God - Chapter 29
{29} Help Me Take It Off
Zhou Sui had already shed her down jacket when she entered the apartment, leaving her in just a white sweater and jeans. The denim clung tightly to her slender legs, the fabric straining against the soft cleft between her thighs.
Xing Ming’s fingers traced the seam, his voice thick and rough, laced with a husky undertone: "Don’t wear them this tight again."
"Why n—ah!" The moment she opened her mouth to ask, his fingers pressed hard against that sensitive spot. She gasped sharply, jerking back, but he hauled her flush against him, his grip unyielding. His tongue dragged along the shell of her ear, his voice a dark murmur: "Be good."
A shiver raced down her spine, her voice trembling. "...Okay."
He chuckled, the vibration rumbling through his chest. With one hand, he yanked her sweater off, revealing a black tank top beneath. His arms were corded with muscle, his chest broad enough to stretch the fabric taut. His eyes locked onto hers as he caught the neckline between his teeth and pulled it off in one smooth motion.
Just that single movement was enough to make Zhou Sui’s breath hitch.
Last time, in the dark, she hadn’t been able to see his body clearly. But now, under the light, every inch of him was on display—his skin sun-darkened, his torso a map of scars both large and small. A gunshot wound bloomed like a twisted flower on the right side of his chest, a fifteen-centimeter stitched scar like a centipede crawling across his abdomen, and a fresher bullet wound marred his shoulder.
Her fingers hovered over the marks, her voice soft. "Can’t you… do something else for work?"
"Zhou Sui." He stroked her hair. "You know why I noticed you in the first place?"
"Because I’m pretty?" She tried to joke, but her eyes were already reddening. She didn’t know what Xing Ming had been through to carry so many scars—or why he was still doing something so dangerous.
Xing Ming brushed his thumb along her cheek, his smile faint, something shadowed lurking in his gaze. "I used to have a little sister."
Seeing his expression darken, Zhou Sui instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Twelve years old." He rested his chin on her shoulder, his voice low. "Loved yellow dresses. Loved rainy days. Loved orange lollipops."
"What… happened to her?" Zhou Sui whispered.
"You don’t want to know." His hand kneaded the nape of her neck.
A tear slipped free. "Xing Ming..."
He kissed it away. "Why are you crying?"
"You’re doing this… for her?" Before she could finish, he sealed her mouth with his, his tongue sliding against hers in a deep, claiming kiss. His hand closed over hers, guiding it to his belt buckle, his voice rough in the heated air between them:
"Help me take it off."
Zhou Sui fumbled with his belt, unzipped his pants, and peeled them off him.
Tears still clung to her lashes. When she looked up, her eyes were dark and glistening, innocent as a fawn’s.
Xing Ming gripped her chin and kissed her fiercely, one hand working her jeans open while the other stripped off her sweater. He hoisted her up, carrying her under the shower spray.
The heater was already on, filling the room with warmth. Zhou Sui straddled his lap, looking down at him. Her fingers traced his neck—where she’d bitten him hard enough to draw blood, leaving behind a row of teeth marks.
She leaned down and licked the wound.
The moment her pink tongue grazed the broken skin, Xing Ming seized the back of her neck and slammed her against the tiled wall. His breath was ragged as he devoured her mouth, his kiss relentless.
She gasped into him, her fingers tangling in his short hair, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.
"Xing Ming..."
He nipped at her tongue. "Mm?"
"I lied." She arched into him, kissing him back just as fiercely. "I missed you so much."
A low laugh rumbled in his chest before he captured her lips again, even more possessive this time.
"Me too."
***
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