Chapter 127: Kiss
Fierce, burning.
She kissed him, as hungry as a bloodthirsty wolf, viciously biting the boy’s thin lips, refusing to let go. A faint, metallic taste of blood spread in her mouth.
Gentle, soft.
She began to feel afraid again, worried that she would hurt him. She forced herself to hold back the urge to tear him apart and devour him, to completely knead him into her flesh and blood. Her movements became gentle and slow, her bright red lips pressed against his. Her tongue invaded, their teeth clashing, a lingering, passionate kiss, like a feather lightly brushing against his lips, a tickling sensation that reached deep into her heart.
She had never kissed anyone so deeply before. Like a child learning to speak, she repeated the memories based on her shallow experience and impressions, her movements slow and clumsy.
The force she applied to his lips and teeth was sometimes heavy, sometimes light. He also craved oxygen, his lips and teeth moving, responding to her in his sleep. They were like two entwined vipers, their breaths intertwined. Their body heat soared, as if they were about to melt into a puddle of mud, completely merging with each other’s flesh and blood, leaving no gap.
She was running out of breath, but she was unwilling to let go of such softness. It was like a soft marshmallow, with a hint of sweetness seeping into her heart, making her unable to resist indulging in it, unable to muster a single ounce of strength to resist such a temptation. His soft, moist lips stimulated her nerves, an indescribable feeling rampaging through her body. Her eyes became more and more hazy, and she was still unwilling to let go…
She hugged him tightly. The lack of oxygen made her consciousness gradually blur, her limbs weak. But her love and desire were surging even more, controlling her hot body to continue its crazy actions. Her hand, as if possessed, climbed onto the boy’s high nose… and pressed down hard. She knew what the consequences would be… she knew…
Death.
Living is so painful.
Let’s die together, Ah Yu…
The terrifying thought lingered in her mind for a moment. The boy was the first to be unable to bear the pain of oxygen deprivation and suddenly turned his head away. He curled up and coughed violently. She stared at his alluring eyebrows, which were deeply furrowed. A deep sense of self-blame instantly filled her heart. She felt that she must be crazy, crazy.
I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry.
Xia Qian Ge apologized in a panic, but she received no forgiveness from the boy. The sound of his struggling coughs gradually subsided. He was still in a deep sleep, his long, neat eyelashes casting a fan-shaped shadow in the dim light. His gradually deepening breaths became the only sound in the darkness. The boy seemed to have been greatly aroused by her, as if he were having a spring-like dream. Hormones were raging, and his desire was high.
She lowered her eyes in a daze, her hand sliding down his hair to the end, pulling off the hair tie. A thick mass of dark hair spread out over her fair, smooth shoulders. Her bright red lips made her skin look as white as snow, like a bright red rose blooming in the vast, icy polar regions, desolate and alluring.
I’m sorry… she was still stubbornly apologizing.
Her features were gentle, with the unique tenderness and charm of a girl from a southern water town. Her eyebrows were furrowed, a faint sickness lingering between them. Her eyes shimmered with a fine, watery light. She had applied heavy eyeshadow, and the corners of her eyes were slightly upturned in a gentle curve, making her look both fragile and beautiful.
She didn’t know why she had had such a terrifying thought at that moment. Even now, the memory of it made her afraid. Love and desire were intertwined, and she was gradually unable to distinguish which was dominating her mind, love or lust.
This hesitation terrified her. That deep, bone-chilling love had in the end become a murky, yellow pool of desire, negating the meaning of her life. Her ten-plus years of life had been nothing but an empty suffering. It would have been better to end it sooner.
Struggling in the vortex of love and lust, she gradually lost sight of her own heart. She felt incredibly strange, as if she had never known herself. She was like someone in a painting she had never seen before, surrounded by unknown shadows, strangely terrifying.
But her body was still burning hot, the wet, sticky heat between her legs grinding at her. She hated this side of herself, like an animal dominated by desire, without a shred of reason, easily sinking into such a fiery desire, with no room to struggle. Knowing the danger of a moth flying into a flame, she was still obsessed with this kind of love, like a hopeless addict, falling into a field of poppies, indulging in depravity.
Death would be a fitting end!
So disgusting… she thought to herself.
She propped herself up with her hands on the edge of the bed and leaned down, her hot lips once again touching his body. They slid down his neck, over his delicate, white collarbone, leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses, occasionally sucking and licking, making red flowers bloom on his snow-white skin.
But she couldn’t break free from the shackles. Death was the only escape.
…
After a long time of tenderness, the desire was still blocked in her body, rampaging, like a violent flood washing over a closed dam. The unreleased pressure instantly shattered the bridge of reason. She wanted to moan in discomfort, as if she had fallen on a muddy road on a rainy day, wet and sticky, her skin rubbing against itself, creating a burning heat.
Her breath was hot, the sound of water whimpering.
She touched the wet sheet beneath her, her fingertips immediately becoming sticky. The mucus on the hot, wet floor was viscous, her two fingers sticking together and then separating, pulling out a thin, silvery thread.
In a daze, she seemed to have found the answer. All her desires suddenly rushed towards the glowing exit. Her body trembled. She accidentally knocked over the bottle of wine on the floor.
The mellow wine immediately spilled out from the bottle, spreading across the smooth floor, flowing over her small, white feet. The high-proof liquor was potent. It kissed her delicate, smooth skin, then seeped into her pores and into her body.
The burning sensation brought by the potent wine, a wave of heat spread through her body with her blood, occupying every inch of her senses, turning into a rushing red tide on her cheeks. She covered her burning skin, a deep intoxication in her eyes. Her reason blurred, and desire… was on the verge of erupting.
Xia Qian Ge stood up, the sticky wine dripping down her smooth thighs. She slowly climbed onto the bed. The small pink bag fell silently into the puddle of wine on the floor, the liquid seeping in through the torn opening.
