A Sweeter Reunion

More, Deeper Thrills

Knowing how thin-skinned she was, Jiang Ping expected no answer. He increased the pressure of his fingers. Before long, her body gave a quiver, her little p***y clenching softly, even seeming to suck faintly at his fingers.

Lust pooled in his eyes. The hand that had been toying with her breast wandered back to her waist. He gripped her and lifted, her slightly parted cunt sliding up the length of his rigid c**k. That soft, slick flesh licked against him like a tongue. Not just Jiang Ping—even Cheng You’an felt the tremor in her very core.

He pressed her down onto him again, his c**k grinding against her entrance while he guided her own fingers in relentless circles over her c**t. This twin assault of sensation drowned what little reason she had left. She let her head fall back against his shoulder, instinctively spreading her thighs wider, her gaping slit mouthing at his shaft, craving more contact, more stimulation.

Using the water’s buoyancy, Jiang Ping rubbed his c**k ceaselessly against her p***y, the pleasure from tip to base so exquisite that every pore on his body seemed to open. Her broken, uneven moans filled his ears, and more than once he nearly drove himself inside.

Her cunt felt both unbearably good and maddeningly itchy, the itch burrowing deeper, as if worming its way out from the marrow of her bones.

Cheng You’an’s other hand clutched at his thigh. Unable to resist, she started grinding against his c**k of her own accord.

Her entrance kept clenching and releasing around his length. Jiang Ping let out a soft, ragged breath. His thrusts grew faster, the circles he rubbed over her c**t widening. So overwhelmed was she that she nearly bucked upright, but he held her pinned tight against his chest.

A spasm started at the crown of her p***y and swiftly spread through her entire body. Soon she was trembling all over.

Sharp, piercing pleasure coiled deep in her cunt. She was on the verge of breaking.

She sobbed and begged, “No more, no more, I can’t take it…”

What Cheng You’an didn’t know was that the more she pleaded, the more it aroused him.

His c**k, swollen and throbbing painfully in the water, ached with the desperate need to shove into that slit.

The bathwater had sloshed out in great waves. Jiang Ping turned her around to face him, pinned her thighs apart, and thrust his c**k hard between them, right through the core of her legs.

The head tunneled through the soft flesh of her thighs, scraping repeatedly against that now flushed and swollen slit. Her labia pulsed, hypersensitive from the relentless friction.

With no support, Cheng You’an frantically gripped the edges of the tub, gasping and crying out. Jiang Ping paid no heed, focused solely on his thrusting. Under the relentless prodding of his tip, her entire body went rigid. Her p***y convulsed sharply, and a gush of her slick spurted out, dissolving into the water.

Her eyes went wide and blank, her cunt still fluttering. As her flesh milked his tip, Jiang Ping let out a harsh groan, his slit flaring open as he came, a thread of milky white dispersing into the water.

He gripped her thighs, panting heavily, a bead of sweat dripping from the tip of his nose onto the water’s surface, blooming like a tiny flower.

When Cheng You’an came back to her senses, she tried to rise from the tub, but her limbs were so weak she couldn’t even stand, let alone muster the strength to grip the edge.

The water was filthy now; bathing further was impossible. Jiang Ping lifted her from the tub and set her on the floor, hooking a small stool over with the top of his foot and guiding her down onto it.

He picked up the showerhead and began washing her from the back. Cheng You’an tensed, suspecting he had more in mind, but he simply bathed her with unexpected earnestness—though she still couldn’t relax.

His voice was hoarse, laced with a post-orgasmic contentment. “Don’t be nervous. Without your consent, I won’t really do anything to you.”

Cheng You’an’s mind was still a mess. Hearing this, she let out a bitter laugh. As if what he’d already done counted as nothing.

Just then, he leaned in close, his scorching breath fanning over the soft, pale shell of her ear. “Let’s make a trade. You have s*x with me, and I’ll do whatever you say when it comes to studying.”

Sex? Dream on! Cheng You’an blow-dried her damp hair, positively seething.

Yet that night, she dreamed. In the dream, Jiang Ping’s dark eyes blazed with pure aggression. He pinned her calves apart into an obscene M-shape, the head of his c**k pressed against her entrance.

“There’s nothing I want that I can’t have.” With a powerful thrust of his hips, he drove his entire length into her, giving her no time to breathe as he began pumping relentlessly.

The force nearly sent her flying, but he dragged her back. Pain and pleasure collided; the moment she opened her mouth, only shattered moans emerged.

She was a small boat tossed on towering waves, endlessly lifted and dropped, her vision filled with his broad, lowered shoulders, his grunts of satisfaction in her ears. She became someone else, moving from resistance to surrender, then to utter abandon.

Cheng You’an jolted awake. Overhead was a pristine white ceiling, not his sweat-sheened chest. She exhaled in relief and sat up—only to feel an unmistakable dampness between her legs. Realization struck, and her face flamed crimson.

She hadn’t just had a wet dream; she was actually wet. It was all Jiang Ping’s fault, that bastard!

A glance at the clock told her it was already seven; normally she was up at six reciting vocabulary. She rushed to wash up, and, more importantly, to change out of those uncomfortably damp panties.

When she returned to her room, her phone vibrated on the desk. It was her grandfather.

“Yoyo, what did you want to talk to Grandpa about last night?” Her grandfather spoke amid occasional remarks to others, birdsong filling the background. Cheng You’an knew he had headed to the bird-and-flower market first thing in the morning.

Hesitating, she asked, “Grandpa, could I… not go through with this engagement?”

“Are the Jiangs mistreating you?” Grandpa Cheng’s voice instantly turned stern.

Cheng You’an hurriedly said, “No, no, Uncle Jiang and Aunt Shao are both very good to me.”

“Then it’s that Jiang boy bullying you?”

An image of him pinning her legs and thrusting forcefully flashed through her mind; she shook her head to dispel it. How could she possibly tell her grandfather about that kind of bullying? She answered hesitantly, “Not really, either.”

Grandpa Cheng immediately relaxed. “That’s fine then. Yoyo, Grandpa knows this is hard for you, but our Cheng family prizes its word above all. A promise once made cannot be taken back, not unless there is a truly valid reason. Otherwise, how could I face my departed comrade?”

Cheng You’an’s thoughts scattered at her grandfather’s earnest words. She slumped over her desk, her mind blank, her heart empty. Was there truly no way out? Ah, just take it one step at a time.

For the next few days, to avoid running into a certain someone who seemed perpetually in heat, Cheng You’an shut herself in her room under the pretext of doing practice problems, until the day before school started.

Her WeChat pinged. [Jiang Ping: Worksheets are at your door.]

Only then did Cheng You’an remember the ten physics worksheets he owed her from last time.

Assuming he’d left them on the floor like she would have, she opened the door and crouched down to pick them up—only to be greeted first by a pair of long legs.

Startled, she looked up and met Jiang Ping’s mocking gaze. He gave the worksheets a little shake. “If it weren’t for these, how much longer were you planning to hide from me?”

As always, his bluntness struck right at the heart. Cheng You’an averted her eyes guiltily. “You’re overthinking it.”

Jiang Ping didn’t argue. He stuffed the worksheets into her arms, hands in his pockets, and looked down at her. With her head bowed, all he could see was the delicate whorl of her hair.

His lips parted slightly. “Cheng You’an.”

She waited, but no continuation came. When she lifted her head, before she could even read his expression, he had already turned and walked away.

She found it baffling, then shut the door and looked at the worksheets.

Jiang Ping leaned against the hallway railing, his gaze fixed on her door. He had been about to say, If you really find this so difficult, let’s just call off the engagement. But the moment he saw her, his proud, youthful pride reared its head. Was he, Jiang Ping, really worth so little in her eyes?

He let out a soft, derisive laugh.