Slow to mature after marriage

Mu Siwan didn't look up, only hummed in response, her pen still moving in her hand.

Bo Yan looked at the corner she had drawn—there were a few lines on the paper, intertwined, like vines, or something else entirely.

He remembered what she had once said.

Xiaoqing is bamboo, and Grace is datura.

Each wound has its own unique pattern, and she will draw them out.

But she said she couldn't understand him.

I wonder what kind of flower it will bloom.

He lowered his eyes and took another sip of soup.

It was utterly tasteless.

He put the spoon down, and the porcelain clinked against the bottom of the bowl.

Mu Siwan kept moving the pen in her hand, without looking up.

Until the light in front of me was blocked by a shadow.

She paused, then looked up.

Bo Yan appeared in front of her at some point, standing there looking down at her.

Her hand holding the pen froze in mid-air, and she tilted her head back to meet his gaze.

Mu Siwan opened her mouth, looking bewildered: "What is it?"

Clean and clear-eyed, with no defenses in their eyes.

Bo Yan stared into those eyes.

He leaned down, pressed his hand on her shoulder, lowered his head, and kissed her forcefully.

His palm rested on the small piece of fabric on her shoulder, warm to the touch. His lips pressed against hers, carrying the lingering taste of the soup they had just drunk. It was a more forceful kiss than the one last night, his powerful breath filling her nostrils.

Mu Siwan's eyelashes trembled slightly.

They were so close, close enough to see the curve of his eyelashes, so close that their breaths mingled, making it impossible to tell whose was whose.

The pen in her hand had fallen out of her hand sometime ago, rolled twice, and stopped next to Grace. Grace looked up at it, then buried her head back down, lazily flicking her tail.

She raised her hand to his chest, still retaining a sliver of reason.

"Thin--"

Noticing her movement, he didn't stop; instead, he pressed forward. His knee shoved between her legs, and he covered her completely, trapping her between the sofa and himself. His hands slid from her shoulders to the back of her neck, supporting her and preventing her from escaping.

The kiss deepened.

Mu Siwan's body went limp.

"How could you...?"

Today is Sunday.

He finally stepped back a little, his voice hoarse and panting as it reached her ear.

She froze for a moment.

Sunday.

There was so much to do today. I flew back from Salzburg, filming and rushing around, I almost forgot.

"I'm a little tired..."

Bo Yan looked down at her.

When did you move it?

Mu Siwan opened her mouth, but had nothing to say.

Ok.

She lowered her eyes, loosened her hand from his chest, moved it upwards, hooked it around his neck, and pressed down hard.

"Then let's do it."

You have great stamina.

She silently complained to herself.

Indeed, he was extraordinary.

The man lifted her from the sofa and carried her upstairs. She leaned against him, her face pressed against his chest, her heart pounding so hard it pounded against her eardrums.

Back in the bedroom, she was placed on the bed. The bed was soft, and she sank into it. Before she could adjust her position, he was already on top of her, straddling her.

Bo Yan lowered his head and kissed her from top to bottom.

When her collar was unbuttoned, Mu Siwan suddenly turned her head away.

"I haven't taken a shower yet."

Bo Yan paused for a moment and looked up.

Her eyes were watery, and her breathing hadn't calmed down, but she pushed him away and tried to get off the bed.

"Go take a shower first."

Bo Yan stared at her.

Something was stirring in the shadows beneath my eyes.

His heavy breathing reached her ears.

"Let's wash together."

She shook her head.

"Inappropriate."

He watched her crawl out from under him, get out of bed, and walk barefoot towards the bathroom. Her figure was slender, her back straight, and she walked quickly.

Bo Yan turned over and leaned against the headboard, staring intently at the door that was about to close.

Just before she closed the door, he stood up and braced his hand against the door.

Mu Siwan looked up at him.

He squeezed in and closed the door.

The bathroom was small, and when two people stood together, the space suddenly felt cramped.

The man lowered his head, and kisses rained down upon him, overwhelming him.

The showerhead had been turned on at some point, and hot water poured down from above, wetting her hair and face, making it hard to distinguish between water and breath. She was pressed against the cold tiles, her back cool and her front burning hot, feeling as if she had been split in two.

"What's incompatible between husband and wife?"

The sound was half-covered by the sound of water, but it still reached her ears.

She didn't know how she finished washing it later.

All I remember is how hot it was. So hot I could hardly breathe, so hot my mind went completely blank. Steam was everywhere, the mirror was fogged up, and I couldn't see anything.

When Mu Siwan was carried out of the bathroom, her legs were still weak.

I thought I could finally be free.

He had barely touched the bed when he climbed on top of her again.

This time it was even heavier than in the bathroom. The force was so strong it felt like he wanted to crush her, tear her apart, knead her, and then embed the pieces back into his body. She thought that, from an anatomical perspective, this man probably wanted to dismantle every single bone in her body.

Then, it was re-attached to itself.

"Bo Yan..." she called him, her voice broken, "That's enough..."

He remained silent.

Only the occasional, uncontrollable gasps fell on her neck, heavy and hot.

Mu Siwan was so sleepy that her eyelids were too heavy to keep open. Just as she closed her eyes, he dragged her down, pulling her back from that hazy state.

"I'm sleepy..."

She muttered.

He didn't stop. Instead, he leaned down and kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, and the corners of her mouth, gently and repeatedly.

She was just drifting off to sleep when he pulled her back to reality. His breath fell on her neck, filling her body again and again.

She got annoyed, lowered her head, and bit his shoulder.

Very hard.

A faint taste of blood rose in my mouth.

The muscle in her shoulder tensed subconsciously, hard as a rock between her teeth.

Then slowly relax.

The taste of blood spread across the tip of the tongue.

Mu Siwan paused for a moment, then opened her mouth.

The man reached out, lifted her face, and kissed her again.

This time, he used even more force, as if he wanted to swallow her whole. As their lips and tongues intertwined, the faint taste of blood spread between their mouths.

When he was almost out of breath, Bo Yan suddenly stopped.

In the darkness, the two people looked at each other.

A woman's face is different when tormented by desire. Her eyes are watery, her lips are slightly swollen, and she is incredibly limp.

"Five days from now," he said, his voice low and husky, "I'm going to England on a business trip."

The news was so sudden that Mu Siwan froze, her breathing stopping.

My body was still warm and full, but I suddenly shivered.

"At least two months," the man added.

Mu Siwan fell silent.

In the darkness, those previously hazy eyes instantly cleared.

The moisture remained, but the light deep within had retreated.

a long time.

"Um."

Just one sound.

Indifferent, calm.

as always.

Bo Yan leaned down and stared straight at her, remaining motionless for a long time.

He was too close; his reflection was in her pupils. In that dim light, he tried to find something in those eyes.

There was nothing there.

She simply looked at him, her eyes completely unmoved.

Suddenly, I felt a heavy weight on my body.

Bo Yan gritted his teeth, tore off the condom in his hand, threw it aside, and put on a new one.