Floor 88. The backup generator kicked in, restoring the lights.
Su Wan snapped back to reality from the darkness, only to realize she was straddling the man's lap, her lips pressed against his Adam's apple.
"I'm... I'm sorry!"
As she tried to rise, her waist was seized.
"Don't move," Lu Tingchen's voice was dangerously hoarse. "Unless you want things to get even messier."
Su Wan froze instantly, her face flushing crimson to her ears.
The man chuckled softly, carrying her to the sofa before rising to fetch ice water.
"You sleep in there tonight," he gestured toward the guest room. "I'll take the couch."
"But your hand..."
"Minor injury." The man lifted his gaze, his eyes deep and intense. "Or... would you rather sleep together?"
Su Wan vanished in an instant.
Half an hour later, the study door creaked open—
Su Wan clutched a pillow, whispering, "The couch is too short. Your hand will bleed..."
Lu Tingchen raised an eyebrow. "Then?"
"The bed... I'll give you half..."
The man paused for a second before chuckling softly, "Alright."
The two lay side by side on the large bed, separated by a quilt.
Su Wan counted her heartbeat: 120.
The man turned sideways, reached out, and pulled her—blanket and all—into his embrace. His jaw rested against the crown of her head as his voice grew low and husky:
"Go to sleep. Stop counting."
"...Okay."
Ten minutes later, Su Wan fell asleep, her breathing steady and even.
Lu Tingchen lowered his head, his kiss landing on her hairline, light as a feather.
"Good night, little prey."
At dawn, Su Wan awoke to find herself sprawled across his chest, her lips pressed against his collarbone.
The man opened his eyes, his voice thick with morning languor:
"Morning, my dedicated little assistant."