He kissed her with a fury so fierce it seemed mixed with something else—something she couldn't name. All she could feel was his overwhelming strength: one hand clamped brutally on the back of her head, shoving her into his mouth as if he meant to swallow her whole; the other locked around her waist with enough force to snap her spine.
What terrified her most were his lips and teeth. His lips were cold, his teeth unyielding, and his tongue—carrying the cool sweetness of grapes—invaded her with predatory, ruthless aggression, ravaging every corner of her mouth.
Suddenly she remembered that rainy night a year ago—when he'd pinned her and kissed her just like this. Back then, it had been pure desire. But now… now there was something else in it, something darker and more chaotic. She didn't know what it was, and she didn't have the capacity to think. She could barely breathe—he was stealing every last drop of oxygen from her lungs.
The next instant, her feet left the ground. The world spun.
Chen Jin had lifted her into his arms.
He strode toward the staircase in long, powerful steps, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. Throughout the entire ascent—except for fleeting moments when he drew breath—his mouth stayed on hers. Through the haze she vaguely heard Aunt Zhou's startled exclamation.
A sick fear crawled up her spine. They're going to fall. They're going to roll down the stairs. He's insane. Completely, terrifyingly insane.
And she thought bleakly, One day he really will kill me.
In the bedroom, he threw her down with such force that she bounced on the springy mattress before his weight crashed down over her.
Chen Jin kept kissing her—biting her—stamping red marks all over her pale skin as if branding her inch by inch.
But midway through, his cold lips brushed something wet.
He looked up.
Her entire face was streaked with tears.
He scowled. "Don't act weak. I'm not falling for it."
A bitter ache twisted through her chest. He really overestimates me. She wasn't pretending. She was truly afraid. He was different today—more violent, more unstable, more dangerous.
His hand slid under her clothes. Normally he burned hot while she stayed cool, but today his fingers were ice-cold, making her flinch. Then pain shot up her spine—he was kneading her breasts with crude, punishing force.
A stray, hysterical thought flashed through her mind: If these were implants, he'd crush the silicone to pulp.
He didn't notice her gasp of pain. One hand continued its merciless assault while the other slipped downward, tugging at her pants. His mouth descended again, stealing her breath, devouring what little air she had left.
His onslaught was like a typhoon—merciless, overwhelming, giving her no chance to breathe.
By the time she could finally drag air into her lungs again, Chen Jin was already inside her, pounding with a fierce, unrelenting rhythm.
Lin Wan stared over his shoulder—and froze.
If she weren't pinned, she would have leaped up in horror.
The door was wide open.
They had been in here for—God knew how long. Anyone passing by… anyone walking up the stairs…
Her face burned, heat flooding upward like a fever. In a strangled whisper, she pleaded, "Close the door."
"No," he replied instantly, not even glancing back.
She tried again.
He snapped, "If you want it closed, go close it yourself."
She was on the verge of tears. If Aunt Zhou comes up to call us for dinner—she'll see everything. Maybe she already has…
Her voice cracked. "Chen Jin… please. Please close the door."
This time he paused. He grabbed her leg and hooked it around his waist. "Hold on."
Then he gripped her hips, lifted her clean off the bed, and stood up.
The moment her back left the mattress, she clung to him instinctively. But after two steps, she realized what he intended to do.
Her mind exploded—like a match dropped into a barrel of gasoline.
Strike us dead with lightning. Right here. Right now. Please. God, let the earth swallow me whole. I'm done—I'm really done—let me die.
Chen Jin carried her straight to the doorway and kicked the door shut—
—but he didn't return to bed.
Instead, he slammed her against the wall.
After so many shocks, she felt herself going numb—no, she forced herself to go numb, because only numbness could keep her from feeling the cold wall at her back or the violence of the man in front of her.
His warm lips slid across her cheek to her ear. "Wanwan," he murmured, voice low and coaxing, "Do you like it?"
Her voice trembled. "Just kill me."
"Okay," he answered vaguely.
When they finally collapsed back onto the bed, both their bodies were drenched with sweat. Lin Wan clutched the sheets, eyes vacant as she stared at the ceiling, silently praying for the torment to end.
Then suddenly—pressure tightened around her throat.
Warm. Firm.
Chen Jin's hand.
She knew his strength well—had known it for years—and he had just proven it all over again. Terror stabbed through her. She looked at him, only to find a strange emptiness flickering in his eyes, as if his mind had slipped loose from reality.
Her blood ran cold. She remembered the single word he had murmured earlier—"Okay."
A chill crawled down her spine.
She tried to speak, but his fingers tightened. She clawed at his hand, pushed weakly at his chest—her palm sliding over nothing but sweat.
Just as she thought she was about to die, air rushed back into her lungs. His hand released her.
As she gulped for breath, he asked calmly, "Did you feel anything?"
She didn't answer.
He continued, "They say choking gives pleasure."
Lin Wan could only think: Sick. Completely, utterly sick.
He muttered to himself, "I don't feel anything."
Then his palm cupped her cheek, and he whispered, "Wanwan… hurting you was never my intention."
A broken edge entered his voice. "For the first time in years, I hoped my plan would fail… It's normal for you not to trust me. I don't trust you either. But I don't want to use those tricks on you anymore…"
His words grew thinner, more incoherent, fading into something like delirium.
Lin Wan glanced at the wall clock.
Six ten.
They had been going at it for more than two hours.
He looked exhausted. She felt hollowed out. And he was still on top of her, still inside her, refusing to move.
Weary and aching, she whispered, "Get out."
"Don't move. I'm tired," he mumbled, annoyed, as if she'd interrupted his sleep. He nuzzled against her shoulder, rubbing his head there like a restless animal.
His hair prickled her cheek—short, stiff, unfamiliar. And yet… strangely familiar.
A memory surfaced.
Her elementary school deskmate— the class's worst student.
The teacher had seated them together so she could help improve his grades. She had hated him. He slept through class, hogged half her desk. She would draw a line to divide the space; he ignored it. She even tried poking him with her compass—he never felt a thing.
One day, furious, she shoved his head. His buzzcut was like a field of tiny steel needles stabbing her palm. The shock of it marked her so deeply she remembered the sensation for years.
He transferred away sometime after that. But before leaving, he slipped a letter between the pages of her Chinese textbook. The handwriting was surprisingly neat. He called her Wanwan.
He wrote that he liked her. That was because she was the top student. The only way he could sit beside her was by dragging himself to the bottom of the class—deliberately turning in blank exams and getting punished for it.
He wrote that he would come back someday. That she should wait for him.
He never returned.
And she eventually forgot.
But sometimes, when memory brushed past that old corner, she felt a strange warmth.
Now, lying beneath Chen Jin's weight, she thought of that boy.
She felt… a little sad.
Maybe he wasn't so annoying after all.
He used to leave snacks at his desk.
She wasn't allowed to eat them.
He'd get angry and toss them in the trash.
Lin Wan dazedly lifted her hand and touched Chen Jin's hair again.
Hard, but not painful.
The memory had been exaggerated.
She exhaled softly. "Chen Jin… let me go."
No answer.
Only the warm brush of his breath against her neck—proof that he had fallen asleep.
Lin Wan sighed helplessly.
When will this ever end?
And… am I going to suffocate under him?