A Sweeter Reunion

Her Cheeks Burn Even Hotter

As soon as the door clicked shut, Cheng You’an yanked her hand free and glared at him, her face hot with shame and fury. “Jiang Ping, you’ve gone way too far!”

“Too far?” Jiang Ping arched an eyebrow and stepped closer. “Who was it that promised me I could feel her t**s and rub her cunt as long as I finished the test paper?”

The crude words scorched Cheng You’an’s ears. Her cheeks flaming, she argued, “But you only did the multiple-choice questions, and for the essay you just wrote the title. The whole paper barely scraped thirty points—”

Jiang Ping cut her off, impatience etched across his face. “You said ‘do the paper.’ You never said anything about marks. This morning was a warning. Try to con me again, and I won’t answer for what I’ll do.”

Cheng You’an was stunned by his sheer gall. She had never met anyone so shameless, and for a moment no words came to push back.

Seeing her frustration only improved his mood. He tilted his chin up. “Upstairs.”

Cheng You’an stiffened. “What for?”

A nasty grin spread over his face. “To make good on your promise, obviously.”

She had zero desire to go into that room with him, but what had just happened still left her shaken. He was the sort who never thought about consequences—truly capable of anything.

Jiang Ping opened the door. After a beat of hesitation, she dragged her feet inside. He followed, kicked the door shut with a backward swing of his foot, and it closed with a soft, heavy thud.

The small world sealed itself off. Cheng You’an stood beneath a full wall of models, the tall silhouette behind her bearing down until the air seemed to thin, her chest pinned so tightly it was hard to breathe.

“Want to taste yourself?”

Taste what?

The thought had barely surfaced when an arm circled her from behind. A pale, long-fingered hand drifted into view—the kind of exquisite hand she rarely saw in real life.

That hand, so clearly meant to hold a pen, suddenly brushed her lips. The touch was cool, almost tender, but she wasn’t fooled. She wanted to tell him to move it away, but the moment she opened her mouth he seized his chance, his index finger slipping past her teeth and pressing inside.

Cheng You’an tasted something metallic and sweet.

Jiang Ping’s voice whispered against her ear, a soft laugh. “This mouth up here is just as warm as the one down below.”

It was the same hand he’d used to touch her earlier.

The realization detonated, and she struggled violently. His other hand clamped her jaw, his chest pressed against her back, his arm locking her upper body. The brutal difference in strength left her helpless.

Jiang Ping stirred his finger inside her mouth, toying with her damp, pliant little tongue. She really was soft everywhere—soft in her cunt, soft in her little mouth. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Lick it.”

Shame burned her cheeks crimson. She tried desperately to dodge his finger.

The more her tongue pushed back, the deeper he pressed.

Her mouth couldn’t close; saliva pooled. She swallowed with difficulty, her tongue pressing against her palate, her throat constricting. It was as if that little mouth was sucking his finger, and a tingling pleasure raced across Jiang Ping’s scalp. His crotch, already bulging, now strained outright against his trousers.

What a nasty little slut, he cursed inwardly.

He pulled his hand out. Before Cheng You’an could even gasp, he pinned her against the door. The same finger that had been probing her tongue now rested on the top button of her blouse.

She was wearing a white shirt today, the hem tucked into the waistband of her skirt. The tailored cut hugged her slim waist, and the gentle swell of her breasts rose beneath the fabric. Paired with the plaid skirt, she looked pure and sweet.

The blouse had nine buttons. By the time Jiang Ping undid the third, the collar gaped open to reveal a white bra. Looking down, he could see the tight cleft of her cleavage. Lust surged hot in his eyes. His patience snapped; he grabbed both sides and yanked outward, sending the remaining buttons flying.

“My blouse—” Cheng You’an was incensed by his roughness.

Jiang Ping met her accusing stare with indifference. “I’ll buy you another one later.”

“Who wants you to buy one!” She was fuming.

He was in no mood to bicker. His gaze dropped. The blouse fell open, revealing a cloud-white maiden bra. The full-cup style cradled her entire breasts with a lovely curve, though visually it made her chest look smaller and slimmer.

Jiang Ping cupped her through the bra and squeezed. Her t**s were soft and springy. His tongue swept over his teeth. “I thought you were flat as an ironing board.” She’d looked so slender in her clothes.

The summer fabric was thin. The second he pressed close, heat from his palm seeped right through, scorching her tender, fragile skin. Cheng You’an’s awareness had been stolen away, but his taunt yanked her back. Indignantly, she fired back, “You’re the flat one!”

Jiang Ping kneaded both breasts in opposite circles, relishing a softness so different from a man’s. Pleased, he echoed, “Fine, fine, I’m the flat one.”

Men didn’t have breasts anyway, just pectoral muscles at most. Sensing his dismissiveness, Cheng You’an grew even angrier.

But her anger didn’t last two seconds. Under that repetitive, circling knead, sensation began to build. Her breathing slowed, yet soft little gasps still escaped.

Her reaction didn’t escape his notice. He slid both hands around to her back, found the clasp, and started to undo it.

Cheng You’an sensed his intent. The toes peeking out of her sandals curled slightly, a flicker of unease.

His body was flush against hers, his hot breath sweeping over the hollow of her shoulder with a ticklish prickle. She couldn’t help shrinking her shoulder. Jiang Ping snapped, “Stop moving.”

Cheng You’an immediately stilled her shoulders, then grew annoyed at her own obedience. But almost a full minute passed, and the bra still clung to her breasts. She could feel his fumbling turn into frustrated twisting and tugging. Unlike the blouse, this wasn’t something brute force could open.

Her tension gradually ebbed, and she even began to drift. Why is he so slow? The clasp can’t be that hard, can it? She prayed silently that he would give up.

“You undo it.”

Jiang Ping pulled back, irritation and a trace of defeat on his face, his eyes half-lidded and fixed on her.

Cheng You’an pressed her lips together, reached behind her back, and unhooked the three clasps. The cups loosened slightly, and she immediately grabbed the straps, trying to bargain. “Can we just not?”

Jiang Ping seized her hands hidden behind her back. A wicked grin curved his lips. His reply was short and brutal: “No.”

As the word fell, he pulled her hands forward along with the loosened straps. Her breasts, suddenly unsupported, dipped slightly. The cups fell away, and her n*****s, exposed to the air, trembled faintly.

Jiang Ping’s gaze turned scorching. He covered an entire breast with his palm, the feel so exquisite it pulled a soft sigh from him.

Her breasts weren’t large, but they were incredibly soft—silkier than a creamy pudding. When he tightened his fingers, the flesh spilled between them. A little pressure left faint red marks, provocative and utterly pleasing to the eye.

With his blood running hot, he lost his restraint. Cheng You’an frowned. “Be gentler.”

Jiang Ping lifted his brow. “Does it hurt?”

The question was asked with genuine attention, and Cheng You’an hesitated. It wasn’t just that. There was something else, something she couldn’t quite name, all mixing together into a blend of pain and pleasure.

But how could she possibly tell him that? Her cheeks burned even hotter.

Jiang Ping had no patience for her dithering. He lowered his head toward her breast. “Let me blow on it.”

Blow on it?

A breath, faintly warm, brushed her n****e, yet it also carried a strange coolness. It felt so odd that Cheng You’an pressed against his shoulder to push him away, only to find she couldn’t budge him.

Jiang Ping stared hard at her pink, slightly dry n****e, and then, without warning, took it into his mouth. Startled, Cheng You’an let out a small, helpless gasp.