Chapter 37
When Song Muqing’s lips touched the mole, Lu Xuefeng’s breath hitched, his hands clenching tightly, his knuckles turning white.
The warm, wet sensation enveloped him; it wasn’t just a kiss.
The small mole became more prominent, the surrounding skin flushed, a faint mark appearing from the gentle suction.
Song Muqing’s breathing deepened.
His lips moved lower.
The sensitive bud, exposed, was gently taken into his mouth.
A wave of heat washed over Lu Xuefeng, his body tensing, his mind a blank.
He tugged weakly at Song Muqing’s hair, his words disjointed. “Don’t…”
He had never been touched like this before…
It was embarrassing.
A shiver ran down his spine.
Song Muqing held him close, not letting him pull away, the intensity increasing as he kissed him deeply.
The bathrobe was loose, the belt barely holding it together.
But their embrace held, the last vestiges of their restraint clinging precariously.
Song Muqing’s hand moved lower, and Lu Xuefeng’s legs almost gave way.
He turned him around, pressing him against the desk for support.
“…Xuefeng.”
Song Muqing’s breath was hot against his ear and his lips.
Lu Xuefeng heard him whisper that he wanted him.
His reaction was undeniable.
Song Muqing didn’t want to stop, his touch becoming more insistent.
They were both losing control.
But this was the study, the windows and door open, and Lu Xuefeng felt a surge of shyness, his response hesitant, pushing him away slightly, avoiding his touch.
Song Muqing, feeling tortured, nipped at his lip. “Don’t you want this?”
He wouldn’t force him if he didn’t.
Lu Xuefeng’s eyelashes fluttered, his breathing unsteady, clearly nervous. “Do you have a condom?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” Lu Xuefeng asked slowly, “When did you buy them?”
He didn’t remember buying any.
Song Muqing looked at him. “I bought them a while ago.”
Lu Xuefeng, his expression bewildered, asked, “Are they expired?”
“…”
Song Muqing said no.
They fell silent. Song Muqing caressed his ear. “Any more questions? Ask them all at once. Don’t torture me.”
His tone was both patient and impatient.
Lu Xuefeng’s hand, resting on the edge of the desk, felt the sharp corners, his heart pounding erratically.
“No more questions.”
Song Muqing looked at him for a moment, then kissed his cheek softly. “Are you nervous?”
Lu Xuefeng clearly was.
But Song Muqing didn’t stop.
This was Lu Xuefeng’s first time experiencing such intimacy, and it was natural to feel nervous and unsure.
This was someone he cared about.
He felt prepared, but not entirely.
Lu Xuefeng hesitated, asking, “If I’m nervous, will you stop?”
“No,” Song Muqing’s answer was firm, his gentleness laced with a subtle dominance.
He leaned down, kissing Lu Xuefeng’s lips, his hand tracing the curve of his spine, sending shivers down his back.
“I’ll make you feel good.”
Lu Xuefeng was almost lost in his husky voice, then heard him whisper, his voice strained, “I don’t want to do this here. Let’s go to the bedroom, okay?”
“Okay,” Lu Xuefeng murmured in agreement.
Song Muqing lifted him into his arms.
Lu Xuefeng, startled, instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck, as if seeking reassurance.
“I won’t drop you,” Song Muqing’s arms were strong and secure. “You’re not heavy.”
Lu Xuefeng felt his face warm.
He was a grown man, almost thirty; he wasn’t light.
Being carried like this was embarrassing.
They started kissing as soon as they entered the bedroom.
Perhaps because they had both been holding back for so long, they quickly lost control, their passion overwhelming them.
As Lu Xuefeng was placed on the bed, Song Muqing hovering above him, he realized he should be even more embarrassed now.
Song Muqing’s hair fell across his face, his gaze intense, hidden behind his glasses.
While they were kissing earlier, his glasses had occasionally pressed against Lu Xuefeng’s face, a cool, hard sensation.
Lu Xuefeng reached up, his hand tracing the curve of his cheek, then gently removing his glasses.
Like peeling away Professor Song’s aloof facade.
He looked into his eyes, filled with raw, unconcealed desire.
Song Muqing’s gaze lowered to Lu Xuefeng’s chest, the collar of his bathrobe loose from their earlier movements, revealing his collarbone.
The mark he had left earlier was still visible.
He had always been slender, his frame delicate and beautiful.
Including the curve of his spine.
Incredibly sexy.
Song Muqing reached out, untying the belt of his bathrobe.
“Xuefeng, I’ll hold you.”
It would make him feel safer.
Lu Xuefeng, Song Muqing’s breath warm against his ear, felt a surge of desire even before they began.
He was inexperienced, his movements hesitant and clumsy.
But Song Muqing was patient, guiding him gently, helping him adjust and endure.
Helping him relax.
After a while, Lu Xuefeng, his lips bitten red, whispered something against Song Muqing’s ear.
Song Muqing, no longer able to resist, reached for the nightstand drawer.
Lu Xuefeng couldn’t describe the sensation.
Held tightly in Song Muqing’s embrace, his heart felt full, overflowing, immersed in a warm, swirling pool of sensation.
A slight tremor.
And a sharp, unfamiliar ache.
Song Muqing was patient and gentle, but his movements gradually became more urgent.
Lu Xuefeng couldn’t suppress his moans, the sound strained, his lips bitten raw.
Song Muqing kissed him, asking if he was hurting him.
He had been gentle and rhythmic, his movements controlled and deliberate.
But Lu Xuefeng couldn’t speak, tears welling up in his eyes, a warmth he couldn’t control.
He didn’t know why.
Song Muqing wiped his tears with his thumb. “Bite me if it hurts.”
They held each other tightly, their breaths mingling.
It was a long and intense experience.
The final moments were almost unbearable, the pleasure building, overwhelming, his heart soaring, then melting into a warm, sensual haze.
Dizzy and exhausted, Lu Xuefeng couldn’t remember clearly what happened next.
It seemed like it happened more than once.
Song Muqing cleaned up, then carried him to the bathroom…
He slept soundly.
When Lu Xuefeng woke up, he could barely open his eyes, the light filtering in through a gap in the curtains too bright.
He didn’t know what time it was.
Song Muqing wasn’t there. Lu Xuefeng shifted, still feeling sleepy.
He had woken up briefly earlier when Song Muqing had turned off his alarm, getting ready for work.
They had been sleeping in each other’s arms, and the movement had disturbed him.
Song Muqing had kissed his forehead, telling him to go back to sleep, it was still early.
It was Monday, and Professor Song had a morning class; he couldn’t skip it, although he would have preferred to stay in bed with Lu Xuefeng, enjoying the afterglow of their intimacy.
Before leaving, he had returned to the bedroom, kissing Lu Xuefeng goodbye, and reminding him that breakfast was ready.
Lu Xuefeng, still sleepy, had mumbled a response, too tired to think.
Now, turning over in bed, he felt a strange soreness all over.
He attributed it to overexertion and lack of sleep. He glanced at his phone; it was almost noon.
He was suddenly wide awake.
He was late for work.
He hadn’t set an alarm; he usually woke up naturally.
But last night had disrupted his internal clock.
There were messages from Jin Hong and Lan Xin, wondering why he wasn’t at the theater.
And a message from Song Muqing: “Let me know when you wake up.”
Lu Xuefeng, still in bed, typed: “Just woke up.”
Song Muqing must have been free, as he replied within minutes: “Are you feeling unwell?”
Lu Xuefeng, looking at the message, recalled everything that had happened last night.
It was overwhelming.
It had all been new and exciting, and slightly embarrassing.
Song Muqing had been so intense, so passionate.
To say he wasn’t sore would be a lie.
Lu Xuefeng typed calmly: “No.”
Hardly.
He had seen the marks on his body in the mirror; it had been intense.
He was almost embarrassed to go to work, feeling he couldn’t hide them.
His waist and legs ached.
Having been a dancer, he couldn’t understand why making love was more strenuous than a dance rehearsal.
It wasn’t as if he had been the one doing all the work.
But it was different from dancing; the soreness was from being held, pressed, and bitten.
After washing up, Lu Xuefeng returned to the bedroom to change. He was still in his pajamas. They had both been sweaty after making love, but Song Muqing had cleaned him up and tidied the room.
He put on a high-necked shirt; he had to go to the theater.
Work couldn’t be avoided.
He had promised to coach two young dancers, who were probably waiting for him. He also had to oversee a performance tonight.
Before leaving, he opened the nightstand drawer.
That was where Song Muqing had kept the condoms.
He hadn’t noticed before; the drawer had always been empty. Now, he saw another unopened box inside.
The box from last night was gone.
Had they used them all?
Lu Xuefeng paused, feeling a flush of warmth.
…Song Muqing had indeed been going at it for quite a while.
At the theater, Lan Xin was surprised to see him, having assumed he wouldn’t be coming in today.
Lu Xuefeng asked her to get him a coffee.
He was tired today, mostly just observing and instructing, sitting down frequently, unable to stand for long periods.
Lan Xin asked, “Director Lu, does your back or your legs hurt?”
Lu Xuefeng replied casually, “Both, a little.”
Lan Xin, concerned, suggested he go to the hospital or use a pain relief patch.
Lu Xuefeng appreciated her concern, but it wasn’t necessary; he would recover in a day or two.
Song Muqing’s schedule at the university was lighter in the afternoon, but Lu Xuefeng was busy until the evening. He lingered in his lab, then went to the theater.
Lu Xuefeng went to pick him up, bringing him back to oversee the performance.
It was a short performance, just over an hour.
Song Muqing watched as he flitted around, attending to various tasks, his movements efficient and organized.
They finally had a moment to talk backstage after the performance.
Song Muqing pulled him into a quiet corner and kissed him. Lu Xuefeng smiled, trying to pull away, but Song Muqing held him close.
“What is it?” Lu Xuefeng asked.
“I missed you,” Song Muqing whispered, caressing his ear.
His words were unexpectedly affectionate.
They had been intimate last night, yet he already missed him.
The backstage area was crowded and noisy.
Lu Xuefeng looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Did you miss me at the university too?”
“Yes,” he admitted readily. “All day.”
He wished he didn’t have to work.
Lu Xuefeng couldn’t argue with that, simply retorting, “Focus on your teaching, Professor. Don’t corrupt the youth.”
Song Muqing chuckled, his hand on Lu Xuefeng’s waist, gently massaging the spot where he had left a mark last night. “Are you sure you’re not sore?”
“…No.”
Lu Xuefeng insisted, although he had to admit the massage felt quite good.
Song Muqing looked into his eyes, his tone suggestive. “Does it feel good?”
Lu Xuefeng was taken aback by the sudden question.
“Aren’t you embarrassed?” he retorted, his face warm.
Song Muqing smiled, not embarrassed at all.
They heard approaching footsteps.
He pulled Lu Xuefeng closer, shielding him from view.
No one noticed them in the dimly lit corner.
Song Muqing leaned closer, whispering in his ear, “I felt very good.”
His hand tightened around Lu Xuefeng’s waist, his breath warm against his ear.
“Let’s do it again tonight, Xuefeng.”
Lu Xuefeng: “…………?”
