Chapter 49: Red Wine, Addiction.

Steam rose in the bathroom, warm water cascading from the showerhead in a fine drizzle, splashing delicate droplets on the tiles.

Wen Yicong was pressed against the damp wall by Mo Shaoshang, kissed with such ferocity that her mind felt like a jar of paste had been poured into it—thick, turbid, unable to think of anything.

His tongue churned and tangled in her mouth, hooking her into a death-defying entanglement, the sense of invasion like a tsunami sweeping through, constantly scouring every nerve.

Wen Yicong felt her legs grow weaker, her knees trembling, almost collapsing onto the soft, wet carpet of the bathroom.

Just then, Mo Shaoshang released her lips and pulled back.

Wen Yicong looked up dazedly, her gaze wet, like butterfly wings soaked by rain. She watched the man turn and walk out of the bathroom, disappearing somewhere.

A moment later, footsteps returned.

Through the hazy steam and a room full of mist, Wen Yicong looked at him again.

In her field of vision, that tall figure reappeared at the bathroom door.

The man wore only a white bath towel, loosely hanging at his waist, generously revealing his lean, powerful abdominal muscles and V-line. The steam spread wantonly, in a nearly hallucinatory space, his body's thin muscles bulging, every inch of texture as if meticulously carved, lines smooth and wild.

On his chest, the black snake tattoo coiled over the muscle, lifelike. The snake's body wound and twisted, scales layered, spitting a bright red forked tongue, as if it might leap off the skin at any moment and devour someone.

Eerie and uncanny.

A pair of blue-black eyes, without the obstruction of gold-rimmed glasses, appeared even deeper and darker. Damp forehead hair fell slightly, covering half his brow and eyes. In his hand, he held a bottle of Red Wine, the deep Red Wine glinting in the dimness.

He looked down at her from above, his pupils burning with hot possessiveness.

Like a proud wolf king overlooking a long-coveted prey.

Wen Yicong met this gaze and felt her whole body on fire, every inch of her skin burning hot. She knelt on the soft, wet carpet, looking up at him, her eyelashes trembling, lips slightly parted, unable to make a sound.

Then, she saw Mo Shaoshang bring the Red Wine bottle to his lips, his thin lips parting to bite the cork.

A soft 'pop' sound, and the cork fell.

Wen Yicong's heart thundered, the frequency of her eyelash fluttering increasing dramatically.

'Apri la bocca. (Open your mouth.)'

The man's voice was low and hoarse, carrying a hypnotic charm.

As if hypnotized, she looked up at him and slowly opened her lips.

The next second, the deep Red Wine poured down.

Slightly cool, slightly astringent, with the mellow fragrance of fermented grapes, it flooded into Wen Yicong's mouth.

Mo Shaoshang stared straight at the scene before him.

In his view, the Red Wine flowed over the girl's lips, soaked her tongue, slid down her throat.

She tried to swallow, but more Red Wine poured down, so the rosy liquid overflowed from the corner of her mouth, winding along her pink-white neck, drawing enchanting red streaks. Set against her snow-white skin, it was stunningly vivid.

Mo Shaoshang's eyes grew even darker.

Beneath the blue-black deep sea, something was churning violently.

When the Red Wine was finished, he casually tossed the empty bottle aside.

He leaned down, lowered his head, his palm cupping her neck, and kissed those lips stained with Red Wine.

The Red Wine flowed between their teeth, a slightly astringent sweetness, a cool heat. His tongue swept over her teeth, rolling up the remaining Red Wine in her mouth, swallowing it along with her breath into his belly.

Wen Yicong tilted her head, passively yielding.

The man's body was burning hot, his lips and tongue as well. She was scalded and kept retreating, but couldn't escape. Her limbs were firmly imprisoned by him, trapped in this small space between them, nowhere to flee.

In a daze, she felt her wet nightgown being peeled away from her skin bit by bit, like removing the shell from a lychee, revealing the fresh, plump flesh inside.

Her bare skin met the air, a chill came, and she couldn't help shivering.

At the same time, the man's lips began to wander.

Along her jaw, the side of her neck, her collarbone, downward, kissing her skin stained with Red Wine, drop by drop, licking it all clean. The sensation was contradictory and extreme, as hot as a branding iron, as light as a feather...

I don't know how long passed.

Wen Yicong's eyes were blurred with tears, the corners of her eyes flushed red, her body soft without a trace of strength. She felt as if she had turned into a puddle of water, stirred and churned by the man, no longer able to form a complete shape.

In a daze, her body suddenly lifted.

She was picked up.

Mo Shaoshang lifted her and stepped gracefully into the bathtub.

Warm water instantly enveloped them, smoke swirling, misty and hazy.

Wen Yicong hung on the man's body, her arms around his neck, her forehead pressed against his hot, damp neck hollow.

Then her chin was pinched.

Mo Shaoshang lowered his head and kissed her again.

His breathing was heavy and suppressed, his whole body tense. With a thought, his hand slid down her slippery, delicate back, roaming and caressing freely.

At some point, the little thing in his arms frowned slightly and let out a soft, broken whimper.

Soft, tender, fragile.

That sound was like a kitten's paw, gently scratching Mo Shaoshang's heart.

His fingertips paused slightly.

She was incredibly slender and small.

Just lightly touching with his fingers twice made her tremble unsteadily, so charming that it stirred pity.

But such fragility gave birth to the violent factors buried deep in Mo Shaoshang's heart.

She was the succubus of his dreams, from the first moment she entered his life, she had been tempting his desire.

He was so infatuated with her, so desirous of her.

He wanted to completely possess her, to turn her entirely into his.

He wanted his mark to be deeply engraved into her body, her heart, her soul.

He wanted her to only hear him, only see him, only remember him.

Countless thoughts churned violently in his chest. Mo Shaoshang lowered his thin eyelids, and from a few fingers' distance, examined the young woman in his arms again.

She had a pure, beautiful, and voluptuous face, a pair of black-and-white eyes, and a plump, seductive body.

At this moment, water waves rippled in the gaps between their bodies, circles upon circles. Two heavy, white mounds floated in the water, berry-pink nipples faintly visible.

Mo Shaoshang's gaze shifted upward a few points, falling straight into those misty eyes.

Likewise, she was also looking at him.

Her usually clear bright eyes were now soaked with allure, misty and blurred, whether water or tears, she looked at him with watery eyes, innocent and helpless, reminiscent of an inexperienced young fox in the mountain forest.

She looked at him, her face full of blush, her eyes even slightly unfocused, her tender lips slightly parted, breathing lightly.

Her small, pink tongue hid between her teeth, like a ripe fruit waiting to be picked.

Mo Shaoshang stared straight at her, his breathing growing heavier, his hand holding her slender waist unconsciously tightening.

Whether from pain or fear, sensing the increasing pressure of his fingertips, the girl raised her small hands, gently pressed against him, and tentatively pushed: 'Your strength is too much. Lighter, Rosalini...'

Her too soft and delicate waist twisted lightly in his grasp.

The girl's red lips parted slightly, calling out his name.

A fierce undercurrent crashed violently, and in just one second, Mo Shaoshang's rational thread almost snapped.

Blood surged freely in his body. He hooked her soft waist and pressed her heavily into his arms, kissing her wildly again.

The wanton kiss was like a violent storm.

Mo Shaoshang kissed her fiercely and brutally, like a starving beast king finally capturing its prey. Then he scooped up the wet little darling in his arms and laid her directly on her back on the soft cushion beside the bathtub.

Wen Yicong's mind was a mess of paste. In her confusion, she felt her legs being parted.

Then, the man's light, thin breath.

Cool and refreshing, getting closer and closer, spraying on her soft, cottony thigh center...

Unable to bear it any longer, Wen Yicong let out a soft moan, her mind scattered, almost dying under the man's lips and tongue caress.

I don't know how long passed, so long that the moon outside the window was covered by clouds, the world plunged into deeper darkness, and the storm in the bathtub gradually subsided.

Mo Shaoshang propped himself up, returned to directly above Wen Yicong's face, lowered his eyes, and stared at her fixedly.

The girl's cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue, the color of rouge. Her lips were slightly parted, her small tongue still trembling helplessly, the corners of her eyes a bewitching red, rich and captivating.

She was completely lost, not knowing where she was.

Completely immersed in the world of lust he had woven with his own hands.

His eyes darkened.

The next second, his long fingers parted her two lips and entered.

His warm fingertip pressed on her tongue, with a thousand strands of calloused roughness, slowly rubbing in her mouth.

Sensing the foreign object invading her mouth, Wen Yicong's unfocused eyes refocused. She blinked and looked at him. Her gaze was misty, innocent and naive, like a young fox in the mountain forest.

'Lick it clean,' the man said in a low voice.

Her body and mind were again seduced, and she obediently parted her two rows of teeth.

Her soft tongue carefully wrapped around, licking his fingers, clumsy and earnest. Warm, wet, indescribably soft and slippery.

Mo Shaoshang's breath suddenly sank.

After a while, he withdrew his fingers and looked down.

His long fingers, caressed by her lips and tongue, were covered with a layer of clear, soft, moist sheen.

Below, Wen Yicong's cheeks were still flushed. She looked at the man above her, not knowing what he wanted to do.

Then she saw Mo Shaoshang staring straight at her, and under her confused gaze, he brought his long fingers stained with her liquid to his lips and gently licked them.

His blue-black eyes were full of lust and suggestion.

'...'

Her hot body tightened repeatedly, Wen Yicong's heart trembled. She shyly turned her head away, not looking at him anymore.

Sensing the girl's evasive gaze, Mo Shaoshang reached out, his tiger's mouth wrapping around her small, flushed face, turning it back to face him.

He leaned down close to her, so close that their breaths intertwined, inseparable. His fingers also rubbed on her red, slightly swollen lips, slowly, again and again.

'What taste,' he asked lightly.

Wen Yicong was extremely tired, her whole body limp. She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep well. After hearing his words, she couldn't even mobilize her brain cells to think. She just mumbled and threw the question back: 'What what taste?'

'You.'

'...'

In just a few seconds, Wen Yicong belatedly realized what he was talking about, and suddenly 'boom,' her whole face burned up.

She didn't know how to answer, didn't know what to say.

And at this moment, the man's blue-black eyes stared straight at her, and he licked his fingers again, softly answering for her: 'Your taste, very sweet.'

Wen Yicong didn't expect this person to say such a thing. Her eyes widened, and she chided in embarrassment: 'Don't say that.'

Mo Shaoshang looked at her, feeling that her cheeks were delicately red, her whole body covered with a layer of cherry-blossom-like light pink, and the corners of her eyes and brows exuded a satiated, coquettish charm, like a little squirrel that had just eaten its fill of pine cones.

Cute and soft, pure and seductive intertwined.

It made one want to do even more bad things.

His mind shifted slightly, and his thin lips moved along the beautiful lines of her neck, then his lips parted slightly, and he bit her collarbone very lightly.

The tired girl felt pain, let out a soft muffled groan, raised her hand to push him, and mumbled in protest: 'So sleepy, let me sleep for a while...'

Mo Shaoshang raised an eyebrow at this.

His lower abdomen was congested, his muscles still taut to the point of pain, desire piled up like a mountain, with no relief. It was like drinking poison to quench thirst, wanting to satisfy a craving, but instead getting hungrier.

Only God knew how much he wanted to enter her body immediately.

Recalling the soft, wet sensation just now, his scalp tingled, and he wished he could bite her into pieces and swallow her alive.

But...

He reached out his fingers and gently stroked the girl's peaceful sleeping face.

Her breathing had become long and even, her eyelashes quietly covering her eyelids like two small fans. The blush had not completely faded, making her small face even more delicate and lovely.

But, his treasure was so narrow, green, and tender. Even the pleasure of lips, tongue, and fingers was endured with great difficulty.

Thinking of this, endless love surged into his chest.

The expression in Mo Shaoshang's eyes unconsciously softened. In the blue-black deep sea, the churning waves slowly subsided, replaced by a softness he had never felt before.

He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead.

Then he picked her up and returned to bed to sleep together.

*

The next morning.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains into the bedroom, casting light golden patches on the floor.

Wen Yicong woke up from her sleep in a daze. Opening her eyes, she found herself back in the bedroom on the third floor of the villa.

Familiar chandelier, familiar wardrobe, familiar bedside table.

She was also wearing a clean, new nightgown.

She blinked, a little confused.

Strange.

Last night, hadn't she gone to the Underground Cellar to find Mo Shaoshang?

In her memory, they had dallied from the bathroom to the bathtub.

That man, with his outwardly noble and indifferent appearance, looking so proper, once his clothes were off, was simply a beast...

Thinking of those absurd details from last night, Wen Yicong's cheeks flushed with heat. She quickly shook her head and stopped thinking.

Then she immediately got up, hurriedly washed and changed clothes, and went downstairs.

*

At nine in the morning, the black Bentley stopped steadily at the entrance of Star Bridge Children's Rehabilitation Center.

Wen Yicong took Airi's little hand and got out of the car, walking into the familiar teaching building. The life aunt, Tang Sister, followed behind, carrying Airi's small backpack and water bottle.

In the classroom, a few children had already arrived.

Wen Yicong led Airi to find a seat and sat down. Then she bent down, sat beside him, and gently held his young, soft little hand.

The entire social skills class went relatively smoothly.

Under Wen Yicong's guidance, Airi tried several times to interact socially with other partners. This progress made Wen Yicong especially delighted.

She had planned to take this opportunity to guide Airi to make two new friends, but she was too sleepy.

Last night, she didn't know how late the man had kept her up. After one class, Wen Yicong felt her eyelids fighting, her mind groggy, and her reactions slower than usual.

To avoid affecting the quality of the second half of the class, during the break, she quickly handed Airi over to Tang Sister and slipped to the break room to make coffee.

The break room at Star Bridge was not large, but it was warmly decorated and provided a variety of drinks and snacks.

It was quiet all around, only the hum of the coffee machine working.

Wen Yicong poured in coffee beans, pressed the switch, then yawned and rubbed her eyes, standing by to wait.

Just then, a series of footsteps came from behind.

The sound of high-quality high heels hitting the floor, crisp and rhythmic.

Wen Yicong felt the footsteps were a bit familiar. She turned around and her eyes lit up instantly.

'Principal!'

Zhang Yao stood at the door of the break room, dressed in a warm white professional suit, her long hair tied back, her makeup exquisite and appropriate. Seeing Wen Yicong, a smile spread across her face, and she said cheerfully: 'I was just looking at the schedule, and I remembered that Airi has class today.'

While speaking, Zhang Yao walked in and stood beside Wen Yicong.

'How is it, Xiao Wen? Has Airi made any progress recently?'

Wen Yicong nodded, joy spreading across her brows: 'Yes, Airi has made great progress. He has started trying to interact with peers. Although still passive, at least he is willing to reach out. Compared to his initial state, this is a very significant breakthrough.'

Zhang Yao listened and nodded with satisfaction, full of approval: 'Good. You really haven't let us down. Keep it up, continue to work hard.'

Receiving the principal's encouragement, Wen Yicong was in a particularly good mood. She nodded: 'Don't worry, I will.'

They chatted a bit more about work.

The coffee was ready. Wen Yicong poured a cup and held it in her hands. The warmth came through the ceramic wall, dispelling some of her fatigue.

At this moment, Zhang Yao's gaze carefully swept over Wen Yicong and stopped thoughtfully.

This lively and cheerful rehabilitation therapist was the famous beauty teacher at Star Bridge. But, for some reason, today's Wen Yicong seemed different to Zhang Yao from usual.

Those autumn-water bright eyes were clear and lively, but in the flow of her gaze, there seemed to be a bit more allure, a myriad of charms. Even as a woman, Zhang Yao couldn't help but feel her heart stir. The skin on her cheeks was tinged with a light cherry pink, her lips red and slightly swollen. Her whole person seemed to have been nourished by something, exuding an indescribable charm.

'Xiao Wen,' Zhang Yao suddenly asked, 'Have you been in love recently?'

Wen Yicong was drinking coffee. Hearing this, she was immediately choked by the coffee in her mouth, feeling guilty.

But she quickly calmed down, cleared her throat, smiled nonchalantly, and said: 'No. Principal, I've been working as a rehabilitation therapist at Mo Manor during this time. Even if I wanted to fall in love, I wouldn't have the chance.'

Zhang Yao muttered after hearing this: 'Mm, that's true.'

Wen Yicong thought for a moment, but still couldn't suppress her curiosity, and asked suspiciously: 'Principal, why did you suddenly ask that?'

'Oh, nothing much.' Zhang Yao's eyes curved. 'I just saw that your overall state seems a bit different.'

Wen Yicong blinked and instinctively raised her hand to touch her cheek: 'Really? Maybe the food at the Manor House has been good lately. I've been eating more, gained some weight, so my complexion looks better.'

Zhang Yao laughed out loud at her words, her tone becoming more affectionate: 'You're not fat at all.'

Saying this, she reached out and playfully pinched Wen Yicong's soft waist.

'This is called being full-figured. All the fat goes to the places it should. Many people envy that.' Zhang Yao teased with a smile. 'With your face and figure, if you get a boyfriend in the future, you'll definitely make him so dizzy he won't know which way is north.'

Wen Yicong blushed slightly, smiled, and said nothing more.

She instinctively glanced at the time on her phone.

A little past ten in the morning.

Only a little past ten.

There was still a long, long time until evening...

The moment this thought arose, Wen Yicong was suddenly startled.

She realized that, from some point on, she had begun to look forward to the arrival of night, to the secret meetings with that man.

Looking forward to his seductive voice, his deep gaze, every kiss he placed on her.

The fingers holding the coffee cup suddenly tightened. Wen Yicong's heart trembled. She took a small sip of coffee to cover it up.

Her face was very hot, her ears and neck also warm.

What should she do?

It seemed she had become addicted to him.

*

Life at the Manor House seemed to continue as usual, yet a subtle change had occurred.

That evening, after Wen Yicong had dinner with Airi, she first went back to her room to shower as usual.

The warm water washed over her body. She closed her eyes, but her mind was full of last night's scenes.

After showering, she sat on the edge of the bed and began to daydream.

Her phone was right beside her, the screen black.

She picked it up from time to time to look, lit it up, then put it down.

No new messages.

Looked again.

Still none.

Wen Yicong bit her lip, her shoulders drooping in frustration.

Was he not planning to meet her tonight?

Was he too busy with work, or did he have a last-minute engagement?

But whatever the reason, he should have told her in advance...

Wen Yicong's mind was in a mess, a little dissatisfied, a little disappointed.

Holding her phone, she thought back and forth for a few seconds, and finally made up her mind. She opened WeChat, tapped into a certain chat window, and started editing a message.

Cheese Sweet Moon: [O??`Д???? O]

The message was sent.

She pursed her lips, lay down on the soft bed, propped her chin on her hands, and waited.

Time passed minute by minute.

After about two minutes, 'ding,' a new message popped up.

M: [Something came up temporarily, just got back.]

Seeing these words, Wen Yicong blinked.

She thought for a few seconds and quickly replied: [I see.]

Cheese Sweet Moon: [Did you have dinner?]

M: [Yes.]

Cheese Sweet Moon: [So, are you in the Study Room now?]

M: [In the bedroom.]

Cheese Sweet Moon: [Oh, okay.]

A secret ripple stirred in her heart. Wen Yicong rolled around on the bed like a pancake twice, grabbed her phone, and continued typing. She entered in the chat box: [So, are we meeting tonight?]

After typing this line, she bit her lip again and pressed the delete key several times, clearing the content.

After all, she was a girl. Would being too proactive be a bit bad?

Would he think she was... perverted?

Just as she was hesitating, a new message popped up in the chat.

M: [Have you showered?]

Cheese Sweet Moon: [Yes, just finished.]

M: [Open the door.]

Cheese Sweet Moon: [...?]

M: [I'm at your bedroom door.]

Wen Yicong was stunned.

She stared at the phone screen in disbelief, confirming she hadn't misread.

He was... at her door?

Her heart suddenly raced.

After a moment, Wen Yicong stood up with her phone, walked to the door, reached out, and slowly, tentatively, opened the door a crack, peeking out.

In the hallway outside, the wall lamp cast a dim yellow glow.

A tall figure stood quietly.

Black suit, Windsor knot, the chain hanging from the gold-rimmed glasses glinting faintly in the light. The man was impeccably dressed, handsome beyond compare. In his right hand, hanging by his side, he held an exquisite gift box, its contents unknown.

Wen Yicong's eyes widened in surprise.

Thump, thump.

Her heart drummed in her chest, all the blood in her body rushed to her head, dyeing her cheeks the color of pomegranate flowers.

...Previously, their meetings had been in the Underground Cellar or other hidden places. She hadn't expected this man to come directly to her room door late at night.

Oh my god, what if someone saw?

Almost instinctively, in a panic, she stepped back half a step.

Mo Shaoshang's blue-black eyes pierced through the lenses, staring straight at her. Without saying a word, he strode in on his long legs.

'Click.'

The door locked behind him.

The sound was so soft it was almost inaudible, but it struck Wen Yicong's heart like thunder.

She looked up at him, both flustered and scared, moving her lips: 'You, how did you...'

Before she could finish, Mo Shaoshang raised his hand and handed her the box.

'I prepared a gift for you,' he said. His tone was light as usual, his gaze calm and restrained.

Wen Yicong was a bit surprised. She took the box and opened it.

She looked closely.

In just a few seconds, her face turned red, all the blood in her body rushed to her head, and in the blink of an eye, she was almost fully cooked.

The gift in the box was a set of accessories.

No, to be precise, it wasn't accessories.

It was a set of objects resembling restraints.

A blue leather collar, delicate and exquisite, with a silver bell attached to the front. Next to it was a matching blindfold, made of silk. Further to the right, there was also a pair of leather handcuffs, the same deep blue, lined with soft fluff on the inside, connected by a thin silver chain between the cuffs.

They lay quietly on the black velvet lining, like an invitation to something absolutely forbidden.

Wen Yicong's heart thundered, her fingers trembled slightly, and even her breath stopped for a moment.

She looked up and met the man's gaze.

Those blue-black eyes were quietly watching her.

Deep as an abyss, with hidden flames churning.