lusting after his looks; love had nothing to do with it.
His fleeting thought of just giving up and revealing the truth vanished instantly. If he spoke up now, he wouldn’t get to see this bastard weeping in regret; instead, he’d just be letting the bastard take advantage of him for nothing. No way!
“An apology is useless!” the Young Master barked.
Liang Jiming asked resignedly, “What do you want then?”
Yao Zhen took the opportunity to set terms. “If you don’t love me, you aren’t allowed to kiss me whenever you want. We’ll only make up once you truly fall in love with me.”
He would string the man along while defending his virtue—it was the perfect excuse.
Liang Jiming was silent for a moment. “Must it be like this?”
Yao Zhen remained stubborn. “I don’t kiss people who don’t love me. Even if it’s you, it’s a no.”
Liang Jiming watched him quietly. The fireworks continued to explode overhead, the light and shadow shifting across the younger man’s face, occasionally illuminating his reddened eyes and his lips, which were still glistening from the kiss.
…I still want to kiss him.
That fleeting thought flickered in Liang Jiming’s mind, making his gaze darken even further.
His fingers pressed one last time against the corner of Yao Zhen’s eye before he finally withdrew his hand, choosing to compromise. “Fine.”
Yao Zhen breathed a secret sigh of relief.
Finally, I’ve bluffed my way through.
Liang Jiming stood up first and extended a hand toward him. “Get up.”
The Young Master had no desire to be touched by him again. Ignoring the hand, he braced himself against his knees, attempting to push himself up on his own.
Unfortunately, his legs were far too weak. Depleted of all strength, his body wobbled; before he could find his balance, he began to tumble again.
Expecting exactly this, Liang Jiming was quick to act. He reached out and caught him steadily. Yao Zhen stumbled a step, falling helplessly back into his embrace.
“…”
It was hopeless.
The Young Master was spiraling in a chaotic whirlwind of self-loathing, regret, and utter humiliation.
Liang Jiming watched him, a sudden low chuckle escaping his lips right by Yao Zhen’s ear. “Stand still.”
Realizing he couldn’t break free, Yao Zhen simply gave up. He leaned his entire body weight against Liang Jiming, saying spitefully, “My legs are weak. I can’t stand.”
“Mhm.” Liang Jiming bent down slightly, and keeping his arms wrapped around him, he swept him up in a bridal carry.
Yao Zhen was stunned. “You—”
“Don’t squirm,” Liang Jiming warned. “If I drop you, I’m not taking responsibility.”
The Young Master swallowed his curses and finally behaved. Fine. Carry me if you want. Carry me all you like; get your fill.
Liang Jiming adjusted his hold and walked composedly. Back to the hotel, into the elevator, up the stairs—he didn’t let go once. The moment they entered the room and Yao Zhen felt his strength returning, he scrambled out of Liang Jiming’s arms and bolted into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Standing before the bathroom mirror, he finally saw the wreck he’d become: red eyes, red nose, flushed cheeks, and very red lips. The spot where he’d been bitten was still seeping a tiny bit of blood, feeling both numb and swollen.
Washing his mouth wouldn’t help this time; his tongue had been bitten too. It had been sucked for so long that his entire mouth was filled with the lingering taste of that “brute” and the burning sensation of the forced kiss.
Too much. Truly too much.
Now that his head was clear, the reality of what happened hit him—that “dog man” was such a good kisser, he must be incredibly experienced. Yao Zhen thought sourly about how many times he must have kissed Jinghe. Then he thought about how he’d never even kissed anyone else.
He was at a massive loss.
“…”
Dammit, I’m so angry.