When you’ve been together long enough, you come to know everything about each other.

Jiang Hansheng had a high level of vigilance — his senses were sharper than most people’s — and the moments when he could fully let his guard down were rare, very rare.

Like right now.

Zhou Jin pulled the towel from his head, ran her hand along the back of his neck, and slipped her fingers into his damp, soft hair.

He lowered his head. Zhou Jin thought he was going to kiss her, and she parted her lips slightly, waiting for his mouth to descend over hers.

But Jiang Hansheng only grazed the corner of her lips lightly and moved on — no kiss. Instead, he brought his hand up to her throat, his thumb pressing against her jaw, tilting her head to the side.

The lovely line of her neck was exposed. Jiang Hansheng bit down on her flushed earlobe.

“Zhou Jin.” Desire seemed to have scorched his voice into a low rasp. He rubbed his cheek against hers and asked, “Do you want me?”

He had brought things this far, and yet at the very last moment, he returned control to Zhou Jin.

Zhou Jin realized that Jiang Hansheng was quite wicked at a time like this — and wickedly adorable with it. On the surface, he was willing to follow her wishes, but at this particular moment, what good did it do her to have control returned?

Jiang Hansheng made it impossible for her to refuse.

Zhou Jin wrapped both arms around his neck and shoulders, rose onto her tiptoes, and kissed him on the mouth — reclaiming every one of those teasing, elusive kisses he had denied her moments before.

That was exactly what Jiang Hansheng wanted: her inability to refuse, her taking the initiative.

A low, quiet laugh rumbled in his throat — like a child who had finally been given a piece of candy. He bent down slightly and gently suckled her lip, kissing her back in kind.

Zhou Jin nipped at his chin, pressed her lips to the prominent knot of his throat, and to his bare chest.

Jiang Hansheng’s muscles were firm and evenly sculpted. Under Zhou Jin’s teasing, the temperature of his skin gradually turned scorching.

Jiang Hansheng gathered her legs up, pulling the two of them closer together.

In the past, he had always been urgent — beneath his composed expression lay blazing desire; his kisses were passionate, and what he asked for was fierce. But today was different. Jiang Hansheng possessed great patience and strategy, and he began to apply both to Zhou Jin.

He never took that final step. He only hovered around her in ambiguous entanglement, wearing her down, grinding against her persistence.

Under his seduction, Zhou Jin sank deeper and deeper, casting every thought aside. Her eyes grew hazy with want, and she bit and nibbled freely at his neck. Yet Jiang Hansheng still made no move to go further.

Before long, Zhou Jin felt as though a flame had ignited somewhere in her chest.

Her mouth had gone dry. She stopped and looked at him, asking, “Do you actually want to do this or not?”

Jiang Hansheng took a playful bite of the tip of her nose, kept his arms around Zhou Jin, and continued pressing against her, rubbing against her. He said, “I belong to you, Zhou Jin. You decide.”

Zhou Jin’s patience had been completely worn away by Jiang Hansheng. His words were all compliance, and yet Zhou Jin had the persistent feeling that she had been led along by him every step of the way.

She couldn’t blame anyone else — only blame herself for letting desire cloud her judgment.

Her inexplicable competitive spirit was roused. She raised an eyebrow and said, “Do it.”

Zhou Jin pushed Jiang Hansheng back onto the bed, and a thought surfaced in her mind —

“I have to devour him.”

Jiang Hansheng watched as she reached up to brush her hair aside, revealing her fair, delicate profile, her eyes bright as the moon — curved and smiling as she looked at him.

His throat worked in a hard swallow, and he realized his patience and self-control might not be quite as solid as he had believed.

Zhou Jin had a wildness to her. She was passionate, full of vibrant energy — and in that moment she was like a little wolf ready to enjoy a grand feast, while he had come running willingly, glad to be the prey caught between her teeth.

Zhou Jin thought to herself: Jiang Hansheng’s scent was clean and pleasant — she liked it very much. And the sounds that escaped him because of her, sounds he couldn’t hold back — those she liked even more.

Zhou Jin stopped, then asked, “Do you want me to?”

Jiang Hansheng: “……”

How could she be this competitive? Even in something like this, she had to come out the victor over him.

His eyes had gone red from the strain of holding back. He said nothing.

Zhou Jin leaned down and bit and nibbled at his neck at will, then touched his burning-hot ear and murmured softly, “Husband?”

Jiang Hansheng’s chest tightened. He pulled Zhou Jin back a little, putting some distance between them, and the two of them stared at each other.

Zhou Jin felt his gaze was dangerously intense. She wondered if she had gone too far, her face flushed, and she quickly amended: “Professor Jiang?”

Jiang Hansheng pulled her close, flipped their positions, and guided the back of her head down gently onto the pillow with his hand.

He stared at her. “How could you — what did you just call me?”

“Husband.”

Zhou Jin had simply wanted to tease him. Back in the car, she had called Jiang Hansheng that, and the sight of him freezing up completely had been rather amusing — but she hadn’t quite understood what that particular form of address meant to him.

They were already married, weren’t they?

Jiang Hansheng gazed at her for a long moment, his hand smoothing back her disheveled hair, as though confirming something for the third time.

Shortly after, he let out a soft laugh and buried his face in the curve of her neck, pressing a continuous trail of light kisses there. Zhou Jin exhaled in contentment, her fingers toying with the hair at the back of Jiang Hansheng’s neck.

Jiang Hansheng lightly bit her ear and murmured in a husky voice, “You’re breaking the rules, Zhou Jin. You—”

He was not angry with Zhou Jin; his tone carried something more like grievance: “You’re not being reasonable.”

Why wasn’t he the first person Zhou Jin had fallen in love with? Unreasonable. If she still carried Jiang Cheng in her heart, then why had she agreed to marry him? Unreasonable.

And now — why was it so easy for her to come and coax him like this?

Unreasonable. Unreasonable.

Each silent accusation he leveled at her in his heart, he answered with a fierce, consuming demand. Yet Zhou Jin had no idea what was going through his mind — she only received him, welcomed his entry, accepted his claiming.

A long while later, Jiang Hansheng let out a slow, deep breath and lay down with his arms wrapped around her from behind. Zhou Jin trembled in gentle waves, utterly spent, her eyes closed as she nestled and nuzzled against him in quiet, tender aftermath.

Jiang Hansheng pressed a kiss to her damp temple, his hand drifting to rest over her flat stomach. Eyes still closed, he murmured softly, “Zhou Jin — when we have a child, what should we name them?”

Zhou Jin opened her eyes. She pressed her hand over his, her lips parting as if she meant to say something. But Jiang Hansheng took the opportunity to lace his fingers through hers, his thumb tracing a gentle stroke across the back of her hand.

“I think I could become a decent father.”

Jiang Hansheng’s breath was warm against her skin. So was his palm. Just like his wish.

Zhou Jin reached up and touched his handsome face.

She did not answer him.