Rong Jingchen’s thumb lingered on her chin, stroking it gently.
“And besides…”
His tone was unhurried.
“I’m your husband. What’s wrong with looking? I don’t know what you’re afraid of.”
Xu Jingshuang was left speechless by his words.
They had only gotten their marriage certificate a few hours ago, and this man could already say those two words without batting an eye?
“Who—who said I’m afraid?” she retorted immediately, lifting her chin with a hint of pride.
“Then let go,” Rong Jingchen raised an eyebrow, the curve of his lips deepening. “And let me keep looking.”
Xu Jingshuang’s eyes went wide.
“Pervert!”
Rong Jingchen didn’t argue. He even nodded and said matter-of-factly, “I admit it.”
Xu Jingshuang was completely stunned.
What kind of nonsense was this man spouting? She was genuinely shocked by his words—being called a pervert and actually admitting it with a smile.
For a moment, she didn’t know how to respond.
Rong Jingchen watched her puffed-up expression and found himself in an inexplicably good mood.
Those beautiful peach blossom eyes were wide open, filled with disbelief. She looked like an exasperated little kitten, yet there wasn’t a trace of intimidation about her.
If anything, it made him want to tease her more.
His fingers continued downward, his fingertips tracing slowly along the curve of her collarbone.
Xu Jingshuang was forced to lean back inch by inch.
First her waist gave way, unable to hold her up, and she fell back onto the bed.
The man followed her down with the motion, one hand braced beside her ear, the other still pressed against her collarbone.
His eyes held a fierce, unguarded possessiveness. His gaze landed on that slender, smooth neck, and suddenly he wanted to bite it.
The thought surfaced without any warning—something more primal, a desire to leave a mark on her, to make her cry, to see those stubborn peach blossom eyes fill with tears because of him.
He lowered his head.
His lips met the side of her neck. The instant they touched, Xu Jingshuang’s mind went blank—like something had exploded inside her.
The man’s lips were slightly cool, and a tingling numbness spread from her neck through her entire body, making half of her go weak. Her fingers instinctively clenched the bedsheet beneath her, knuckles turning white.
She couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.
Rong Jingchen’s lips didn’t leave. He gave a gentle suck, his tongue flicking against that patch of skin. When he pulled away, the skin was tinged with a faint pink, like a red plum blossom just beginning to bloom.
His hand continued to caress the skin beside her collarbone, his thumb tracing slow, lingering circles.
As his lips left her neck, he murmured two words in a low, hoarse voice laced with suppressed breath: “Sweet.”
Xu Jingshuang was both embarrassed and indignant. The tingling weakness that had surged from deep within her body hadn’t yet faded, and her breathing was still uneven.
“You said you wouldn’t touch me.” Her voice trembled, but she still protested. “I never thought Mr. Rong would be a hypocrite.”
Rong Jingchen hovered above her, looking at her reddened eyes and those full, rosy lips parting with each breath. He narrowed his eyes slightly.
“I never claimed to be a gentleman.” He lowered his head, his nose brushing against hers, so close that their breaths intertwined.
“Mrs. Rong is a feast for the eyes. I simply couldn’t help myself.”
Xu Jingshuang lost again.
This man spoke like he was playing chess—every move calculated in advance. She thought she was counterattacking, but in reality, she was just walking into the trap he had set.
She was flustered.
She disliked this feeling of being pinned down and controlled. It had always been her who made others suffer.
Now this man had her pressed beneath him on the bed, kissed her neck, and left her unable to speak.
This wouldn’t do. She had to take back the upper hand.
With that thought, Xu Jingshuang’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Rong Jingchen caught the shift in her expression and raised an eyebrow. “What are you plotting?”
“Secret.”
Xu Jingshuang smiled at him—a smile that looked utterly harmless.
Then, without warning, she reached out and pressed her palm against his chest.
Rong Jingchen didn’t move. In fact, he seemed rather at ease, as if curious to see what tricks she had left.
But the next second—
Xu Jingshuang shoved hard, and their positions flipped in an instant. Rong Jingchen fell back into the soft bedding without resistance.
Xu Jingshuang swung her leg over and sat up, her long hair cascading from her shoulders and draping down her sides.
She tilted her head slightly, looking down at him from above. Finally regaining some control, her mood improved considerably.
“Mr. Rong,” she curved her lips. “Who has the upper hand now?”
Rong Jingchen leaned back against the headboard, showing not a trace of panic at being pinned beneath her. Instead, he looked at her and smiled.
“As long as Mrs. Rong is happy.” His tone was like coaxing a child.
Xu Jingshuang’s mood soured instantly. What did he mean, “as long as she was happy”? As if he were humoring her.
She let out a light huff, then leaned down, bringing her face close. Her fingertip landed on the collar of his pajamas and traced along it slowly.
Rong Jingchen’s gaze flickered.
Xu Jingshuang caught it immediately.
Her spirits lifted.
Oh?
So he wasn’t completely unaffected after all.
She deliberately slowed her movements, eyes curving into crescents. “President Rong is always so proper and serious. Who would’ve thought… you’ve got a pretty good figure.”
Rong Jingchen’s eyes darkened.
“Xu Jingshuang.”
“Hm?”
“Don’t play with fire.”
Xu Jingshuang laughed. Finally, she’d found her opening. She leaned in closer, bringing her mouth to his ear, warm breath brushing past it. Her voice dropped deliberately, laced with a hint of triumph:
“Brother~”
Completely unaware of the danger, she continued in a soft, sweet voice: “So mean, always picking on people…”
She finished by extending her index finger and tapping lightly against his chest. Then she lifted her gaze, smiling at him with sparkling eyes. Like a little fox that had successfully gotten its revenge, finally vindicated.
Wasn’t this just teasing?
Anyone could do that. For Xu Jingshuang, it came as naturally as breathing!
During those two years studying abroad, she’d had a line of suitors. She’d seen every romantic trick in the book. She’d never been in a relationship, but she’d seen plenty of them. Flirting didn’t require practical experience—talent was enough.
Rong Jingchen looked at the woman on top of him.
She was sitting on his waist, the hem of her white nightgown bunched at her thighs, revealing a stretch of luminous, pale skin. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, a few loose strands falling forward. Those peach-blossom eyes were half-lidded, the corners tilted slightly upward, carrying an unconscious allure.
Did this woman know what she was doing?
She was sitting on him. Right there.
Her thighs pressed against his waist, the thin fabric of her nightgown the only barrier between them. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the cloth. Soft. Warm.
But he didn’t move, letting her have her way. He spoke in a low voice: “Continue.”