I Want You

Chapter 34. The air in the room was mixed with moisture, damp and hot. Wen Yicong's face was red, her neck and ears were red, and her eyes were red too.

Her usually clear eyes were full of mist, wet, dazed and unfocused, her chest heaving violently, her whole body trembling slightly, completely swallowed by his presence. Mo Shaoshang narrowed his eyes, the desire in his blue-black eyes not yet faded, but with a few more layers of complex and obscure darkness.

He wanted her. This thought had sprouted from the depths of his mind the first time he saw her. Later, she moved into the Manor House and became Airi's teacher, spending every day with Airi.

And his unknown desires began to grow stronger with time. The lips that parted when she spoke, the dimples on her cheeks when she smiled, even the frequency of her eyelashes fluttering when she was daydreaming in the sunlight—all were like hooks dipped in honey and blood, seducing him, tempting him.

Drawing him step by step toward her, making him fall into an abyss of no return. Mo Shaoshang stared straight at the girl in his arms, his fingers moving slightly, gently stroking her lips.

The two soft cloud-like lips had already been ravaged to redness and swelling. The snow-white side of her neck, the delicate skin of her chest... everywhere were the kiss marks he had left.

One more step, and she would be his. One more step, and he could enter her body, completely possess her, fiercely cherish her.

Do whatever he wanted, do everything he desired. But she didn't want to. This girl who drove him crazy sobbed softly under his deep kiss, whimpering no, pitiful and helpless, like a young fawn that had accidentally fallen into a beast's lair.

Mo Shaoshang lowered his head, pressed closer to her, gazed deeper at her. His fingertips gently traced her reddened eye corners.

At that moment, a drop of water seeped from her eyes, just wetting his finger. '...' His Adam's apple rolled violently for a moment.

Mo Shaoshang closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the intense madness in his eyes was finally suppressed a little. He turned his head away, at the same time pulled a bath towel, wrapped her fair and full body in his arms, picked her up, and walked to the dressing table.

Wen Yicong was still in shock, not yet recovered from the storm a few minutes ago. Feeling him suddenly pick her up, she couldn't help but cry out, instinctively reaching out her arms to hug his neck.

'You...' she said, both ashamed and confused, her voice hoarse and out of tune, questioning him, 'What are you going to do again?' Mo Shaoshang said nothing, just bent down and placed her on the chair. After making sure she could sit steadily on her own, he straightened up, casually pulled open the drawer on the left side of the cabinet, and then... took out a hairdryer?

Huh? Wen Yicong's eyes flickered, she blinked in surprise, a bit dazed. Realizing what he intended to do, she instinctively said, 'I can do it myself...' Before she finished, Mo Shaoshang had already plugged in the hairdryer.

With a click, the hairdryer was turned on, on low speed. The sound of the current was faint and gentle. Then, warm air fell along with the man's long fingers.

Mo Shaoshang walked around behind her, one hand lifting her layers of hair, the other holding the hairdryer, moving slowly from roots to ends, meticulous and gentle. The buzzing faint current sound circled in her ears.

The warm air brushed her skin, bringing a soothing warmth. Wen Yicong sat stiffly on the chair, not daring to move, only feeling stunned.

His fingers threaded through her hair, careful, gentle, patient, as if treating a fragile treasure. It was as if the person who had pinned her down on the bed and kissed her violently a few minutes ago was not the same person at all.

Wen Yicong was bewildered. If not for the numbness and sting of her lips being so clear, she would even suspect that the kiss just now was just a dream...

The room was extremely quiet. Only the low hum of the hairdryer and the almost imperceptible rustle of his fingers passing through her hair.

The air was filled with the fragrance of her hair and the cold scent of cedar from his body. The two scents blended together, strangely harmonious.

The atmosphere was peaceful. The previous kiss had already consumed most of Wen Yicong's energy. Now, with Mo Shaoshang standing behind her drying her hair, his movements gentle, his fingertips occasionally brushing against her ear and the back of her neck, causing subtle throbs and tingles.

In such an environment, Wen Yicong's mind relaxed, and she even felt drowsy. After an unknown amount of time, the girl's thick long hair was half dry.

Mo Shaoshang turned off the hairdryer, and the room fell into a soft silence. Sensing that the sound of current and wind in her ears had disappeared, Wen Yicong's mind instantly cleared.

Thinking it was over, she was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she suddenly felt a tightness around her waist. The man's arm wrapped around her.

Then, Wen Yicong only had time to let out a soft cry before she was lifted from the soft chair by Mo Shaoshang. In the blink of an eye, when she came to her senses, the man had already sat down in her seat, without a word, and placed her directly on his lap.

'...' Wen Yicong's eyes widened in shock. She was in his arms, facing him, separated only by a thin bath towel, pressed tightly together.

Wen Yicong froze completely. In her panic, her hands instinctively pressed against his chest. Through the thin layer of his shirt, she could clearly feel the warmth of his body under her fingertips, and the firm, lean muscle lines...

What was even more disconcerting was that Wen Yicong was horrified to find that she was almost trapped in the man's embrace. His legs were very long, and his figure was too tall; her feet were forced apart, hanging on either side of his knees, unable to touch the ground.

Because of this posture, the huge difference in their sizes was fully displayed. She was completely enveloped by him, like prey trapped in the arms of a large beast, with no way to avoid or escape.

A shiver ran up Wen Yicong's spine, mingling with shame, unease, and a trace of indescribable fear. 'Let me go,' she said, her face reddening, glaring at him in a low voice.

'Your hair isn't dry yet,' the man's voice fell lightly from above, his tone as calm as water, but his arm firmly encircled her soft waist, trapping her. 'This is more convenient.' After hearing this man's words, Wen Yicong almost choked.

This was for convenience in drying her hair? Don't be ridiculous. She was flustered and panicked, instinctively twisting her body to escape, but as soon as she moved, she felt the arm around her waist suddenly tighten.

Her chin was pinched by two long fingers and lifted up. Her panicked eyes met a pair of blue-black eyes. Wen Yicong was suddenly startled.

At such close distance, she could clearly see the undercurrents surging in the man's eyes, his pupils dark and dangerous. Mo Shaoshang stared at her, his voice deep and unusually calm: 'Don't move.' '...' Wen Yicong realized something, her face instantly flushed bright red, and her body froze.

The hairdryer was turned on again, and the faint buzzing sound resumed. Wind blew over, strands of air brushing against the hair on Wen Yicong's forehead.

Whether it was the warm air from the hairdryer or the man's breath, she didn't know. Because of the earlier warning, she sat with her back straight, eyes lowered, looking at her nose and heart, not daring to move.

But this distance was too close. So close it made her heart race. All senses were magnified infinitely. In his arms, she could see the slight rise and fall of his chest with each breath, could smell the increasingly clear cold cedar scent on him.

She could also feel, when he bent his head to focus on her hair, his jaw inadvertently brushing against her forehead. The sharp jawline, the almost imperceptible stubble, scraping back and forth across her delicate forehead skin, numb and ticklish.

Wen Yicong took a deep breath, feeling her face hot and her body hot. She closed her eyes and forced herself to think of other things to distract herself.

Lin Ke had said that Mo Shaoshang was afraid she wouldn't sleep well on the plane, so he had temporarily decided to return to Jinggang City tomorrow instead. That way, even if they left early tomorrow morning, they would arrive in Jinggang City around noon.

Wouldn't that delay Airi's morning class tomorrow? She would have to find time later to make up the lesson for the little one...

Wen Yicong's mind was full of scattered thoughts. Just then, the man's big hand combed through her hair again. Probably because of the angle, as he moved, the inside of his wrist would occasionally, almost imperceptibly, brush against her cheek or earlobe.

Once, then again. Wen Yicong's attention was pulled back to reality. Her cheeks were burning, and her heart was beating so fast it felt like it would burst out of her chest.

Not daring to look up, she had to steel herself and look straight ahead. Her line of sight fell on Mo Shaoshang's open collar, a small patch of collarbone skin exposed, faintly revealing a corner of a black tattoo.

Further up was his protruding Adam's apple, with continuous undulating lines, occasionally rolling, looking beautiful, elegant, and sensual. Wen Yicong stared at the man's Adam's apple in front of her, suddenly lost in thought.

A strange idea popped into her mind: what would it feel like to bite it... 'What are you looking at?' Suddenly, a clear, cold voice fell again, very close to her ear, wrapped in a hint of breath directly into her ear canal.

'...' Wen Yicong came back to her senses, remembering her absurd thought, and felt both embarrassed and guilty. She shook her head and answered very softly, 'Nothing, I wasn't looking at anything.' Hearing this, Mo Shaoshang curled his lips slightly, let out a very light laugh, the laughter vibrating in his chest, passing through several thin layers of fabric to her body pressed against his.

Wen Yicong was suspicious, moved her lips, wanting to ask what he was laughing at. But before she could make a sound, she saw Mo Shaoshang turn off the power, casually toss the hairdryer aside, and wrap his arm around her waist again.

Then, he tightened it, pressing her closer to him. This move was beyond Wen Yicong's expectations. She panicked, instantly held her breath, and curled her fingertips against his chest.

She also involuntarily leaned her neck back, trying to increase the distance between them. The warm air from the hairdryer disappeared.

Replaced by the man's warm, strong fingers. 'You have a lot of hair,' Mo Shaoshang said flatly. 'If you don't comb it out, it will tangle easily.' After hearing this, Wen Yicong's eyes flickered, and she didn't respond.

Then, Mo Shaoshang held her in his arms, using his fingers as a comb to comb the hair at the back of her neck and around her ears. The two of them cuddled intimately.

This posture, as he had said, indeed provided convenience for him, allowing him to easily reach every part of her. At the same time, it also left her nowhere to hide.

The man's fingers occasionally brushed against her scalp, the side of her neck, and her delicate, burning earlobes. Every patch of skin he touched felt like countless tiny sparks crawling over it.

Wen Yicong couldn't help but lightly bite her lower lip. Uncomfortable. An indescribable discomfort. Wen Yicong's whole body was hot and restless, extremely uncomfortable.

In the closed, warm bedroom space, time was stretched unbearably long, every second soaked in his presence and this thrilling intimate contact. In a daze, Wen Yicong even had an illusion.

She felt as if she were sitting on a burning fire, or floating in a suffocating deep sea. Shame, panic, and a trace of hot throbbing intertwined into a spider web, enveloping and binding her, airtight, almost robbing her of the ability to think.

After an unknown amount of time, so long that every strand of her hair had been combed smooth and obedient, the man's fingers finally left. Her hair was finally dry, returning to its usual fluffy and smooth state.

Mo Shaoshang was satisfied with his work, a lazy curve lifting the corner of his mouth. Then he moved his fingertips again, twirling a strand of her hair that carried a sweet fragrance, slowly turning and winding it.

His other hand slid down the back of her head, his palm pressing against the back of her neck. 'Teacher Wen,' he called her softly, his voice gentle and calm, pulling back a little distance to signal her to look up.

Wen Yicong's eyelashes fluttered a few times, and she raised her eyes to meet the man's gaze. He was looking down at her, his blue-black eyes reflecting the light of the wall lamp, deep as a whirlpool, surging with turbulent undercurrents.

She didn't know what those undercurrents meant, only instinctively felt danger. After a moment, Mo Shaoshang's gaze slowly moved down, passing over her wet, panicked eyes, her crimson, delicate cheeks, and finally landing on her two soft lips.

The big hand on the back of her neck moved and came around. His fingertip, with a thin callus, gently stroked her lower lip, carrying a certain implication.

'Actually, that time I kissed you in the Mo Manor Cellar, I already discovered,' Mo Shaoshang lightly pinched his fingertips, idly playing with her hair, his thin lips close to her, his tone casual, 'You don't dislike my touch, on the contrary, you like it.' 'Right, Teacher Wen?' When the words landed, Wen Yicong's heart instantly stirred up a storm.

Her pupils contracted sharply, and her hands pressed against his chest unconsciously clenched, grabbing the fabric of his shirt. 'I don't, don't talk nonsense...' she said incoherently, clearly wanting to deny it, but her voice was weak and trembling, utterly unconvincing.

He said she didn't dislike his touch, on the contrary, she liked it. Liked it? For a moment, Wen Yicong's heart was in turmoil.

The uncontrollable shivers when he touched her, the throbbing that sprouted from hidden corners and she dared not examine, were now exposed by this man in a very direct way, with nowhere to hide. A strong sense of shame came crashing down, almost drowning Wen Yicong.

Her lips moved several times, as if she wanted to refute or argue something, but in the end, she didn't utter a single word. Opposite her, Mo Shaoshang didn't speak, just looked at her calmly.

The arm around her waist didn't loosen, forcing her to stay tightly pressed against his chest. Wen Yicong's mind was as chaotic as her heart.

Her face was already hot to the point of numbness, and her small earlobes were tinged with a beautiful pink. She tried to move her body, but the next second, she was held even tighter on his lap, locked firmly.

'You know, your body is more honest than your mouth.' Mo Shaoshang lowered his head, his thin lips almost touching her burning ear, his voice low and hoarse, his tone soft, with a hint of coaxing, 'When I touch your ear.' As he spoke, his fingertip lightly traced the sensitive area behind her ear, 'You tremble.' 'When I kiss you.' His finger continued downward, hovering above her heart through the bath towel, 'Your heartbeat exceeds the normal frequency.' 'And...' 'Stop it!' Wen Yicong was ashamed and furious, interrupting him, raising her hand to cover his mouth.

But the next second, her wrist was caught by Mo Shaoshang. He closed his fingers, his thumb rubbing against her delicate skin, staring straight at her, 'Why can't I say it?' 'Mr.

Mo, this is wrong between us.' Wen Yicong took a deep breath, finally gathering the courage to continue, 'You are Airi's guardian, you are my employer, I am just a teacher you hired... Our family backgrounds, upbringing, outlook on life and values are all completely different, like people living in two different worlds.' When the words landed, the room fell silent for a moment.

After a long while, Mo Shaoshang slightly parted his thin lips and said flatly, 'What you said does objectively exist.' '...Yes,' Wen Yicong nodded. 'I'm glad you understand.' 'But what conflict does that have with me wanting you?' '...'