Chapter 188: Master, I Really Love You

Chu Wanning's heart suddenly tightened.

What about the rain being too heavy, or how cold and hot it was – clearly, they could have just gone back, but he insisted on taking him to an inn with such awkward excuses that they both found unconvincing.

Even if Chu Wanning were the most foolish person, he would understand the underlying meaning behind Mo Ran's actions.

Mo Ran was checking his pulse, probing his feelings.

If he shook his head, Mo Ran wouldn't force the issue, but if he agreed, it would mean he consented to…

What exactly?

Chu Wanning didn't know, and even if he did, he wasn't willing to think about it.

His face felt scorching hot, a heat that even the pouring rain couldn't extinguish. He was extremely nervous, unsure of what to say, so he simply grabbed the narrow neck of the wine flask, wanting to take another sip. But it was almost empty; the last, slightly cool and viscous sip of pear blossom white passed his throat. Lowering his head, the bright red tassel accentuated his fingers, making them appear even more slender and fair.

Silence ensued, creating an awkward atmosphere.

Mo Ran wasn't much of a drinker, yet as he tilted his head back to sip the alcohol, he unexpectedly asked, "Is there more?"

"No."

"...You're so impatient, even when drinking," Mo Ran commented. Lowering his head, he tenderly kissed those lips. "Then I'll just have to savor the taste."

The White Pear Blossom liquor was mellow and sweet, carrying a subtle fragrance of osmanthus.

But that year when Chu Wanning turned thirty and passed away, Mo Ran drank alone on the rooftop all night. By the end, he couldn't taste anything but bitterness.

After that, and even after his rebirth, Mo Ran didn't have much desire to touch alcohol again.

It was just too bitter.

He kissed Chu Wanning's slightly cool lips, starting with gentle pecks, cautiously touching and parting, then carefully pressing their lips together once more.

Thunder rumbled, and the world seemed vast and desolate.

Under the arcade, no one else was around. The rain served as a natural veil, and at some point, they found themselves entwined in each other's arms, their lips and tongues intertwining in a wet dance. The sound of their passionate kisses, with hearts pounding and saliva mixing, was drowned out by the thunderous downpour hitting the rafters. Chu Wanning could hear nothing but the deafening roar of the rain, like the clashing of war drums that reverberated through his soul.

Different from the cold raindrops splashing onto them, Mo Ran's breath was scorching hot. His kiss traveled from Chu Wanning's lips to his nose, eyes, forehead, and then to his temple. With his rough, moist tongue, he licked the delicate lobe of Chu Wanning's ear. Unable to withstand the stimulation, Chu Wanning's body tensed, his fingers curling into fists, though he refused to make a sound.

Their necks intertwined, Mo Ran held onto Chu Wanning's earring, brushing past the tiny mole behind his ear...

Chu Wanning trembled slightly in Mo Ran's embrace.

Mo Ran tightened his hold, wanting to crush him, to grind him into dust and absorb him into his own flesh and blood. His voice was low and hoarse as he whispered into Chu Wanning's ear, "Master..."

The respectful title was in stark contrast to his rebellious hands caressing the man in his arms. The young man's pent-up passion, stifled beneath layers of constraint, had finally boiled over. Like hot water reaching its boiling point, frothing and bubbling, it threatened to evaporate, to be consumed entirely. Yet, the fire continued to rage, torturing them both.

"T...take me away with you..."

Perhaps possessed by a sudden madness, he allowed Mo Ran to grasp his hand tightly, dashing through the rain together in a desperate rush, an absurdity amidst the downpour.

The rain was bitterly cold, yet it felt scorching against their skin. Neither of them had activated a protective barrier nor sought shelter with an umbrella. It seemed as though their magical powers were fading, reducing them to ordinary mortals, exposed to the wind and rain as they hastily followed the swaying red lanterns into an inn.

The inn's attendant was yawning, assuming that with such heavy rain at this late hour, no travelers would be seeking lodging. Hence, he was startled when the pair drenched in rain burst in.

Mo Ran held onto Chu Wanning's wrist tightly; his palm was so hot that it felt as if it could evaporate the moisture.

He wiped the water trickling down his handsome face and said impatiently, "We need a room."

"Ah, okay, okay. Here are the keys to two superior rooms. The total cost is..."

"What?" Upon hearing that there were two rooms, Mo Ran grew even more agitated. His throat constricted, and his slender fingers curled, tapping on the counter. "No, we only need one room."

The attendant was taken aback. He glanced at Mo Ran, then at Chu Wanning.

Chu Wanning abruptly turned his face away, burning with embarrassment. He subtly pulled his hand free from Mo Ran's grip and declared, "Two rooms."

The attendant hesitated slightly, trying to be understanding. "If you're short on silver, one room will suffice."

"Two rooms," Chu Wanning declared firmly, his gaze sharp as a dagger, causing the attendant to step back in apprehension. It was unclear what had provoked the white-robed immortal behind him. The attendant hurriedly handed over the two keys and collected the payment accordingly, filled with anxiety.

Chu Wanning took a deep breath, endeavoring to appear as composed as he usually did. Unfortunately, his body was still drenched, water dripping continuously from his wet clothes. Raindrops trickled down his dark brows, sliding into his eyes. He blinked, his damp eyelashes glistening.

"I'll go to sleep first. You buy some ginger tea and dry towels. Come up later," Chu Wanning said solemnly, making sure to take only a single brass key from Mo Ran in front of the waiter before ascending the stairs alone.

He looked entirely innocent.

Mo Ran, following behind, didn't say anything but couldn't help finding the situation amusing. He knew that Chu Wanning was sensitive, and no matter what, he would maintain his composure for others' sake.

Arriving in the room, it was a small, single space with a narrow bed.

Glancing at the bed, Chu Wanning felt a dryness in his throat and a burning sensation on his cheeks. He dared not look again, standing in the center of the bedroom without even lighting a candle, unsure of what he should do.

His mind was still hazy, finding the entire situation absurd, abrupt, and unexpected.

How could this be...

How did he end up here, soaked in rain, behaving recklessly? How did...

Before he could finish his thoughts, the door behind him creaked open, and Mo Ran stepped inside.

Chu Wanning's body instantly tensed up, his fingers forming fists within the wide sleeves of his robe. He tried his hardest to suppress the subtle tremors running through his bones, but failed.

For the first time in his life, he felt so lost and helpless, like he had handed over control of his kite string to another person.

His palms were moist, unsure if it was from rain or sweat.

With a sharp "click," the door latch fell into place, echoing loudly and sending chills down his spine, as if a executioner's blade were at his neck, with the metallic tang of blood. It was like a leopard or wolf baring its fangs, ready to sink them into its prey, the scent of blood already in the air.

Suddenly, abruptly, unexpectedly, Chu Wanning felt an overwhelming urge to flee the scene.

Fortunately, his face betrayed none of these emotions.

Mo Ran spoke, his voice gentle though slightly strained, "Why isn't there a candle lit?"

"…I forgot."

Mo Ran placed a wooden tray on the table and handed Chu Wanning a steaming bowl, saying, "Here's the ginger tea you wanted. Drink it while it's hot."

Saying so, he walked over to the window and lit the candlestick next to the western window.

Outside, the wind howled and rain slanted, while inside the room was cast in darkness. Yet, the lattice window, carved with a delicate grapevine pattern, remained ajar. Through it, the blurred lights from neighboring homes faintly illuminated the space, casting a soft, feeble glow.

Mo Ran stood by the open window, beside an elegant and slender crane-shaped brass candlestick. Against the backdrop of the white, torrential rain, his tall figure appeared resolute, handsome, and well-defined. As he fiddled with the fire knife and flint, his fine, curled eyelashes stood out vividly, resembling two black butterflies.

As a cultivator, igniting a flame was not supposed to be such a tedious task for him, but he deliberately chose to act like an ordinary person, using the most common method, to steadily and quietly kindle that flicker of light, illuminating the core of his heart like a soft, crimson tear from a candle.

The flint sparked to life, and just as he was about to ignite the wick, Chu Wanning suddenly spoke.

"Burn no lamp," said Chu Wanning.

Mo Ran paused, turning to look at him. "Why?"

Chu Wanning didn't know how to respond, so he simply repeated his request stiltedly, "Don't light the lamp."

For a moment, Mo Ran was perplexed. Then, gazing at the rigid figure standing in the darkness, a slow realization dawned upon him.

Even the peerless Yu Heng in the deep of night had fears, had things that made him uneasy, had areas of ignorance.

In his previous life, those who had shared his bed, be they men or women, all wished for the Esteemed Immortal to glance at their faces more often. None of them ever requested to extinguish the candles; they preferred the red flames to burn through the night. They employed countless techniques and vied for his favor with boundless charm, hoping to win just an inch of his affection.

Mo Ran was not affectionate.

Whether it was the initial Rong Jiu or the later Song Qiutong, strangely enough, he had stubbornly favored them because they reminded him of Shi Mo, keeping them by his side in a near-delusional obsession.

But he never cared to look at their faces during intimate moments.

He would always make them face away from him, refraining from kisses and caresses. Amidst the monotonous repetitions, his mind remained clear.

At times, he would suddenly feel it was all utterly meaningless.

Truly meaningless.

He couldn't recall the smiling, fawning, climaxing, flushed faces illuminated by candlelight.

Now, in retrospect, those dalliances had nothing to do with "joy" or "love." Instead, they were like sinking into a muddy chaos, dragging himself down further into degradation. It was self-abandonment, a wish to taint even the corners of his bones black.

When one was pitch-black, there would be no longing for light or yearning for redemption. There would be no more daring thoughts of embracing the last flicker of fire in this world.

Splendid.

And yet, why is there still no sign of giving up?

No matter how he told himself not to cling, not to yearn, that his life was hopeless and the world was dark, he would still find himself in the swaying Wu Shan Palace, in torment and strife, reaching out with trembling claws to fiercely strangle Chu Wanning's neck, pressing him against cold golden stones, against the desolate courtyard's green stone platform, amidst disarrayed bedding, on the snow, in hot springs, even on high thrones in court halls, in temples and shrines, in the most solemn, sacred, and revered places.

Defiling him.

Staring at his face, kissing his neck, cheeks, lips, calling his name.

Tearing him apart.

In truth, during those times, Chu Wanning must have wanted darkness too, to extinguish all light.

Not a single ray of it.

But back then, Chu Wanning didn't say anything, refused to utter a word, wouldn't make any demands.

Thinking back, after imprisoning him for eight long years, Chu Wanning had only asked him for two things, at the very beginning and the very end.

The first was to beg him, upon entering the Wu Mountain Palace, to spare Xue Meng.

The second was to request, before forever leaving this world, that he spare himself.

If not for utter disillusionment and despair, how could he have...

Mo Ran set down his fire knife and flint, remaining silent for a long while.

Long enough for Chu Wanning's tense body to gradually relax, and for him to softly ask, "What is it?"

Mo Ran replied, "... Nothing."

His voice was gentle, damp, and tinged with bitterness.

He walked over and embraced the figure standing alone in the darkness. Both of them were still somewhat damp from the rain. Holding Chu Wanning, Mo Ran said, "Wanning."

"..."

For a moment, he was suddenly overcome with the urge to tell him everything that had happened in the past. But his throat constricted, as if a fish bone were lodged there, preventing him from speaking.

Truly, truly, he could not bring himself to say it.

The warmth they now shared was too hard-won, too difficult for both him and Chu Wanning. No matter the guilt or remorse, it could not be spoken, nor did he wish to speak it.

He didn't want to wake up.

He just wanted to continue this beautiful dream.

Until dawn pierced through his throat.

There were no lights, no flames; in the darkness, Mo Ran held him close and kissed him with great focus, the kiss growing increasingly fervent.

The room was quiet, a silence that even the sound of rain could not disrupt. They could hear each other's breaths, their heartbeats, the soft wet sounds as their lips brushed and shifted angles.

Chu Wanning tried desperately to maintain his usual breathing pattern, but it was futile. Under Mo Ran's kisses and touches, his chest began to rise and fall more rapidly. He was a tall, well-built man, yet Mo Ran enfolded him effortlessly, towering over him like a majestic mountain. This man held him tightly in his heated embrace, at first gently pecking and then seeking more.

Mo Ran forced his way into Chu Wanning's mouth, his moist and rough tongue probing and entwining, as if a parched man drinking nectar, or one engulfed in flames seeking water to extinguish the fire. But Chu Wanning's breath was not cool water to Mo Ran; it was pitch, fueling the flames, burning boundlessly, like wildfire.

It was unclear who initiated the removal of their clothing. In the dark, labored breathing mingled with the sound of swallowing, perhaps from hastily undoing waistbands and garments, causing minor pain, or perhaps from the thrilling sensation of a long-awaited quenching. Occasionally, small moans escaped their lips, but mostly, there were the excited, rough pants of male desire.

The edges of Chu Wanning's inner garment were torn open, and before he could adjust to the cool sensation, Mo Ran leaned down to kiss his neck, then his collarbone, and finally took one of his nipples into his mouth, wet and fiery hot...

Chu Wanning let out a low gasp, tilting his head back in a mix of shame and excitement.

His face flushed red, but fortunately, the room was dimly lit, so he hoped Mo Ran couldn't see the heat on his cheeks. Nonetheless, he whispered, "The... window..."

"What?"

Mo Ran lifted his head, his gaze blurred as he met Chu Wanning's moist, downcast eyes.

He had intended to wait for Chu Wanning to finish his sentence, but at just one glance, his scalp prickled, blood rushed to his head, and he couldn't suppress his intense desire. He kissed and caressed Chu Wanning, holding him tightly in his embrace for a long while before reluctantly releasing his lips with a soft gasp, only to peck him again, his voice hoarse, "What?"

"The... window..." Chu Wanning's heart pounded rapidly. Lost in the prolonged kiss, he struggled to catch his breath, leaving him dizzy. "You haven't closed the window."

Mo Ran got up to shut it.

The last sliver of light was now blocked out, plunging the bedroom into complete darkness. Their passion burned even brighter, and Mo Ran felt every drop of his blood boil. They stumbled and collided, tumbling onto the bed, which creaked under its age and neglect. Not giving Chu Wanning any chance to react, Mo Ran pressed himself atop him, intent on undoing the already disheveled and wide-open white undergarment.

He sensed Chu Wanning trembling beneath him, just as he had during their first intimate encounter in their previous life. Even with great restraint, Chu Wanning still quivered, subtly yet uncontrollably.

Filled with tenderness and concern, Mo Ran lifted Chu Wanning's face, kissing his eyelids, lips, and chin.

In a hoarse whisper, he murmured into his ear, "Don't be afraid..."

"I'm not... I'm not scared..."

Mo Ran took Chu Wanning's slightly trembling hand and interlaced their fingers. His hot, robust breath brushed against Chu Wanning's earlobe as he reassured him, "Trust me... Be good... It's okay..."

Chu Wanning wanted to speak, to lash out with fierce words, even just a few syllables. But he couldn't utter a sound; his mind was nearly numb.

All he could feel was Mo Ran's towering, sturdy frame pressing down on him, roughened hands kneading his waist and back. Unable to withstand the stimulation, he arched his body slightly, unintentionally pressing against Mo Ran's bare chest—Mo Ran's undergarment had long since been discarded, revealing his muscular, naked upper body. The startling heat and strength were like a scorching flame that threatened to melt and soften Chu Wanning entirely.

Sweaty, slick bodies entwined, igniting flames with each brush of skin. The heavy breathing in the room grew deeper, more intense, saturated with desire. So thirsty.

No matter how intimate or passionately they kissed, the thirst remained unquenched, insatiable.

For some reason, Chu Wanning's muddled mind flashed fleeting, hazy images: writhing bodies, powerless legs, a crimson canopy and bedding.

It was a dream he had once experienced, suddenly resurfacing vividly in his mind.

In the dream, Mo Ran was fiercely thrusting into him, gripping his waist and pounding against him with brutal force. He penetrated deeply and relentlessly. Perhaps due to pleasure or some other reason, Mo Ran's handsome features appeared somewhat grotesque, his eyes glowing like those of an animal.

Chu Wanning had no doubts. He was inexperienced in such matters, but he supposed it was natural for desires to manifest in such realistic dreams when they arose.

However, Mo Ran was unaware. He believed Chu Wanning knew nothing, neither the ways of men and women nor how two men could find intimacy. He was afraid of startling him, of causing pain during their first time. Thus, he caressed Chu Wanning tenderly, taking ample time for foreplay. He never wanted Chu Wanning to endure such discomfort or suffering again in this life.

As they kissed, touched, and entwined, desire intensified. Chu Wanning, unused to such stimulation, gradually found it unbearable. One hand still clasped Mo Ran's tightly, while the other, with great restraint, dug into the bedding. He longed to soothe himself, but blushing fiercely, he refused to perform such an awkward act before the one he loved.

Yet, his lower body swelled with such intensity, the heat beneath his undergarment forming an impressive erection.

Chu Wanning felt his dignity utterly destroyed, overwhelmed by torment.

He desired it, desperately craved release and comfort. Yet, he resisted stubbornly, his narrowed phoenix eyes misting over with confusion...

Unbeknownst to him, he gradually lost touch with reality, yet instinctively knew what to do. He understood how men could unite, feeling desire and affection within his chest. He loved the man on top of him, longing to dive into the ocean of lust with him, to plummet together into the depths of passion.

Flashes of surreal visions danced before his eyes, a surreal kaleidoscope of colors in constant motion.

How peculiar... Why was he at the Peak of Life and Death... in the Heartcore Palace?

A fleeting moment of clarity flickered in his mind, only to be swiftly engulfed by confusion.

He saw Mo Ran seated on the magnificent throne within the Heartcore Palace, a place of solemn grandeur reserved for honored guests. Yet, there he was, himself, in Mo Ran's embrace, face-to-face, naked and vulnerable, while Mo Ran was fully clothed, save for the slight exposure of his undergarment, which his own dangling legs concealed.

Mo Ran kissed him, thrusting upward, his gaze unblinkingly fixed upon his face.

He asked, "Does it feel good?"

It seemed he saw himself shaking his head in silent endurance of pain.

Mo Ran's fingers delved into his mouth, prying it open as if to coax out his moans.

"Let it out. Scream."

But he refused, emitting only faint whimpers from deep within his throat.

Mo Ran did not thrust again; he remained embedded within Chu Wanning's body, holding his waist and guiding him. His large hand slowly slid down to grip his buttocks, fiercely kneading them until they turned red. In a hoarse, fierce whisper, he growled, "Scream."

"No..."

He held onto Chu Wanning's waist and hips, making him grind slowly and deeply against him. With moist eyes, he looked at Chu Wanning, who was enduring the sensation with a tremble but still remaining silent. Mo Ran then began to grasp that slender waist, penetrating him in small, rapid strokes from bottom to top. The intensity of the shallow thrusts was intense, filling every inch of space. Chu Wanning felt like he was being driven mad by the chilling friction, as if he were about to be pierced through entirely. "No... Don't..."

"The decision isn't yours to make," the figure on the throne sneered. He didn't move, but his thick, heated erection, poised deep inside, throbbed with each beat of his heart. "Besides, aren't you enjoying it? Look, you're hard."

The words and images were hazy, fragmented, like a hallucination brought on by overwhelming stimulation.

Chu Wanning lay dazedly on the inn bed, trembling and aching with a painful hardness below.

What's happening... What should I do...

The scene grew more indistinct, yet he could discern that Mo Ran on the magnificent throne suddenly drove into him fiercely from bottom to top, almost pulling out completely before slamming back in.

Too stimulating...

Unable to hold back any longer, he collapsed onto the man, gasping and moaning incoherently. "Ah... Ah..."

The man was also panting roughly, forcefully penetrating and manipulating him.

"You're whining so provocatively, aren't you afraid someone might hear?"

"Damn it... Are you asking me to fuck you to death?"

His vision grew increasingly blurred...

Until he could no longer see...

It was an illusion, a delusion, like something fake, just fake.

A superimposition of dreams, an unrelenting nightmare.

Yet the sensation of being defied by fate, invaded and possessed, was so vivid.

Should... this be happening?

With his phoenix eyes half-lidded in a hazy, almost dissipated gaze, Chu Wanning murmured softly, "Come in..."

Mo Ran was startled!

Did Chu Wanning know what to do?

How could he possibly know?

This person who has never even seen an erotic picture, a clean piece of white paper, how could he know?

"Is... it supposed to be like this?"

His face was flushed as if it were about to bleed, and he muttered this question to the man pinning him down.

"Where… where did you learn this from?"

"..."

Of course, Chu Wanning couldn't possibly admit that he had learned it from a dream; it would make him seem licentious and shameless. He equivocated, "I accidentally came across it in the Book Collection Pavilion..."

He quickly added, "Someone placed the book in the wrong spot."

Of course, Mo Ran didn't doubt him; instead, he felt a subtle yet profound emotion stir within.

He kissed Chu Wanning's lips and the tip of his nose before whispering, "Too eager."

"..."

Eager?

Who's eager?!

His blood rushed to his head in a fit of anger and humiliation. But Mo Ran leaned down, pressing their chests together.

Gently stroking Chu Wanning's hair, he said, "It'll hurt."

"Then let's not," Chu Wanning replied firmly, attempting to save face.

Mo Ran chuckled softly, his deep and slightly hoarse voice rich and captivating.

He continued, "You don't have to worry about me tonight..." His voice trailed off gradually.

Chu Wanning blinked.

How about tonight?

Mo Ran's muscular arm supported him as he gazed down at Chu Wanning, then slowly sat up and leaned in closer.

This was something that had never happened in his dreams. What was he planning to do?

"I only want to make you feel good tonight," he said, leaning down before Chu Wanning could react. He undid the undergarment and, with a deep and passionate gaze, took Chu Wanning's arousal into his mouth.

"Ahh—!"

Chu Wanning's spine trembled as he gasped in shock, panting heavily. What was this feeling?

How... how could it be like this... How indecent...

But it felt so good, to be enclosed in his lover's warm, moist mouth, being sucked gently. Mo Ran's teeth were carefully held back, avoiding contact with the engorged shaft. As he continued, Mo Ran heard Chu Wanning's rapid breaths and low moans. Lifting his eyelids, he looked at Chu Wanning with tenderness, even indulgence.

Heaven-Stepping Lord.

He had never done such a thing before, nor had he ever imagined himself doing it.

But now, he was willing, captivated, even joyful.

"Don't... How can you... Hurry, spit it out." Chu Wanning's face flushed to the extreme. He bit his lip, shaking his head. His phoenix eyes, once like daggers, now held only desire and panic.

So adorable.

Mo Ran sucked deeply, drawing it down his throat, causing Chu Wanning to lose his composure, lying on the bed gasping for breath with unfocused eyes.

He licked and sucked, back and forth, then withdrew, a licentious smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. With moist eyes, he asked, "Darling, does that feel good?"

Chu Wanning felt as if fireworks were exploding in his skull, casting a colorful glow. He was dazed, yet still aware of Mo Ran's endearment. It was both shameful and sweet, so sweet that it was shameful, leaving his bones feeling weak. How could he...

He was his master, much older, the revered Immortal of the Northern Dipper. He... "Ah..."

That low, hoarse voice echoed again in the quiet, dimly lit bedroom.

Mo Ran tenderly licked the plump and rounded head of Chu Wanning's member, his tongue both deft and rough as it grazed over spots that even Chu Wanning himself rarely touched. Despite being overwhelmed by the stimulation to the point of tears, just like in his past life when he had tried to guard against, resist, and push away, he still couldn't help but luxuriate in Mo Ran's embrace. He didn't resist, so his Adam's apple bobbed, and a hoarse gasp escaped his lips.

Unconsciously, he closed his eyes, veiled by mist, as Mo Ran took him into his mouth again and mimicked the thrusting motion to please him. Unable to endure, Chu Wanning reached out, his slender fingers threading through Mo Ran's black hair, weakly pushing back.

"Ah... Don't... Don't do this... It's... dirty..."

But Mo Ran only lifted his dewy gaze, his dark, lust-filled eyes locking onto him. "I like you, I want to treat you like this, make you feel good... How can it be dirty?" He gently kissed the engorged, vein-ridged shaft and whispered softly, "Every part of you is the best."

With that, he buried his head once more, lavishing attention on Chu Wanning with his mouth. The inexperienced, pure Chu Wanning could hardly withstand such stimulation. As a first-timer, he soon climaxed, involuntarily thrusting deep into Mo Ran's throat during the peak of his desire.

Mo Ran... must have been suffering?

The world around them was a blur, everything dissipating, except for the blissful sensation of climaxing. He had never experienced such intense pleasure before.

Even amidst this overwhelming rush of sensations, he vaguely realized what he had done in the end. He wanted to sit up and wipe the corners of Mo Ran's mouth, caress him, kiss him, thank him.

But his waist was weak, his limbs numb.

He couldn't move.

As he quivered with fluttering lashes, Mo Ran had already swallowed the essence that had spurted from him. This realization left Chu Wanning's mind a blank, a tingle spreading numbly down the back of his neck.

In the end, Mo Ran turned over, his burning body pressing against Chu Wanning's still panting form. Mo Ran caressed his face; his own arousal remained rigid and rampant, pressing against Chu Wanning's abdomen. Perhaps his eyes were a little reddened, exuding a hint of primal ferocity, but they still gazed at him intently and gently.

"I love you."

Truly, truly, he loved him.

It was a wolfish ambition, a prodigal's return, burdened with guilt and sin, yet refusing to let go. It was selfish, desperate, fervent, and longing.

He loved him.