A Sweeter Reunion

Engaged

Clutching her clothes, Cheng You'an retreated step by step as he advanced. "What are you doing!"

She fought to keep her eyes steady, but her trembling voice betrayed her panic.

Her back pressed against the cold tiles, and his body followed, pinning her close—so close she could smell the faint trace of alcohol on him. She turned sideways, trying to slip through the gap between him and the wall, but he planted a hand against the tiles, blocking her escape.

Jiang Ping lifted a strand of her black hair from her shoulder and toyed with it between his fingers. "Little bookworm, want to give it a try?" He leaned in and inhaled its scent. It carried a faint trace of milk.

Cheng You'an snatched her hair back from his grasp, glaring at him warily. "Try what?"

Jiang Ping withdrew his hand, his gaze settling over her, his eyes darkening.

"Sex."

The moment the word left his mouth, he watched Cheng You'an's face bloom slowly pink, like plum blossom juice bleeding into fresh snow. It was amusing, adorable. He wanted to touch it.

His fingertips had just brushed her cheek when she slapped his hand away, mortified and furious. "Why is your mind always on this stuff?"

Jiang Ping arched a dark brow. "Cheng You'an, I'm eighteen. I'm an adult. Having desires is normal. And I have a fiancée—why the hell should I hold back?"

He wielded the engagement like a weapon, and her conviction faltered. "But you're still a student. Your job right now is to study."

Jiang Ping cupped her face again. The cool touch of his fingers made her turn her head aside, but he straightened it back, his tone utterly insufferable. "Studying and f*****g aren't mutually exclusive. If you want, we can do both—you teach me vocabulary and formulas while I'm inside you. I'll accommodate you either way."

Cheng You'an had never met anyone so shameless. She wanted to curse.

She'd just opened her mouth when the fingers on her face stroked over her lips and thrust straight inside, pressing down on her tongue and churning against it.

"Y-you—" She couldn't form words.

Jiang Ping took the clothes from her arms and set them on the shelf above her head. His thumb pressed her jaw open while his fingers hooked her small tongue, swirling.

The foreign intrusion inside her mouth was intense, and when she felt him probing toward the back of her throat, she struggled fiercely. He stopped just at the base of her tongue, stirring rhythmically.

"You've been wearing wet panties all evening. That can't be comfortable. Let's take them off." His hand slid up her thigh, fingers catching the edge of her underwear and tugging downward.

Cheng You'an frantically pressed down on his hand. "Mmph... no..."

He added another finger into her mouth. Cheng You'an instinctively closed her lips around them, her soft petals of flesh sheathing his fingers in wet, searing heat, as though soaking in a hot spring.

Jiang Ping's gaze darkened. He began pumping his fingers in and out of her mouth, mimicking the thrust of a c**k.

As his fingers scraped over her tongue and pressed deep, a wave of nausea rose. Cheng You'an released her hold to grab his wrist instead, but the fingers hooked in her panties gave a sharp tug, and the fabric slid from her waist down to her thighs.

His fingers found the tight seam of her p***y lips and pressed inside, fingertips meeting slick, slippery wetness.

His thin lips curved into a wicked smile. "You're wet again. Take your clothes off. I'll help you get clean."

He pulled his fingers from her mouth, a long thread of silver saliva trailing behind them.

Cheng You'an slumped against the tiles, back arched, gasping for air. For a moment, she'd thought she might suffocate.

Jiang Ping reached around to her back, found the zipper of her skirt, and pulled it down with a sharp hiss. By the time she registered it, the skirt was already loose, sliding from her waist to pool around her ankles.

She tried to stop him, but he had already seized both her arms and pulled her top straight off.

"J-Jiang Ping, you can't do this to me—"

He tilted his head, looking at her with something like genuine puzzlement. "We're engaged. Isn't this completely normal?"

Engaged. That single word was an invisible shackle, and Cheng You'an found herself bound by it. She had no strength to argue, watching helplessly as he moved behind her to undo her bra clasp.

This time Jiang Ping took a moment to study the mechanism, then succeeded in unhooking it. Two small, adorable breasts sprang free, their trembling pink tips begging to be cherished.

Jiang Ping covered one breast with his hand, kneading and squeezing, savoring the exquisite feel of it. His voice was unhurried. "What are you so afraid of? With the engagement in place, are you scared I won't take responsibility?"

Under the friction of his palm, her n****e slowly stiffened and flushed, growing so sensitive she could feel every line of his skin scraping across it. Her neck and back went taut, her chin tilting up as she fought against the strange transformation overtaking her body.

She wasn't afraid he wouldn't take responsibility. She was afraid he would. This marriage was something she didn't want.

But who knew, with his brain flooded with lust, which of his words were true and which were lies.

"In front of your classmates, y-you said I was a distant relative... mm..."

"I just couldn't be bothered to explain. They're all terrible gossips." He ducked his head and took her other n****e into his mouth, offering her that answer.

Cheng You'an didn't believe him. Her n****e was caught by his deft tongue—licked, then rolled—and sensation stole every thought from her mind. She forgot entirely what she'd meant to say. Her hands braced against his chest, her small face drawn tight, lips parted in panting breaths. "Mm-hah... no more..."

Jiang Ping circled her waist, denying her escape, and suckled at her breast, kissing and biting with shameless, audible sounds. Cheng You'an was certain he was doing it on purpose.

Yet her body, under his hands and mouth, was steadily slipping from her control. The instinct to moan and cry out rose up inside her. She lifted her arms, wrapped them around his head, and pressed him tightly against her chest, tilting her neck back to let out a soft, keening moan.

Listening to her breathless little cries, the blood rushed to Jiang Ping's head and straight to his groin. His loose pants bulged obscenely. Unable to bear it, he glanced at the bathtub, now two-thirds full, then hooked his hands under her armpits, lifted her, and set her down in the water. He stripped himself bare with quick efficiency and stepped in after her.

The water was slightly cool, subduing the heat that had engulfed her body. The feverish tide inside her receded, and Cheng You'an immediately tried to scramble out. But his entry had already sent water spilling over the rim; in her panic, she lost her footing and pitched forward. Just as she was about to crash to the floor, a force from behind yanked her back. Her bare back collided with a solid, muscled chest.

She froze for a beat and tried to flee again, but he pulled her down onto his lap. A thick, rigid shaft surged up through the cleft of her round ass, pressing against her tender core. She instantly went motionless, not daring to move a muscle.

Jiang Ping wrapped his arms around her from behind, his lips and tongue lingering on the soft hollow of her neck. "Why are you running? I just want to give you a proper bath."

Cheng You'an was still in shock. "I can wash myself."

He spread his knees apart, forcing the legs draped over his thighs to open as well. Jiang Ping caught her fingers and guided them beneath the water. Her fingertips met her own c**t. He made her rub it, his hand directing hers.

"Like this?"

Cheng You'an's eyes flew wide. She tried to pull free, but he held her firmly in place. Her c**t, already sensitized from his attentions on the bus, responded quickly, even to her own touch. It was as though she were m**********g right in front of him.

She shook her head desperately. "Jiang Ping, let go... mm... mm... ah..."

After just a few strokes, pleasure pulsed relentlessly through her nerves. Her taut body gradually softened, her resistance melting away.

Jiang Ping released her waist and moved his hand up to knead her breast. "Isn't washing this way so much nicer?"

Cheng You'an couldn't answer him even if she tried. The moment she opened her lips, only soft, panting moans escaped.