"Lin… Lin Mo, stop—it’s dirty," Leng Shuang panted softly, trying to pull away. But a strange numbness coiled through his limbs. His hand rested on Lin Mo’s head, utterly limp, without a trace of resistance.
It didn’t look like refusal. It looked like permission.
"No… Lin Shuang’s… *really* good," Lin Mo mumbled, words slurred and thick.
"Hmph… F-fine. Do whatever you want. I give up."
Leng Shuang’s face flushed crimson. His eyes shimmered with flustered emotion; his voice softened into something tender, almost breathless.
That only stirred Lin Mo deeper. *Pop*—she lifted her head. Seeing the alluring flush on his cheeks, a flame deep inside her roared to life, blazing raw in her gaze.
Wild. Unhinged.
"Really? *Truly* up to me?!" Her voice trembled with obsession.
She’d been gentle—afraid of hurting him. But now…
She’d planned to take it slow. Yet that tiny hum from him had lit the fuse.
*Screw it. Apologize later. If I keep holding back, I’ll explode!*
In an instant, Lin Mo became a tigress—lunging forward, feasting without restraint.
"Lin Mo, that’s not what I—"
But she was no longer savoring him like a delicacy. She devoured him like prey—merciless, primal, driven by pure instinct.
"Lin Mo?!"
Under his stunned gaze, she bit his neck with feral hunger, staining his pale skin with painful crimson marks.
*Mark him.*
*All mine. Only mine.*
Pain sparked struggle. But how could he match her? Tall and strong among men, he was still fragile beside her. To Lin Mo, his resistance was just another kind of encouragement—fuel for her unraveling mind.
Beneath her overwhelming intensity, his protests softened, tangled with pain and pleasure, fading like driftwood on a sea of euphoria… sinking deeper…
---
The next day.
Leng Shuang opened his eyes slowly. A dull ache pulsed through every muscle—like his bones had scattered. He lifted an arm: smooth skin now mottled with bruises, tender and purpled.
He scanned himself. Not a single patch untouched. Especially…
swollen. Sore.
"You…!" He turned. Lin Mo still feigned sleep. Fury flared. He pinched her cheek—payback for hours of "abuse" yesterday.
"I’m sorry, Leng Shuang! I just couldn’t hold back," she admitted instantly.
"I *said* that’s not what I meant! Why did you—"
"You *promised* to be gentle!" He raised a fist, but soreness forced it down.
"Hehe… I misunderstood! And… how could I resist *you*?" Lin Mo scratched her head, flustered.
She *had* tried gentle. But the slower she went, the hotter the fire burned—until restraint shattered. Young. Energetic. Uncontainable.
"Ugh. Forget it. I’m hungry," Leng Shuang sighed, anger simmering but stomach louder.
"Me too."
"Then *go buy food*!" His brow furrowed slightly.
"I was…" Lin Mo licked her lips, eyes lingering on the faint blush still dusting his cheeks. *Hungry for something else.*
"Huh?!" His expression twisted. *She went at it for hours yesterday—and she’s ready again?!*
"Get out!" *If she touches me now, I won’t survive.*
"Okay, okay! I’m going. Sorry~ Don’t be mad," Lin Mo murmured with reluctant regret, dressed quickly, and slipped out.
"…Are all women the same?" Leng Shuang sighed, recalling dorm gossip:
"Listen up, brothers! When a girl says ‘I’ll be gentle this first time’—total lie. Creatures who think with their lower halves? Where’s the gentleness?"
Boys’ dorms gossiped too. He’d absorbed it all. Thought Lin Mo was different.
Turns out… same.
Like that old saying: *"I’ll just rub, not go in…"*
He pushed open the window. Fresh air rushed in, clearing yesterday’s haze. His mood lifted slightly.
Grabbing clean clothes, he headed to the bathroom.
"Spacious…" He remembered—Lin Mo’s family was better off. Her father had left, yes, but their suburban home still spoke of comfort.
"Am I *that* pretty… to make her go wild?"
Leng Shuang stood before the mirror, sighing at the marks. Neck bruised. Lips bitten raw. To strangers, it might look like hentai abuse.
He hated sweat—the sticky cling. The shower washed it away, leaving cool relief. But the marks remained. Like stamps. *Hers.*
Remembering her obsessed whisper—*“You’re mine.”*
A faint smile tugged his lips. Warmth bloomed across his face: sweet, youthful, unmistakably happy.
Dressed, towel-drying his hair—the front door clicked open.
*Lin Mo already?* He looked up.
Lin Mo said her mom was away.
But the figure stepping in wasn’t Lin Mo. Nor her mother.
A bright-eyed, unfamiliar girl.
Their eyes met.
Both froze. Stunned. Silent.
