Swallow Her Alive.

Chapter 33

As the cold air invaded, the temperature in the bathroom dropped a few degrees.

Wen Yicong curled up in the corner, her long hair soaked, sticking to her pale small face and bare slender shoulders. The chill was biting, and with the pain from her knee, her whole body couldn't stop trembling.

Her ankle was grasped by a man's long, powerful fingers. She shuddered and instinctively tried to pull her leg back.

“Don't move.” Two words fell from above, concise and gentle, yet carrying an undeniable tone. “I won't hurt you.”

“...” Wen Yicong was stunned.

At the same time, she felt the five fingers on her ankle soften a bit more, as if he was really afraid of hurting her.

Then, that hand slid up along her calf, steady and unwavering. But the man's palm was rough, the sensation exceptionally clear and sensitive. Every slight movement sent fine shivers up Wen Yicong's spine.

Wen Yicong's cheeks burned fiercely. She could only bite her lip and force herself to stay still.

Soon, the large hand reached her knee, carefully touching the edge of the swollen, broken wound.

Wen Yicong frowned and sucked in a sharp breath of pain.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Mo Shaoshang paused, his brow furrowing into a knot. He asked softly, but his fingers moved with extraordinary gentleness, examining the area around her injury.

“...I can bear it.” Wen Yicong answered with a trembling voice.

“It's okay, the bone isn't injured.”

As he spoke, Mo Shaoshang reached out, grabbed a clean bath towel from the rack, fumbled with his fingertips, and draped it over Wen Yicong, wrapping her tightly from the shoulders down.

Her body warmed up, and her senses became sharper.

Wen Yicong's ears felt like they were on fire.

Although she knew he didn't mean it, these movements made his fingertips almost inevitably brush against her shoulder blades, arms, neck...

It was really too intimate.

After wrapping her up, Mo Shaoshang put his arm around her shoulder in a supportive gesture and asked again, “Can you stand up by yourself?”

Hearing this, Wen Yicong moved slightly and tried. But as soon as she exerted force, a piercing pain shot through her knee wound, making her break out in cold sweat.

No choice, Wen Yicong could only shake her head.

After shaking, she remembered that this man was blindfolded and couldn't see, so she had to add in a low voice, “It seems I can't.”

The next second, the world spun.

Mo Shaoshang directly lifted her horizontally into his arms.

Wen Yicong was shocked and let out a low cry. The momentary fear of weightlessness made her instinctively reach out and grab the fabric of his shirt. The touch of muscle and texture under the cloth was distinct, firm and warm, burning her fingertips until they trembled.

She wanted to let go, but was afraid of falling, caught in a dilemma.

The bath towel barely covered the girl's plump and light body. Water droplets dripped down her calves, leaving dark wet marks on the man's trousers.

Their body heat exchanged, their breaths mingled.

“Mr. Mo!” Wen Yicong called out in panic, reminding him, “You're blindfolded and can't see, I'd better walk by myself...”

Mo Shaoshang tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow: “Didn't you say you can't walk?”

Wen Yicong was choked, finally understanding what it meant to shoot herself in the foot—if she had known his solution was to carry her, she would have shown the spirit of perseverance despite disability, standing on one leg and hopping out...

Wen Yicong's mind was in a mess, thoughts racing.

Before she could respond, Mo Shaoshang had already carried her out of the bathroom, walking steadily through the large, cold, and clean bedroom space to the side of the big bed. Then he bent down and gently placed her on the edge of the bed.

Finally freed from his arms, Wen Yicong's taut nerves relaxed slightly. After sitting steady, she quickly moved, trying to distance herself from him.

“Sit for a moment.”

Mo Shaoshang said flatly, then straightened up and walked to a cabinet on one side of the bedroom.

Although blindfolded, he was clearly extremely familiar with the entire space. His long fingers slid down the cabinet door a few centimeters, found a drawer, pulled it open, and accurately took out a white medical kit.

A few seconds later, he returned to the bedside and placed the medical kit aside.

“Can you help me?” Suddenly, Mo Shaoshang said.

Wen Yicong looked at him, a hint of vigilance and defense in her eyes, and asked hesitantly, “What?”

Then she saw the man's beautiful thin lips open and close elegantly, saying, “Open the medical kit, take out the disinfectant, cotton swabs, and gauze.”

“...Okay.” Wen Yicong quickly opened the medical kit, took out a few items, and handed them over. “Here, take them.”

Her tone was honest and obedient. Even with his eyes covered, Mo Shaoshang could imagine the cute expression on the girl's face when she said this.

He curled his lips very lightly, then bent one long leg and knelt on one knee.

Wen Yicong raised her eyes.

Mo Shaoshang's figure was already tall, and kneeling on one knee brought his line of sight level with hers. So, even though he was blindfolded, it seemed as if he was silently watching her.

Wen Yicong's heart tightened.

The next moment, Mo Shaoshang grasped her injured leg's ankle, lifted it slightly, and placed her leg on his bent knee.

The lifting of her leg caused the hem of the bath towel to slide open more.

Wen Yicong noticed, and her whole face flushed bright red in an instant. She fumbled to grab the bath towel, trying to cover the skin of her thigh exposed to the air.

As soon as she moved, her slender wrist was pressed down by a large hand.

“I need to treat your wound.” Mo Shaoshang's voice sounded calm and gentle, with a soothing tone. “You may feel pain or other discomfort; that's normal. Be good and bear with it for a while, okay?”

Wen Yicong lightly bit her lip, hesitated as if wanting to argue, but finally remained silent.

She twisted her wrist slightly.

The fingers holding her finally let go.

Sure that the injured girl wouldn't move again, Mo Shaoshang's attention returned to her wound. He said again, “Take a few cotton swabs and dip them in disinfectant.”

Wen Yicong reacted and quickly did as told.

After dipping, she hesitated, holding the swabs in front of her, and tentatively said, “You're blindfolded and can't see, it's not easy to operate. How about I do it myself?”

“Just disinfecting the wound doesn't require complicated operations.” Mo Shaoshang's tone was as usual. He took the cotton swabs from her hand, then leaned down slightly, approaching her bare white leg. His fingertips fumbled for a moment, confirming, “Is the wound here?”

The skin on her leg was delicate and sensitive. When his fingers touched it, she couldn't help but tremble all over.

Wen Yicong took a deep breath, exhaled, and answered, “Mm.”

The cotton swab gently fell.

The swab was soaked with disinfectant, wet, soft, and cold, touching the wound. Suddenly, a sharp pain hit. Wen Yicong winced and instinctively retracted her leg.

But Mo Shaoshang held it steady.

“It'll be over soon.” He said softly, while moving even more gently.

He carefully cleaned off the blood and possible water stains, applied ointment, and skillfully bandaged the wound with gauze.

Throughout the process, Wen Yicong kept her teeth clenched, enduring with effort.

It wasn't that it hurt much. In fact, Mo Shaoshang's movements were extremely gentle. Apart from the sting when the disinfectant first covered the wound, she hardly felt any pain during the whole process.

What she was enduring was the itch and flutter every time he touched her skin...

Wen Yicong's face grew redder, her body hotter. She kept breathing in and out, trying desperately to calm herself.

To distract herself, she looked at the man's two large hands with strong, slender fingers.

Mo Shaoshang's wound treatment was very skilled and efficient. It could even be called pleasing to the eye.

In just a few minutes, the wound on her knee was already bandaged.

Seeing him tie a knot in the gauze, Wen Yicong's suspended heart finally settled a bit. She tried to pull her leg back, wanting to take it off his body.

But a force came from her ankle.

Wen Yicong was stunned.

Sensing her intention to escape, the man's fingers tightened, holding her ankle again.

“...”

The air around suddenly fell silent.

So silent that only two breathing sounds remained, close at hand, faintly interweaving.

Wen Yicong's heart skipped several beats. In her field of vision, Mo Shaoshang still maintained the kneeling position. His tie covered his deep, cold, and fierce brows and eyes, adding a few traces of an ascetic aura to his handsome face.

Even though the tie separated them, even though she couldn't see his eyes, Wen Yicong had an illusion.

It was as if she could feel his gaze, blazing and direct, burning through the layer of fabric, staring at her intensely.

Tick, tock, time passed quietly.

Just then, the man's thumb pad touched the protruding joint of her ankle, and then, extremely slowly, rubbed it.

Wen Yicong's whole body stiffened. A strong numbing sensation shot up from the point he touched, straight to the top of her head.

She even curled her toes tightly.

“...Is it done?” She tried to speak, not knowing if it was shame or fear, her trailing tone faintly trembling.

Mo Shaoshang didn't speak. He just slowly released her ankle, then his fingertips slowly slid upward, brushing over her snow-white leg,

her slender waist wrapped in the bath towel,

her delicate, wet collarbone, and stopped in front of her cheek.

A hair's breadth away.

He seemed to want to touch her.

Wen Yicong's heart pounded like thunder, her eyelashes fluttering incessantly, almost holding her breath.

After who knows how long, the man's hand dropped.

“Rest early.” Mo Shaoshang spoke, his voice noticeably hoarser than before. “Don't let the wound touch water again. If it doesn't improve by tomorrow, I'll have a doctor come.”

He paused here, then added, “There are pajamas prepared for you in the wardrobe.”

After saying that, Mo Shaoshang prepared to leave.

Wen Yicong sat on the edge of the bed, wanting to speak but stopping. After a few seconds of hesitation, she suddenly spoke, “Thank you. Really.”

The man's tall, straight back suddenly stopped.

The air was silent.

After a moment, Mo Shaoshang turned his head and took a deep breath, exhaling.

Why did she have to speak?

Why did she let him hear her voice, so pleasant, so sweet, like a hook dipped in honey, like a kitten's claws, wantonly scratching at the edge of his crumbling reason.

Why did she tempt him again and again?

Didn't she know that every minute and every second tonight, he had been enduring?

Enduring desperately.

Minutes ago, he had just returned from handling business outside when he heard her cry of pain from the bathroom.

Realizing she had an accident, he was anxious and distressed, instinctively wanting to rush in to check her injuries. But she stopped him.

Through the door, the young girl's trembling voice came out, mixed with sobs, pitiful, telling him in an almost pleading tone that she wasn't dressed, begging him not to come near.

At that second, Mo Shaoshang's whole body nearly exploded.

A surging desire was churning, clamoring, like a tsunami that could destroy all towering mountains and giant steel beasts, wave after wave crashing over, almost collapsing his reason.

But he held back.

He suppressed himself with all his might, restrained himself, afraid of being abrupt and scaring her. He even blindfolded himself with his tie.

But what use was it?

No matter how well he disguised himself, a beast was still a beast. Stripped of his decent skin, every thought in his heart about her was dirty and crazy. Yet also incredibly addictive.

Did she know how hard he was enduring?

Clearly, the moment he heard her sobbing, he was already excited to the point of trembling.

Clearly, during the few minutes of treating her wound, his mind had already changed positions and fucked her hundreds of times in various ways.

And now?

He had finally suppressed the beast inside, convinced himself to let her go, and she spoke again.

She recklessly opened her mouth, with her soft and sweet voice, gently saying: Thank you.

Thank? Thank with what.

How many times had she said this sentence, what meaning did it have?

What he truly went crazy for, would she dare to give?

Mo Shaoshang stood still for a moment, then raised his hand, hooked the tie on his face, pulled it off lightly, and threw it on the floor.

He turned around.

Those blue-black eyes were no longer covered, completely exposed under the warm yellow light of the bedroom.

The calm deep sea that was usually unruffled was long gone. What surged in those eyes now was undisguised addiction and almost ferocious possessiveness.

Dark fire burned in the depths of his pupils. His gaze was like a poisonous snake's tongue, like a beast that had been hungry too long, finally locking onto its coveted prey.

Burning, explicit.

With an aggressiveness that wanted to devour her alive, it scraped inch by inch over her body under the bath towel.

This appearance in Wen Yicong's eyes made her heart suddenly contract. Seeking advantage and avoiding harm was the instinct of all living things. She shrank back, frantically gathering the slipping edge of the bath towel, trying to cover herself more securely.

It seemed only then could she feel a trace of safety.

“You...” Wen Yicong opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but her voice got stuck in her throat. She could only watch helplessly as Mo Shaoshang strode back to the bedside, watching helplessly as she was completely enveloped by his shadow.

Mo Shaoshang leaned down, one hand pinching her chin, his thumb pad rubbing back and forth on the soft flesh of her chin, intimate and ambiguous enough to make her heart tremble.

Wen Yicong's breath tightened. Her ten fingernails deeply dug into her palms. She tilted her head, trying to dodge, but felt the fingers on her chin increase in force, with an unshakable control.

Then, the man slowly lowered his head, leaned close to her, forcing her to look into his deep-sea eyes.

“Teacher Wen.” His blue-black eyes locked onto her directly, like an abyss inviting a fall. His voice was low and hoarse, like a whisper. “What are you going to use to thank me?”

Wen Yicong's earlobes went numb from his whisper. Flustered and scared, her mind went blank, unable to say anything.

She could only passively feel.

Feel the force of his fingers on her chin, feel the slightly disordered breathing in his voice, feel the clear cedar scent on him growing stronger, tainted with dangerous and restless heat.

Wen Yicong's lips moved twice, but before she could make any sound,

his kiss came down overwhelmingly.

There was no tentative meaning, nor was it gentle at all. This kiss was similar to the one earlier in the Underground Cellar of Mo Manor—both were frenzied and violent, sweeping with long-suppressed possessiveness.

His thin lips pressed fiercely against hers. It was a kiss, but more like devouring.

His tongue pried open her teeth, drove straight in, his tongue tip wantonly entangled hers, teased her, sucked all the breath and whimpers from her mouth.

Continuous burning invasion, unceasing deepening, not allowing her to resist, not allowing her to avoid, even depriving her of her ability to breathe and think completely.

“Mm... no... Mo Sha...”

Wen Yicong was caught off guard. Her hands pressed against Mo Shaoshang's firm chest, trying to push him away, but it was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot, unable to budge him at all.

His arms wrapped around her waist like iron hoops, pressing her firmly. One hand moved from her chin to the back of her neck, fixing her head that tried to dodge, kissing her deeper.

Wen Yicong was suffocating.

Between the interlocking lips and tongues was his uncontrolled force, with a slight sting and a burning sensation like fire. But strangely, amidst this storm of abuse, a trace of palpitation was mixed in.

Indescribable, inexplicable, unspeakable.

In the chaos, at some point, his breath had invaded her senses. The coldness of frosty jade mixed with the heat of male hormones. Everything made Wen Yicong dizzy.

Lack of oxygen drained her strength to resist. Her head was groggy, her body soft as water.

The bath towel completely loosened and slipped off during the struggle.

Wen Yicong let out a cry, but was kissed even more fiercely by Mo Shaoshang.

He swallowed her helpless exclamation. His palm was hot, stroking her bare arms and neck. The calluses on his thumb pad roamed wantonly over her skin, arousing wave after wave of uncontrollable light tremors.

The kiss was not limited to her lips.

Like tidewater gradually soaking the beach, his lips and tongue spread from her lips to her jaw, then to her sensitive earlobe, the side of her neck...

He kissed fiercely and wildly, like a beast marking its mate, using this way to imprint his exclusive brand on her body.

The tide of passion was intense and sudden. Wen Yicong was unprepared, struck until her whole body went limp. The unfamiliar and strong sensory stimulation, coupled with lack of oxygen, made her initial shock and fear begin to dissipate, gradually turning into a powerless dizziness.

Her small hands also forgot to resist, only able to grip the fabric of his shirt on his chest.

Mo Shaoshang instantly caught the softening of the delicate body in his arms.

This subtle change was like a spark falling into an oil barrel, instantly igniting a fiercer flame.

A low, hoarse grunt came from the man's throat. His arms tightened, pressing her completely down onto the soft big bed. His heavy body covered her, completely imprisoning her.

Kiss after kiss, continuous and dense.

Along the girl's elegant neck line, he sprayed hot breath on her collarbone, leaving wet kiss marks on her heart area...

Suddenly, a chill hit her chest. Wen Yicong's chaotic thoughts had a moment of clarity.

Her misty eyes refocused. She tried to make a sound: “...Mo Shaoshang, don't be like this...”

This voice was so delicate it could squeeze out water, carrying sobs and grievance, broken.

At that second, Mo Shaoshang's movements suddenly stopped. He lifted his face.

In the darkness, the man's blue-black eyes shone astonishingly bright, like a beast that had seized its prey, never stopping until death.

His eyelids drooped slightly, looking down from above at the naked girl in his arms.

Looking at her moist eyes, her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, and those dazed and helpless eyes, faintly stained with the mist of desire.

The string of reason was pulled wildly at the edge of snapping.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead against her shoulder. His heavy breath sprayed into her neck hollow.

The soft warmth beneath him was the feast he had dreamed of.

With just one more step, he could devour her alive.

But that broken soft call, like a thin but sharp ice pick, pierced into Mo Shaoshang's nerves.

If he continued, he might completely scare her.

But it seemed he couldn't stop anymore.

----------------------- Author's note: Random 100 red packets.