A Sweeter Reunion

Spread Your Legs

His hot, wet tongue circled her n****e, slicking it until, like a parched flower revived by water, it swelled instantly—plump, tender, and unbearably sensitive.

The faint, rough drag of his taste buds sent a numbing, electric shiver through her, and Cheng You’an began to pant softly. As he licked and sucked, a stifled whimper escaped her nose: “Don’t… don’t do that… it tickles…”

Jiang Ping lifted his head from her chest. “Where does it tickle? Your t**s itch?”

He had no enthusiasm for studying, yet in matters like this, his thirst for knowledge was insatiable.

Cheng You’an couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. She turned her face away, and a strand of hair slipped from behind her ear, tumbled over her shoulder, and swayed across her chest as she let out a soft “mm.”

After half a month together, Jiang Ping had grown to dislike her honesty—it felt like an iron bar bluntly stabbing your heart. But right now, he appreciated her candor, even if his c**k was aching, swollen tight with the need she provoked.

“Then bear the tickle.”

He buried his face in her chest and took her whole areola into his mouth, teeth nibbling the tender flesh while his tongue ground against her n****e, drawing it in and tugging at it again and again.

Cheng You’an felt a sting of grievance, yet she knew this was simply his nature—the worse she felt, the more he got off on it.

The prickling itch came in waves, denser and denser, until a hollow ache began to echo deep inside her cunt. For a moment she couldn’t tell which itched more fiercely—her n*****s or her cunt.

Her legs, slightly parted, couldn’t help but press together, trying to quell that unquenchable need, but it was useless. Her delicate pink lips parted as she moaned in unbearable desperation.

She mewled like a cat, the sound scraping at his heart until it went numb. Jiang Ping released the breast flesh from his mouth and straightened up. He slipped a hand beneath her skirt, used a little force to part her clenched thighs, and reached between them—slick with wetness.

His breath turned hot. “You were dripping that much during dinner, and now you’re this wet again. Are you made of water? No wonder you’re such a slut.”

Cheng You’an’s face flooded crimson. She wanted to protest, to tell him not to talk nonsense, but his fingers pressed against her panties and sank into the slit of her cunt, rubbing.

“Mmh… ah…” The moment she opened her mouth, it dissolved into a breathy moan.

His other hand cupped her left tit, fingertips grazing her n****e, and her entire body quivered.

Under the dual assault, Cheng You’an’s head dropped helplessly against his chest. She arched her back, trying to flee his teasing, but her body instinctively chased his fingers—her chest thrusting toward his hand, her cunt clenching, spilling a gush of slick.

As she writhed in his arms, Jiang Ping’s blood surged hot and his voice roughened: “Does it feel good?”

A moan leaked from Cheng You’an’s throat. Her mind was swollen and dazed, and her hands, once pushing him away, unconsciously shifted to clinging onto his arm.

He asked again, “Does it feel good or not?”

Cheng You’an’s eyes were misty, the corners wet with involuntary tears, making her look pitifully fragile. And that very vulnerability only ignited a deeper cruelty in him, the primal urge to dominate.

He delivered a light slap to her cunt. “Spread your legs.”

The slap made her cunt leak another trickle, the itch inside intensifying. Sniffling, Cheng You’an parted her legs in aching surrender.

Her obedience pleased Jiang Ping. He pressed his whole palm over her mound, separating her slick labia, and traced upward along the slit until he easily found her swollen c**t. He pressed the pad of his finger against it and began to grind.

Her panties were soaked through, the cotton fabric rougher than bare fingertips, magnifying every stroke. Cheng You’an couldn’t help crossing her legs, but he forced them apart again, and a sharp, piercing bolt of pleasure shot straight to her brain.

Jiang Ping felt her cunt sucking at his finger as if trying to swallow it whole. He hooked inward and thrust a few times; her labia clenched violently.

“Ah—” Cheng You’an cried out in a short, sharp burst. A spurt of her juices sprayed onto his hand.

Her legs gave way. Bracing herself against the door with the last of her strength, she slid down, nearly collapsing. Jiang Ping caught her with an outstretched arm, lifting her like a hawk snatching a chick, and set her on the desk while his other hand swept everything aside.

Having her feet dangling left her deeply unsettled. She pushed against the desk to climb down, but Jiang Ping trapped her between himself and the table.

“Running away?”

“I want to go back to my room.”

Jiang Ping’s eyes narrowed. “You got your pleasure, and now you want to grab your skirt and run?”

Cheng You’an gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles whitening. Her mind was much clearer now, and recalling everything he’d just done to her made her hair stand on end. Her tone sharpened: “I’m not running. I did what I promised you. What more do you want?”

Jiang Ping had just undone his belt. At her words, his gaze turned icy and his speech crudely cutting: “Stop playing the chaste martyr in front of me. Who was moaning like a slut just now?”

Cheng You’an had always been the child other parents praised—sensible, clever, well-behaved. She had never imagined being branded with such vile words. But the lingering slick still seeping from her cunt seemed to testify against her, and a ring of red bloomed around her eyes.

Seeing her on the verge of tears, Jiang Ping felt a flicker of panic. “Hey, it was just a few words, and you’re about to cry? Your skin is way too thin.”

Once again it became her fault. Cheng You’an glared at him furiously.

But her doe eyes, misted with tears, were round and pure, utterly without menace—they only stirred the desire burning inside him.

His throat tightened. “I helped you just now. Now you help me. Once it’s done, I’ll let you go.”

“No.” She turned her head away, refusing flatly.

Jiang Ping laughed in exasperation. When she didn’t owe him anything, she was certainly tough.

But their relationship had been built from the start on fair trade; he truly couldn’t force her. So he played the fiancé card: “Don’t forget, we have an engagement. It’s your duty to help me relieve myself.”

She knew it—he could always find an excuse to coerce her. The thought of breaking off the engagement surfaced again. She would have to find a chance to tell her family, sooner or later.

“Take care of it yourself.”

“Before I knew you, I handled it myself. Now that you’re here, why should I keep putting up with that?”

His matter-of-fact tone made even the mild-tempered Cheng You’an want to hurl a book at him.

Seeing her unmoved and his c**k aching so badly it hurt, Jiang Ping dangled bait: “How about this—I’ll do another practice test, and you let me rub my c**k against your cunt until I come.”

Cheng You’an’s ears perked up; she was actually a little tempted.

He was lazy and detested studying. Getting him to do a test under normal circumstances was harder than reaching the heavens. But without tests, how could she assess his level? Without drilling, how could his grades improve? That was the reason she’d agreed to his outrageous request last time.

“One test isn’t enough. I want you to do an entire subject’s summer workbook.”

Jiang Ping hadn’t expected her to bargain. His mind was clouded with lust, and he agreed readily: “Fine.”

He moved to lift her skirt, but she dodged him. Her face flushed as she said hastily, “I haven’t finished. I’ll only use my hand.” She glanced up at him, then quickly looked away. “If you don’t agree, forget it.”

Jiang Ping ground his teeth. “Fine.” If her moaning earlier hadn’t kept his c**k so unbearably hard, he would never have agreed to such terms.

He yanked down his zipper and pulled his already swollen c**k from his boxers. The glans was engorged, huge and purplish-red, veins winding around the thick shaft. It looked terrifying.

This wasn’t the first time Cheng You’an had seen it. Last time, to make him memorize a math formula, he had grabbed her hand and made her touch it. Though it had only been a few seconds, the sensation—soft yet springy, brimming with latent power—still made her shudder.