Fatal Desire

Chapter 135 Why are you so concerned about him?
Song Xi's eyes were slightly red at the corners, and her fingers gripped Zhao Yansen's shirt tightly, the silk fabric crumpled in her palm. She met his dark eyes and asked earnestly:

"May I?"

“Yes, Princess Xixi has no taboos.” Zhao Yansen chuckled, his fingertip brushing against her moist lips.

A seven-year age gap is not small; in between lies a vast chasm of experience shaped by the passage of time.

Song Xi is still young and full of youthful energy when it comes to relationships. He can't let her feelings fall into the abyss, so he will go along with her foolishness.

In the distance, a cluster of fireworks was falling, leaving a golden trail in the night sky, which made Song Xi's delicate face appear even whiter.

They were in a relatively secluded spot on the deck, but when she looked up, she saw groups of guests not far away.

Song Xi tensed instantly, turning her head away from Zhao Yansen's hot breath: "Someone's there."

"What are you afraid of?" Zhao Yansen pinched the back of her neck with his large hand, his nose pressed against hers. "Let them see."

The sea breeze ruffled Song Xi's skirt, and her pearl earrings swayed with her movements, creating a lustrous arc. Just as Song Xi was about to speak, the yacht suddenly lurched, and she fell into Zhao Yansen's arms.

He caught her steadily, but still asked, "Are you hurt?"

“No.” Song Xi lifted her face from his embrace. “I’m afraid of water.”

“I’m here, nothing will happen to you.” Zhao Yansen patted her back. “Don’t be afraid.”

Song Xi wrapped her arms around his lean waist. "Psychology says that when people hear a sentence, they usually catch the verb first. You told me not to be afraid, so all I heard was 'afraid'."

Zhao Yansen couldn't help but chuckle: "Then my timid Xixi will have to hold on tight."

The fireworks were magnificent and dazzling, and they quietly embraced each other for a few minutes in the sea breeze.

Two bodies pressed intimately together, the scalding heat spreading through them, creating a genuine sense of possession in the cerebral cortex, which was incredibly addictive.

Zhao Yansen possessed immense and illustrious reputation and overwhelming power, making him the most eye-catching figure even on this gilded and jade-adorned yacht.

Many people wanted to go up and greet him, but were intimidated by his aura and dared not approach him easily. By the time they made up their minds, the yacht had already docked at the last minute, and he had already left with Song Xi.

Fissderler invited Zhao Yansen to a yacht party, which Zhao initially refused, but later changed his mind and arranged for musicians and fireworks in a short period of time.

Fesdler was well aware that Mr. Zhao's business visit was merely a side matter; his true objective had already been achieved, and any further attempts to persuade him to stay would be futile.

I could only watch them go.

The Pullman, with a body length exceeding six meters, was parked under the night sky, like a wild beast lurking in the steel jungle.

Song Xi sat in the leather chair, and within a minute, her phone rang.

She took out her phone and glanced at it; the screen prominently displayed the three characters: 【Meng Weixian】.

After returning to Beijing, Meng Weixian was constantly juggling the family business and the planetarium. He finally managed to find some time to meet up with friends, only to discover that Song Xi was not there.

He urged her anxiously to come out for drinks: "President, everyone's here, why haven't you arrived yet?"

Song Xi retorted, not to be outdone: "You still remember me, Young Master Meng?"

"Isn't that obvious? You're like a second mother to me." Meng Weixian took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Sister Song, I've opened a few bottles of good wine. Would you do me the honor of coming over?"

“I’m abroad, you can drink it yourself,” Song Xi said. “Remember to finish it, don’t waste food.”

"He went abroad on a business trip? I didn't hear Shang Shixu mention that."

"He's not my secretary, so it's normal that he doesn't know."

"When are you coming back?" Meng Weixian asked.

Song Xi said, "About a week."

Meng Weixian wailed and cried on the other end of the phone, saying that he had just returned and she had already left, her tone sounding like she was mourning a death.

Song Xi was too lazy to listen to his summoning ritual and hung up the phone directly.

She lowered her eyelashes, her fingers nimbly tapping the screen as she sent a message to Fu Guanyue: "Guanyue, I'm going to Paris in a couple of days."

Sending successful. Song Xi looked up at the man beside her and asked curiously, "How is Brother Ji'an's leg?"

"I have regained consciousness and am currently trying to walk," Zhao Yansen said calmly.

Song Xi said "Oh" and then fell silent.

The next second, a strong force suddenly gripped her slender waist and pulled her straight towards it.

Song Xi was held on Zhao Yansen's lap, her fingers loosened due to his sudden action, and her phone slipped from her hand and fell onto her seat.

"So concerned about him?" Zhao Yansen asked cryptically.

Song Xi rested her hands on his chest, her eyelashes fluttering slightly as she heard his words: "No, I was just asking. Zhou Ji'an has been looking for Sister Guan Yue, and I have to think about my goddaughter and keep an eye on things for her."

"Goddaughter?"

“You already know,” Song Xi lowered her voice, “it’s the Zhou family’s daughter.”

Everyone in the industry knows about Zhou Ji'an and Fu Guanyue's divorce, but few people probably know that Fu Guanyue was pregnant when the divorce happened.

Zhao Yansen: "I didn't know you had given me a goddaughter."

Before Song Xi could grasp the deeper meaning, Zhao Yansen placed his palm on the back of her head, his Adam's apple bobbing, and kissed her.

His kiss started lightly, then pressed in forcefully with desire, leaving her no room for resistance. His hands tightened, swallowing all the soft moans that escaped from Song Xi's lips, the kiss passionate and scalding.

Occasionally, a few sounds would ring out outside the car window—the whirring of passing cars. These sounds, carried into the dimly lit, alluring car interior, added to the ambiguous atmosphere.

Song Xi's breathing became rapid, her heartbeat was pounding, and even her face and ears couldn't help but turn red.

As their lips parted, she opened her eyes, gazing at Zhao Yansen with a hazy, dreamy look, and saw the unbridled desire in his eyes.

Men used to be alluring because of their excessive sense of morality and taboo. Now that they're liberated, that allure has only increased.

After a moment, Song Xi calmed her breathing and asked, "Shall we do it tonight?"

"What are you doing?" Zhao Yansen asked, feigning ignorance.

"Love."

"Girls should be more reserved," Zhao Yansen said gently, adopting the composed and dignified demeanor of an elder.

"Okay," Song Xi changed her mind, "Then do you want to do it with me, the reserved one?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yansen lowered his head, resting his forehead on her shoulder, and chuckled silently. His hot breath brushed against her neck, and he barely responded, as if he had uttered a curse, his laughter both relaxed and helpless.

He didn't answer in the car, so Song Xi planned to ask him again when they got back to the mansion.

However, as soon as she stepped inside, before she could even speak, Zhao Yansen's large hands cupped her hips, and he lifted her up, kissing her as he walked. Those broken words were swallowed back down her throat.

Song Xi instinctively wrapped her slender legs around his strong waist, put her arms around his neck, and parted her red lips slightly, indulging in his passionate kiss.

Zhao Yansen carried her into the bedroom. The door wasn't closed, so he kicked it open with his foot.

They fell onto the wide, soft sofa, kissing passionately, and lingered there, their lovemaking unending.

Song Xi's feeling of suffocation grew stronger and stronger, as if she were racing against the tender, delicate sounds of kissing.

She took a deep breath of fresh air, her legs unconsciously rubbing against him.

Before Song Xi could catch her breath, Zhao Yansen released her, his eyes darkening, and gently stroked her swollen red lips with his fingertips.

He lowered his head, breathed softly in her ear, and then asked her in a low voice why she was clenching her legs.

The magnetic, husky voice sent shivers down Song Xi's spine, and she gasped softly, "...more."

Zhao Yansen inhaled her scent, his hand expertly reaching for her waist, and asked in a deep, hoarse voice, "What do you want?"

(End of this chapter)