54

Song Wanyue felt like she couldn't live any longer. Why would she be seen getting drunk?

Most importantly, the scenes are still vivid in my mind.

In the past, I would lose my memory when I got drunk, but this time I drank too little and was only half drunk, so I remembered everything I should have remembered. Things that should not be remembered are also slowly being remembered.

She didn't dare go out and hid behind the door.

Even though Aunt Tan and Xiao Huan had already left the door, their voices could no longer be heard.

But she still didn't have the face to go out.

Until someone came and knocked on the door, she used her body to block it and prevent the other person from coming in.

Thinking it was Aunt Qin coming to call her to eat, she stammered in refusal, "I... I'm not hungry."

"Yeah." The man's voice was low and part of it was filtered out through the door, making it less cold than usual. "I made you a hangover soup, drink some."

It was actually Duan Baiting.

She would rather have Aunt Tan be outside.

"No need." He refused without hesitation.

It was quiet outside for a few seconds, and there was no sound of footsteps, which meant he had not left.

Song Wanyue did not dare to relax for a moment, for fear that he would push the door open and come in without permission.

Fortunately, Duan Baiting has been well educated in this regard and respects other people's privacy and wishes.

He wouldn't enter without her permission.

"If you don't drink the hangover soup, you'll have a headache."

He lowered his voice, as if trying to persuade her.

After he reminded her, Song Wanyue realized that her head seemed to be hurting a little.

And it was accompanied by a feeling of dizziness that made it impossible to stand.

It seems that although the alcohol content of the wine is not high, it has a strong aftertaste.

The stalemate lasted for who knows how long, and in the end, without a doubt, Song Wanyue was the first to compromise.

She thought that her temper was still stubborn, but Duan Baiting was no longer stubborn.

He doesn't mind wasting time if he can't achieve his goal.

Beneath this man's rational and calm appearance, there is also a paranoid side that is little known to the public.

Perhaps it was because of his terrifyingly strong self-control that he was able to become a reliable adult even without the supervision of his parents and relatives.

Song Wanyue knew what was going on and knew that she couldn't beat him, so she finally opened the door.

The hangover soup was still steaming, and he lowered his eyes to glance at her.

The silk nightgown fit softly on her exquisite body, her long hair was disheveled and her cheeks were slightly flushed.

I guess he heard something or remembered something.

After Duan Baiting walked into the room, he handed her the bowl and spoon: "Drink slowly, it's still hot."

She nodded, sat down on the chair, took a small sip, and frowned.

She had always thought that hangover soup tasted strange.

After taking a deep breath, he drank it all in one gulp.

Duan Baiting was standing by the table. He was wearing a dark grey shirt and suit trousers, and he looked meticulously abstinent.

The sharp facial lines make him look particularly cold.

But the eyes that looked at her were peaceful and calm.

Like a cedar tree in extreme cold.

The memories of being drunk came into her mind in bits and pieces.

The real body appeared in front of her at this time, which accelerated her recollection progress.

The blush on her cheeks continued to grow, she lowered her head, raised the empty bowl and pretended to drink the remaining soup.

In fact, he wanted to cover his face with the edge of the bowl.

Afraid of being discovered.

But she didn't know that while she was blocking him, her own vision was also blocked.

So she didn't see the barely perceptible chuckle beneath Duan Baiting's calm face.

He walked over and took the empty bowl from her hand: "You've finished drinking it, why are

you still holding it?" Song Wanyue turned her face away: "Don't bother me." She

still spoke in an angry tone.

Duan Baiting put down the bowl, half-knelt in front of her, and looked up at her.

This is a very submissive action, and when he does it, it is impossible to stop.

He was much taller than her, and he would look down at her when he spoke.

With a bit of top-down carelessness.

It was as if the king of the jungle was examining his prey. And she, this beautiful but delicate rabbit, can only get shelter under his intimidation and oppression.

When he wears a suit, he always gives people a sense of solemnity and holiness, like a statue in a church that one dare not look directly at.

But this statue happened to be making such a submissive gesture in front of her at this moment.

His hands were white and slender, with distinct joints and broad metacarpal bones. He could easily wrap her entire hand in his palm.

Song Wanyue lowered her head and felt her heart trembling wildly under his touch.

"We already talked about it yesterday, and you are not allowed to regret it." His voice was clear and pleasant.

It fell into Song Wanyue's ears, bringing her back to her senses. She slightly opened her cherry lips and replied subconsciously: "When?"

He repeated the time in his words: "Yesterday."

After a moment, he added with a smile, "You also said that you love me."

He smiled with ease and composure, as if he was in control of a strategy. Song Wanyue recalled the aggrieved murmurs she made when she was drunk.

——Because I like him, I feel sad.

All the mixed emotions seemed to be stuffed into her chest, and were being kneaded roughly by a hand, causing her heart to feel sore and swollen.

She refused to admit it and insisted that she didn't remember it.

I could tell that the sound of her voice was different from yesterday.

No longer shrouded in coldness, it has returned to its former pampered state.

Duan Baiting liked to hear her talk like this. Although others always like to speculate about his preferences, they think that people like him must have high standards for choosing a partner, and at least the ability of the partner matches his own.

Even if you are just helping him with interpersonal relationships, you have to be extremely considerate in all aspects of your dealings with people and things.

Someone once tried to get closer to him through love affairs.

At a drinking party, he would take the initiative to let a beauty sit next to him and pour wine for him, or arrange a gentle and considerate maid in the hotel room where he was staying.

He changed hotels directly.

He is so unreasonable in this regard that even his sexual orientation has been speculated.

Or maybe, none of these were to his liking.

That's right. After all, his surname is Duan. He has seen all kinds of good things and is particularly picky about women.

It was not until that time that the news of his marriage came out, and I heard that the other party was the eldest daughter of the Song family.

Spoiled, like a princess, extravagant, spoiled and spendthrift.

She is just a vase with a beautiful appearance. An ordinary man might be fascinated by her.

But the other party was Duan Baiting.

The man who is pure in heart and puts profit above all else.

He couldn't be so vulgar.

But what is the truth?

Not only did he fall into vulgarity, but he fell into vulgarity earlier than anyone else.

He was very sober and took the initiative to step into this beautiful trap.

Song Wanyue was wearing a suspender nightgown with a very low neckline, and one could even see the faint cleavage in the middle area below her collarbone.

There were several irregular red marks on her slender, white swan neck, even on her collarbone.

Duan Baiting raised his hand and gently stroked it with his cool fingertips, as if a piece of ice was freezing her.

She shuddered, straightened her back, and looked up at him.

It was like a switch that restored her memory, and scattered fragments were stuffed into her brain.

She remembered snippets.

Duan Baiting took her to get some fresh air, and when he was about to drive her home, she acted like a spoiled child and refused to go back.

As the alcohol took effect, he started to act crazy.

I wanted to touch him, and after touching him through his clothes for a long time, I didn't feel satisfied, so I unbuttoned his shirt and put my hand inside to touch him.

At first, Duan Baiting would stop her and feed her water to sober her up.

She started crying, and while crying she pretended to be stubborn: "Do you think I care? I don't care at all. I don't want to touch you at all. The people waiting for my touch are lining up all the way to Paris. I beckoned my finger and they all came up to me and begged me to touch you. In fact, you're just so-so. I don't care at all!"

The more she pretended to be stubborn, the harder she cried. She said she didn't care, and she almost had the words "I care a lot" tattooed on her face.

Duan Baiting sighed helplessly, fed her the water, screwed the bottle shut, and threw it on the back seat of the car.

This time he did not stop her, but took the initiative to unbutton his shirt one by one.

Every part of him is so perfect that there is no flaw to be found. Even in those hands, the metacarpal bones were slightly stretched out, and the blue veins on the back of the hands were winding and slightly raised.

His fingers were slender and white like jade, cool and elegant, yet noble.

He moved slowly and methodically, and even just the motion of unbuttoning his shirt was so pleasing to the eye.

He started by unbuttoning his collar, working from top to bottom.

Song Wanyue looked at him with fascination as his collarbone, shoulder and neck lines, pectoralis major muscles of just the right thickness, well-defined abdominal muscles, and shark line on the sides of his waist gradually emerged in front of her eyes as he moved.

The body structure of an adult is always more seductive than that of a teenager.

Every part of it carries irresistible sexual tension and mature charm.

Song Wanyue was like a wild beast greedy for its prey.

It's a pity that this beast is still too young, its fangs haven't even grown yet, and its lips are soft.

Even the invasion in the eyes seemed cute to Duan Baiting, who was supposed to be the prey.

He reached out and pinched her cheek, his palms stuck in her jaw.

She was gently squeezed by the force of her cheeks and forced to open her lips.

I opened a bottle of water in advance and washed my fingers carefully.

He put his fingers in and touched her neat, white teeth.

There are no fangs, not even a sharp canine tooth.

Duan Baiting remembered that Song Wanyue once told him that she had two small canine teeth before she was twelve years old. Later, the dentist said that when there is insufficient growth space, the canine teeth will gradually grow outwards.

So her mother took her to get it corrected.

Her hands were still supporting the armrest between the two seats, and her fair, delicate face was raised high in his hands.

The clear eyes are particularly beautiful, with a faint pink at the corners of the eyes and in the middle of the face.

Her mouth opened slightly under the force of his fingers. From his perspective, he could even see the tip of her rosy tongue.

Lying neatly in the mouth.

Occasionally he would shrink and tremble, as if frightened by something.

His Adam's apple rolled, Duan Baiting let go of his hand and reached the final compromise: "Touch it."

The car was parked in a very remote location, with almost no one passing by, and the windows were covered with anti-peep film.

Even if someone walked by, they would not know what was going on inside.

When the car drove back home, Duan Baiting's dress had already returned to its usual meticulous style.

The red finger marks and scratches were hidden under the well-fitting shirt.

It's like there's another dark side beneath his abstinence and steadiness that's unknown to the public.

The evil perpetrator sat in the passenger seat and fell asleep contentedly.

This brief peace did not last long, as the alcohol seemed to be settling and fermenting in her body.

After sleeping at home, she not only did not become more sober, but became even worse.

As if by telepathy, Song Wanyue woke up when the car stopped at the entrance of the manor.

She stuck her head out of the car window, felt the cold outside, then acted coquettishly and hid in Duan Baiting's arms.

"It's cold. Give me a hug."

She spoke with a slightly nasal tone, as if there was a piece of honey in her throat.

After melting, it was so sweet that it stuck to her throat and made her speech unclear.

But it sounds sweet.

Sweet and coquettish.

His mind was stuck, and so was his self-control, which he was so proud of.

He got out of the car, walked to the passenger side, opened the door, bent down, and unbuckled the seat belt that was blocking her.

Then take the person out of the seat.

Her hips were off the heated seat and behind her knees was his arm, firm and powerful.

His muscles were tense, and she could feel him heating up even through the fabric of his shirt.

Song Wanyue lay lazily in his arms, her consciousness rising and falling, and she started to act up again.

He reached out to take off his pants.

Duan Baiting's temples tightened and he pulled away her hand which had already unbuckled half of his belt.

Xiao Huan standing next to him was stunned.

Is this the adult world?