Chapter 102

Chapter 102

The car moved steadily along the road.

"No kiss?"

Bao Tingyuan asked in a low voice, hearing him hum in response, then pressed further, "Seriously?"

Wen Cishu twisted his slender neck away. "Of course."

That’s what you get for ignoring me!

The moment he spoke, Bao Tingyuan’s lips closed over his Adam’s apple, drawing an involuntary muffled moan from him.

Bao Tingyuan licked and sucked slowly, like he was savoring a piece of candy, unexpectedly tasting a hint of sweetness, which only made him even bolder.

Wen Cishu tried to pull away, but his arms were pinned to his waist and legs, leaving him immobilized.

The sucking sent shivers through him, his scalp tingling, making him arch his neck—which only looked like encouragement.

"D-don’t leave marks…"

But Bao Tingyuan acted as if he hadn’t heard, lifting his dark green eyes behind thin lenses to admire Wen Cishu’s flushed, dazed expression. "You don’t like it here?"

Wen Cishu’s hands braced against his firm shoulders, hesitating before shaking his head quickly.

Bao Tingyuan gave a low, knowing laugh. "Got it." He obliged, kissing lower, while deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt with one hand.

Soon, Wen Cishu’s shirt was hanging open, and he was squirming uncomfortably. As Bao Tingyuan’s lips sucked hard, he whispered in shame, "We’re in a car, you know~"

Bao Tingyuan didn’t remove his glasses, so he kept it brief.

He exhaled a warm breath, making Wen Cishu shiver lightly, his breath hitching.

The car stopped in the garage of the Bao family mansion.

Blushing, Wen Cishu ducked his head to fasten his buttons, but his shaky fingers fumbled with the tiny clasps.

Bao Tingyuan swiftly draped his suit jacket over Wen Cishu’s shoulders, buttoned it, then pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Just head upstairs. It’s fine."

His voice always soothed him, so Wen Cishu gave up on the buttons and let himself be carried out of the car.

He rested his head against Bao Tingyuan’s chest, his cheek pressed to his shoulder.

But when he noticed the armband on Bao Tingyuan’s right arm, he almost yelped. "You—"

You had this on all day?!

Wen Cishu shuddered at the thought—thankfully, he’d kept his jacket on at dinner. Otherwise…

He might’ve dived into the hotpot.

The first-floor hall was brightly lit.

When Uncle Xu approached, Wen Cishu quickly pretended to be asleep.

—Amitabha, please, please let Uncle Xu miss the armband.

Bao Tingyuan went along with it, gesturing to Uncle Xu that Wen Cishu was asleep and to stay quiet.

Uncle Xu was a master at reading the room and naturally said nothing, though his eyes flickered backward.

Bao Tingyuan said softly, "Yi Ming went back to stay with my father for the night."

Uncle Xu understood and nodded in relief, gesturing for him to go upstairs.

-

The second-floor bedroom.

Wen Cishu had intended to step down, but Bao Tingyuan held him tightly in place.

His fingers slipped beneath the armband and tugged firmly. "President Bao, what are you doing?"

Bao Tingyuan jerked his chin toward the walk-in closet.

Wen Cishu: ??

—Danger!

"It's late. I need to get cleaned up and go to bed."

"Mm." Bao Tingyuan carried him straight into the bathroom and set him down, removing the draped suit jacket before folding it over his arm. "I'll go clean up too."

Wen Cishu had thought... he meant to shower together.

He watched the tall, aloof figure leave the bathroom.

—Hah, heartless Bao Tingyuan!

After his shower, Wen Cishu slowly eased the door open to find the man leaning against the wall, waiting.

"Hm?"

Bao Tingyuan turned off the bathroom light, then bent to scoop him up, inhaling his soft fragrance.

They entered the walk-in closet.

When placed before the dressing mirror, Wen Cishu looked up and immediately noticed the intense desire in Bao Tingyuan's eyes. He turned to flee but was firmly restrained.

Bao Tingyuan tugged loose the sash of his robe.

The already half-open garment slipped down, revealing a flushed expanse of fair skin.

In the mirror, Wen Cishu's throat, neck, and collarbones were covered in suggestive marks—tantalizing and impossible to ignore.

He had already seen them while bathing.

But now, under Bao Tingyuan's gaze, it felt entirely different.

His pupils constricted slightly as he tried to push him away with an elbow.

Unmoved, Bao Tingyuan kept his eyes locked on the shy reflection in the mirror and pulled the robe down completely.

As the fabric slid heavily against his skin and fell, Wen Cishu shuddered.

Bao Tingyuan's gaze traced every inch of his exposed skin like a silent caress.

The next moment, Bao Tingyuan lowered his head and kissed his shoulder.

His large, rough palms glided over the delicate skin, raising tiny goosebumps in their wake.

Wen Cishu lowered his trembling lashes, unable to meet his gaze.

Bao Tingyuan, just to spite him, lifted his chin.

In the mirror, the two figures of strikingly different builds leaned against each other.

One was pale, flawless like jade, yet dotted with red marks.

The other was wrapped in a black robe, buttoned up to the neck, radiating stern restraint.

Wen Cishu turned his head slightly, trying to evade his hand.

But Bao Tingyuan pressed closer, his lips grazing Wen Cishu’s ear as he asked, “When you took those photos at noon… were you wearing it?”

Wen Cishu’s mind went blank like lightning, his eyes widening in shock.

“You—I—of course I did!”

Bao Tingyuan raised a brow. “Really?”

The skepticism in his tone was unmistakable.

Blushing and indignant, Wen Cishu drove his elbow into Bao Tingyuan’s chest. “What’s gotten into you?”

Bao Tingyuan kissed the tip of his ear. “Those two photos left no room for other thoughts.”

“Stop talking…”

Wen Cishu’s ears burned under the heat of his voice, turning his face to silence him with his lips.

A whole half-day without a kiss.

Downright criminal.

Bao Tingyuan kissed him back, growing bolder, his palm skimming over jade-smooth skin.

He pulled Wen Cishu onto the sofa.

Amid the heated kiss, Wen Cishu was turned around, his back pressed against Bao Tingyuan’s chest, his legs hooked over the armrests, spread wide.

He tried to close his knees, but Bao Tingyuan’s grip tightened, not letting him.

Wen Cishu’s breathing grew heavier, his gaze locked onto Bao Tingyuan’s left hand as it caressed upward—only then realizing that after his shower, he hadn’t just left his glasses behind, but had even taken off his ring ahead of time.

To make matters worse, Wen Cishu noticed the mirror directly in front of them.

He could hardly believe it, his voice shaky with shock and agitation. “You—you moved the sofa?” He struggled to get down.

Bao Tingyuan held him tighter, his deep voice almost hypnotic as he gazed into the mirror. “Wanna try?”

Just a single glance and two words sent Wen Cishu into a dizzying heat and shallow gasps.

His dry lips pressed together, helpless against the temptation.

…

A sheen of sweat formed at Wen Cishu’s temples, the back of his head resting against Bao Tingyuan’s shoulder. Though shame burned through him, his eyes remained fixed on Bao Tingyuan’s hands.

Sometimes, Bao Tingyuan’s relentless gentleness was its own kind of torture.

When Wen Cishu himself wasn't even aware of his own pounding heart, Bo Tingyuan could always rein in his urges immediately, patiently waiting for him to calm down.

This brief interlude was supposed to be nothing more than an unavoidable delay, yet for them, it somehow became an oddly tender moment—so sweet it made Wen Cishu cling harder.

...

Once the restlessness had settled, Wen Cishu leaned back against Bo Tingyuan’s chest, feeling the strong, even thud of his heartbeat.

It was as if they had felt even closer than before.

Bo Tingyuan’s fingers traced lightly over his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

Wen Cishu was drained but satisfied, though he knew Bo Tingyuan was far from satisfied.

His relentless stamina was truly too much.

Wen Cishu mumbled, "What about you?"

Bo Tingyuan didn’t answer, only guiding his hand to grasp.

Flushing red, Wen Cishu shut his eyes and buried his face against Bo Tingyuan’s chest, burying his head like an ostrich.

Then he suddenly lifted his head. "Isn’t overdoing it unhealthy?"

"Too often?" Bo Tingyuan stroked his hair. "You mean, less than ten times in a decade?"

Wen Cishu: "..."

He pressed his face back into Bo Tingyuan’s chest and grumbled, "You can’t cram a decade’s worth at once. It must be bad for you."

Bo Tingyuan pinched his cheek. "Mm, I’ll have the kitchen make me some tonic soup tomorrow."

Wen Cishu: *Now he’s just being absurd!*

Mischievously, he tightened his grip.

"Tch—"

Bo Tingyuan let out a slow, warm sigh against his ear—low and rough.

Wen Cishu frowned. *Huh? Wait—did he just enjoy that?*

By the time they returned to bed, it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet.

-

Both their phones showed missed calls.

"Yi Ming!"

Wen Cishu was surprised—the brat had actually called.

Neither of his dads had picked up. What kind of parents were they?

Bo Tingyuan pulled him back as he bolted upright. "Relax, I’ve got it."

Wen Cishu: "Speakerphone."

The moment the call connected, there was dead air on the other end.

The two dads looked at each other. Bao Tingyuan asked, "Yi Ming?"

Still no response.

Wen Cishu also called out, "Sweetheart?"

"Hmm~"

An icy tone, representing Bao Yiming's deep annoyance at being ignored.

Bao Tingyuan explained, "Yi Ming, your Little Dad and I were just taking a shower earlier and missed your call."

Wen Cishu fought the urge to cover his ears.

However, Bao Yiming was more understanding than he expected. With a reasonable explanation, he bought the explanation.

"Okay~ Little Dad, you'd better miss me tonight, okay?"

Wen Cishu immediately jumped at the chance to express affection: "Of course, I’ll miss you so much, baby."

Bao Tingyuan gave him a sidelong look upon hearing his suddenly sickeningly sweet voice.

Wen Cishu silently mouthed back: What? Our son—shouldn’t I be the one comforting him?

He kept talking for a bit longer before hanging up.

The moment the call ended, he let out a relieved sigh. "Good thing Yi Ming didn’t get mad."

Bao Tingyuan moved in closer to him.

Wen Cishu noticed the strange look in his eyes. "Hmm?"

Bao Tingyuan frowned, his fingertips trailing over Wen Cishu’s slightly swollen lips. "Say something to me in that voice you just used?"

"..."

Wen Cishu frowned, swatted his hand away, and turned over to sleep. "No!"

Bao Tingyuan lay flat, pulling Wen Cishu’s hand down firmly.

Wen Cishu turned red and sputtered, "You—you—you—!"

Bao Tingyuan, however, remained calm, as if accustomed to his body’s completely uncontrollable reactions.

His tone was completely serious. "You have to take responsibility for this."

Wen Cishu couldn’t help teasing, "I’m Chinese—I don’t take blame for French problems."

After saying it, even he found it absurd and couldn’t help bursting out laughing.

Bao Tingyuan laughed along.

The two wrapped around each other, like two porcelain spoons nestled intimately side by side.