Chapter 26 Frenzy
Song Xu was in a bad mood today, and several times made Wen Bairan want to beg him to stop from the pain.
With tears welling in her eyes, she turned her face toward him. "Song Xu..."
Her voice was muffled, the words incoherent; he only heard his name.
Sensing her tensing up, trying to escape, he pulled her hard. The pain radiating from her hair roots, searing through her entire scalp.
The night was dark around her. The unfamiliar movements left her uneasy, unsure whether it was really him behind her. She wanted to confirm.
He cupped her chin, lifting it, and kissed downward from the top of her head.
His breathing was heavy, each exhale palpable.
"Hold on to me," he told her.
Wen Bairan had ridden a roller coaster once. When the safety bar clamped down, pinning her shoulders and legs, she’d still felt panicked. Now, she had no idea where to hold on.
Song Xu’s hands were stronger than the seatbelts, pinning her. His other hand pressed on her shoulder. Sensing the pent-up strength in him, she had no time to think, instinctively digging her fingers into his forearm.
Then the wave of sensation crashed over them.
The frenzy didn’t let up.
...
Her phone lit up in the darkness.
The time showed 3 a.m.
Wen Bairan was just catching her breath when she felt the person beside her nuzzle close again. She pushed him away with her hands and feet. "No more…"
She didn’t know what had come over him today—he’d been like a madman, wild and relentless. The heat of his body alone made her legs tremble and go weak.
Her voice was hoarse.
She really had no strength left to handle any more.
The man chuckled softly, his fingers slowly gliding up from her calf, teasing out shivers and tingles.
"Tired?"
"Duh."
Ever since they got home until now, did he think everyone had his endless stamina?
"Get away…" she gasped, exasperated.
She was genuinely exhausted.
Her breaths came out weak.
So he slowed down. "Did you leave that dinner in the break room?"
He kissed gently behind her ear, his voice deep and rich like a cello. Wen Bairan let out a couple of contented hums.
"Mhmm..."
Not satisfied with her wordless murmuring, he nibbled the nape of her neck. It didn’t hurt; it sent a thrill through her.
He demanded, "Use your words."
Wen Bairan, hazy and half-conscious, turned her head and nuzzled her cheek against his lips. "Did you eat?"
As obedient as a kitten.
"No." He swept her long hair out of the way, letting her nuzzle.
"Why?"
Wen Bairan stopped and opened her eyes.
In the faint light from the window, the pale moonlight gathered in Song Xu’s eyes like a clear spring, cool and soothing, washing over her.
Her heart squeezed, then melted. Growing softer and softer.
She couldn’t help but slide her arms out from under the covers to wrap around him, turning her whole body toward him.
Under the pure white velvet covers, their two bodies pressed close.
Missing the contact, Song Xu lowered his head to kiss her again.
Her chin, cheek, eyes, forehead. Finally, her ear.
"Wasn’t it a meal for two?"
How could one person eat a meal for two?
When he turned gentle, it was irresistible.
Not even Wen Bairan.
She buried her face against his neck and whispered, "I wanted to call you, but you were busy."
Not only was he busy, but he made her busy along with him.
Utterly inhuman.
As she spoke, she suddenly laughed.
"What?" Song Xu asked.
She lifted her head, her eyes sparkling like crystal. "You know, people at the company are all afraid to be your secretary. If I hadn’t volunteered, who do you think you could still order around?"
Song Xu lowered his gaze, his eyelashes brushing her forehead—soft in a way that didn’t match his persona at all.
"Why?"
He was very clear about how people at the company viewed him. He believed they were just colleagues, superior-subordinate relationships. As long as they cooperated and collaborated at work, that was enough. There was no need for excessive personal interaction. The purer the professional approach, the higher the efficiency.
Of course, it wasn’t just one-sided exploitation from him. He gave them the most benefits.
Overtime meal allowances, salaries, vacations—employees should receive more than they give, or at least break even.
He didn't quite understand why that wasn't enough.
Wen Bairan found his confusion puzzling. "Besides these, haven't you considered how much psychological pressure you put on them?"
"How much?" In Song Xu's perception, pressure was the source of motivation. Without pressure, a person would be like a crushed soda can on the ground, left to be trampled on, destined only for the recycling bin.
He stated his thoughts honestly and didn't believe he'd pressured anyone. He usually just spoke the truth, and if even the truth brought pressure, he would suggest that person resign and go home.
He spoke very seriously, as if this idea were deeply ingrained, almost innate.
Wen Bairan turned over, pushing herself up on her arms, arms wrapped around herself with her elbows pressed against his chest. The quilt slipped from her shoulders, leaving half her body exposed to the dry, cold air of the room. She looked at him solemnly: "Don’t you think this mindset of yours is very disrespectful?"
She was afraid of the cold, and goosebumps rose on her skin as she shivered slightly.
Her breasts swayed slightly, drawing the man’s intense gaze.
Song Xu's gaze darkened as he wrapped his long arms around her, pulling her into his embrace and sharing his body heat with her. "Explain."
"You always treat people like machines. But people aren’t machines. They have feelings, awareness, and they can sense that you treat them like machines," Wen Bairan said. "You don’t respect our feelings as human beings."
She used "we"/"our."
This he couldn’t accept.
"I don’t respect you?" Song Xu tightened his grip, his lowered voice carrying a dangerous edge. "You said no, so I let you rest, didn't I?"
"..."
Feeling his firmness pressing against her waist, Wen Bairan nervously pressed her hand against his chin and leaned back. "That’s not the same."
She emphasized, "I’m talking about work."
The night was too dark, and though his stubble was barely visible, it scratched against her palm. The sensation was unbearable, and she tried to pull her hand back, but he took her fingers in his mouth.
"What’s the difference?" Her hand was soft, with a faint fragrance emanating from her skin. When her fingertips touched his tongue, she jerked back as if electrocuted. He caught them with his teeth, gently grazing them. He pressed closer, Wen Bairan winced at the discomfort.
"Song Xu!" she exclaimed in a delicate voice.
"What?" he said, undaunted. "Am I being respectful enough?"
"..."
Wen Bairan’s face flushed from his body heat. She fully believed that if she dared to continue opposing him, he would immediately and decisively take things further right then and there.
In the pause, the large hand on her shoulder abruptly hoisted her up, and a surge of panic washed over her.
Wen Bairan immediately shouted, "Enough, enough, enough!"
Panicked, she raised her hands in surrender.
Her ragged breaths showed she was truly afraid of him.
"Heh." Song Xu chuckled softly, so pleased it was infuriating.
*What’s there to laugh about!*
*A strong woman knows when to yield and when to stand her ground—don’t you get it?*
Wen Bairan had never noticed this teasing side of him before. Was he actually threatening her?
*Jerk!*
He tucked her back under the covers, and she turned over as his long arm wrapped around her from behind, pulling her back against his chest. He bent his knees, cradling her legs with his.
In this position, it was as if she were sitting in his embrace.
Both facing the night outside the window, Song Xu deeply breathed in the scent of her hair, his expression intoxicated, as if he couldn’t help himself.
"Vivi."
"Hmm?"
"Do you still love him?"
Wen Bairan froze.
Song Xu’s lips were like two soft feathers, tickling her ear, stirring gentle waves along her nerves.
She couldn’t help but sink into this delicate sensation, her voice as light as a dream. "If I did, would you make me leave again?"
As she finished speaking, his kiss grew heavier, pressing against the back of her head, his chin pushing against her chest, her breath catching in her throat.
He asked, "Do you want to leave?"
Wen Bairan said she didn’t.
She hadn’t wanted to last time, either.
Now she deeply understood the meaning of that phrase.
New people, new emotions, new bodies and intimacy—these things really could help a person move on from old pain.
Song Xu’s kisses always left her with no energy to reminisce. His fingers brought her entirely new, wondrous experiences, and she was completely lost in his embrace, almost forgetting her own name.
"I never said this before, but thank you," she said.
"For what?"
"For not abandoning me that night. If it weren’t for you, I might still be stuck in the whirlpool of the past. It was like a maze, and I was lost in it for so long." Wen Bairan turned her head and kissed him with force.
Even though she was experienced, she was still as awkward as a beginner.
Her bold movements were the result of his nurturing over these past few days.
In her scent, he could detect traces of himself.
This pleased him greatly.
"What does it feel like to be loved by you?" He propped himself up on his elbow, shifting his body above her.
Wen Bairan, pinned beneath him, said she didn’t know.
She had never asked Zhou Lin, nor had she ever summarized her way of loving, but there was one word, a derogatory one, that roughly fit her style.
"What is it?"
Spoiling.
Once a relationship was established, she would completely withdraw herself and the other person from the mundane world. No matter what they were originally like, she would fill them with indulgent folds and patterns, letting them swell and collide until they were battered and bruised, ultimately beyond recognition.
She’d done some soul-searching; perhaps it wasn't entirely his fault that she and Zhou Lin had reached this point.
She was at fault too.
Maybe she was even more at fault.
She was well aware of his personality, and she knew her own weaknesses.
Yet, from the very beginning, she’d let everything head downhill.
Even with Song Xu, it was the same.
Because she knew they would have no future. Since they would eventually drift apart like sand in the wind, she might as well live it all to the fullest right now.
They were passionate, all-consuming, to the point that each night felt numbered.
She used to think this was a carpe diem mindset, but only later did she realize nothing was more pessimistic than her outlook.
She just assumed every relationship would end.
So she let it all slide. Never tried to save anything.
"I'm sorry."
She gave in to her senses, feeling his teeth leaving red marks on her skin.
It stung, but not really.
The pleasure he brought was greater, but she never thought of giving back.
Song Xu lifted his face glistening with sweat, the intensity in his hooded eyes so intense it was suffocating.
"How did you know I would go along with it?"
He asked, "How did you know I would also let it ride?"
Wen Bairan shut her eyes, feeling hollow, missing the look in his eyes at that moment, and only pleaded with him desperately to continue, "Song Xu..."
"Wen Bairan, you’ve got a point."
"In this matter, I wasn’t planning on going easy on you."
The rush inside her receded rapidly, only to rise again in wave after wave.
She faintly heard the sound of water dripping.
"Just like this."
His teeth sank into her flesh.
Song Xu laid down the law: "The start or the end. It’s up to me."
Blank or overwhelmed.
She was the one who should play along.
He controlled the pleasure, and all she had to do was ask and then feel.
"Now tell me."
"You want this?"
Wen Bairan was driven crazy by his intermittent movements.
She threw her head back and cried out, ashamed, "Yes..."
"Song Xu, I..."
No more words were needed.
Song Xu was the perfect human engine; receiving the demand for interaction, he immediately began delivering exactly what satisfied her.
……
Summer mornings came too early.
As the morning light spilled into the high-rise suite, Wen Bairan screamed one last time and blacked out against him.
He held her close, his fingertips toying lazily with her hair, wrapping it tight, releasing it, then wrapping it tight again.
The phone on the bedside table, which had been lit all night, finally died.
Song Xu picked it up, and the sudden vibration during the process made the woman in his arms stir uneasily.
He moved to the edge of the bed.
His thumb drummed lightly on the exposed skin on her back.
Almost soothingly.
With his left hand, he answered the incoming call.
An anxious male voice came through, only to be cut off by the sunlight streaming through the window.
"Wen Bairan......"
"Hello," he said softly, his voice raspy and loose from a night of passion. "This is Song Xu."