Ambiguous
1140 Words
Wen Nuan felt tears streaming down her face. She had always been clever, but at that moment, she deeply realized something: she and Ye Feimo clearly operated on different intellectual levels, leading to a fundamental disconnect in their communication.
It was like they were speaking different languages, utterly mismatched.
Was she too foolish, or was he just too bizarre? Wen Nuan pondered this seriously.
"Do you think we're talking about the same thing?" Wen Nuan tried to maintain her composure while speaking with him. She was sure she was calm, but she couldn't be certain about his state of mind, as he looked at her with a fiery intensity that made her feel as though he wanted to devour her.
A sense of crisis began to take root in her.
"Don't you think so?"
With just a few words, she was almost certain of one thing:
Ye Feimo was very dominant.
Ye Feimo was very cunning.
Ye Feimo was very peculiar.
Ye Feimo was very intelligent.
This was Wen Nuan's first impression of Ye Feimo outside of their intimate encounter, and many years later, this assessment would be proven true.
"By the way, what’s your name?"
Wen Nuan, “…”
Has there ever been a man who, after being intimate with a woman and then suggesting she become his woman, asked her in a casual tone, “What’s your name?”
Have you seen it? Have you? Ye Feimo was definitely the first in history.
“Wen Nuan.”
Ye Feimo remained unfazed, his long arm reaching out to pull her into his embrace. With a swift motion, he had her pressed against the sofa, claiming her lips.
His heated kiss invaded every inch of her mouth, and Wen Nuan found herself defenseless against his forceful advance.
Wrapped in Ye Feimo’s bathrobe, she felt the fabric loosen as he tugged, her body inexplicably warming up. The hazy yet clear memories of that night flooded back, and her rationality was reduced to mush.
Her body trembled with heat; his touch felt like fire, igniting every spot he caressed.
Last time, she had been drunk and dazed, but now she was acutely aware, every sensation focused on his passionate lips. Wen Nuan quaked, a rush of Wen Nuan gathering in her abdomen.
Ye Feimo gazed at her face, her innocence veiled in a layer of budding sensuality, her eyes glimmering seductively.
He knew very well that she was as pure as a blank slate.
The naivety of that night and the initial barriers that had existed were now crystal clear; he understood that he was her first man.
Ye Feimo played hard, but he had encountered virgins before.
However, he preferred mature women who knew how to please him rather than those who were clueless. The thought of toying with her faded instantly into a multitude of affections upon realizing she was a novice.
Yet in the end, he still lost control.
Yes, "losing control" was a term he despised. Ever since that incident, he had grown to hate such emotions.
Perhaps it was because of her face...
But Wen Nuan had no idea that his roughness stemmed primarily from the fact that she had cried out another man's name—Fang Liucheng—at the peak of their intimacy. The mere thought of a woman calling another man's name in his bed made Ye Feimo torment her in every way he could.
…
In these years, countless women had come and gone, but she was the first one who could pique his interest in bed.
His hands explored beneath her, probing into her depths. Startled, Wen Nuan bit her lip, suddenly recalling her initial intention of confronting him about why he used her as an advertisement.
What was she doing now?
She curled up, trying to evade Ye Feimo, but he firmly grasped her waist, his deep, dark gaze locked onto her pale, flustered face. Little did she know that this expression only fueled his desire to ravage her.
"Don't!" she gasped as his hand moved lower, her panic leading her to grab a nearby ashtray and hurl it at his head.
Ye Feimo twisted her wrist, causing her to wince in pain, and the ashtray clattered onto the carpet.
His fiery gaze remained cold as he scrutinized her.
She was embarrassed by her helplessness, while he appeared perfectly composed, igniting her shame and fury.
"Let me go, you jerk!"
He looked at her, his intentions clear—he wanted to take her against her will.
Fuming with anger, her eyes turned red. Suddenly, his grip loosened, and he leaned down, kissing her lips with tender urgency, making her shiver with surprise. Wen Nuan had never encountered a man like him—both bizarre and strong-willed, yet unpredictably volatile.
"Say my name," he commanded, his voice almost hypnotic in her ear.
Wen Nuan trembled at his touch, and Ye Feimo’s lips caressed her earlobe, intensifying her shivers.
"Call my name."
Knowing the precariousness of her situation, she realized that refusing him could lead to dire consequences. Thus, she complied; what was his name again? Oh right, Ye Feimo.
"Ye Feimo…"
"Feimo," he corrected her, his tone low and husky.
Wen Nuan was held tightly against him, so close she could almost bite into his shoulder.
Yet good women don’t fight back against bizarre men.
She endured.
Indeed, the situation was not in her favor.
"Feimo…" His name was pleasant, he was handsome, but his temperament was atrocious; the Ye family’s education must have issues.
"Lower your voice."
"Feimo…" she whispered softer.
"Even softer."
"Feimo!" Wen Nuan's voice was barely a whisper now.
"Softer still."
"…Feimo." She suddenly felt her voice was dripping with seduction.
Internally, Wen Nuan cursed the Ye family’s ancestors.
What kind of maniac did they raise? I am not some phone s*x operator, why should I have to say his name so provocatively and passionately? Who the hell birthed this maniac? Please, put him back and try again.
God, save me.
Wen Nuan felt like dying; held in such a revealing way while calling his name in such a sultry manner was simply unbearable.
"Say it again."
"Feimo!" she declared, deciding that if he dared to push her further, she would resist. Don’t underestimate a woman; she can revolt too.
Just as she thought this, she was pushed down, and Ye Feimo’s lips aggressively claimed hers.
Wen Nuan was momentarily stunned, her mind blank as he kissed her fiercely, scattering her hard-earned rationality to the winds.
His desire surged, rapid and urgent.
"Ah, it hurts…" he suddenly bit down lightly on her chest, landing precisely at the peak. The pressure wasn’t too much, but it caused her to tear up instantly.
A violent man, indeed—a violent man.
Damn!
May your entire family be violent too.
- Writer
