The Husky and His White Cat Shizun by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou
- Language: English
- Genre:Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
This Venerable One’s Past Affair with You
WHEN MO RAN AWOKE, it was already bright, and the sun was high
in the sky. He rolled over and blinked—to his surprise, Chu Wanning was
still fast asleep.
Perhaps it was the effect of the Tapir Fragrance Dew, or perhaps it
was because of his poor health of late along with bouts of fitful sleep
troubled by dreams, that he was still deep in slumber even at this hour. His
back was turned to Mo Ran, and long, inky hair spilled loose across pillow
and bed, its strands the color of the night.
Mo Ran eyed him.
If the teacher hadn’t yet risen, there was no reason for the student to
be particularly industrious. The bed was too comfortable; he might as well
stay in it a little longer. But just lying there was boring, so Mo Ran
scooched closer and began to play with Chu Wanning’s hair.
Chu Wanning’s hair always smelled faintly of flowers. Soft as smoke,
fine as mist; it was one of Mo Ran’s favorite things to touch. He combed his
fingers through those misty strands. The feel of them, smooth as satin
wrapped around his fingers, made his insides tingle. A breeze swept
through the window, and the dark, patterned bed curtains drifted gently in
its wake.
Mo Ran narrowed his eyes. Certain parts of him were especially
energetic in the morning, and with such a pleasant sensation at his
fingertips, one that was so familiar, so…
He lifted a lock of Chu Wanning’s hair to his nose and inhaled. Those
long, soft strands called to mind scenes from the bygone past. Since his
rebirth, Mo Ran had tried his best not to think too much about the more
salacious portions of his history with Chu Wanning. But for some reason,
this morning, he felt like indulging in reminiscence. His throat felt a little
dry. He didn’t want to touch Chu Wanning’s body anymore, but his hair
should be fine. Mo Ran closed his eyes and pressed his lips lightly to the
inky darkness between his fingers. This inky darkness…
Back then, at Sisheng Peak’s Wushan Palace, this same inky darkness
had fallen around Mo Ran like a curtain. He had held that man’s slender
waist in his hands, the feeling of lean muscle beneath his fingers so
different from that of a woman.
Chu Wanning straddled Mo Ran’s hips and worked himself up and
down. It must have hurt; his sharp brows were drawn tightly together, and
motes of light glistened in those phoenix eyes tinged a vivid red by ferocity
and despair. He was so resentful, so unwilling, yet so helplessly pitiful.
Exulting in his victory, Mo Ran made his demands, his voice steady
yet not without malice. “Faster.”
No reply.
“Are you tired already? You’re moving so slowly.”
But even like this, Chu Wanning’s ironclad will was firm, and he
refused to yield. He exhaled, hatred plain in his teary, red-rimmed eyes.
Then he bit down on his lip and began to move, fast and rough, almost as if
punishing himself.
It was agony.
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