Hot flashes

He stopped asking questions and instead expressed his surging, almost violent, possessiveness and desire to punish through his actions.

What followed was like being caught in a long and fierce storm for Zhou Heng.

Xiao Jue seemed to have completely lost his mind. He forced Zhou Heng to say more shameful things and to put on various unspeakable poses. His usually calm and deep eyes were now frighteningly red.

It burned with a flame of obsession and a chilling rage, tightly locking the trembling, submissive body beneath it, as if it wanted to devour him from the inside out, even his soul, and brand him with its unique mark.

At first, Zhou Heng could still cry and beg for mercy, but later all that was left were broken sobs and physiological tears.

My consciousness was floating and sinking, and my body felt like it wasn't my own.

It made him feel, in a daze, that he was probably really going to die on this bed.

It is unknown how long it took before the storm gradually subsided.

Zhou Heng felt as if all his bones had been removed; he lay paralyzed in bed, too weak to even move a finger.

Her body was covered in marks. Tears silently slid down her cheeks and into her hair.

Xiao Jue lay on top of him, his heavy breathing gradually subsiding.

He sat up and looked at Zhou Heng's miserable appearance after being thoroughly "dealt with." The terrifying crimson in his eyes gradually faded, returning to its usual depth, but the gloomy anger and some deeper, unfathomable emotion still lingered in his eyes.

He reached out, his fingertips somewhat rough, and gently wiped away the tears from Zhou Heng's eyes. The gesture carried a tenderness that followed, yet it inexplicably sent shivers down one's spine.

"From now on," Xiao Jue's voice was low and husky, carrying the languor of someone who had just made love, yet it brooked no argument, "you are not allowed to think about those messy things anymore. And you are not allowed to... learn from anyone."

Zhou Heng was so tired that he couldn't even lift his eyelids. He could only let out a muffled murmur in response.

Xiao Jue was finally satisfied. He scooped him up and carried him to clean him. The warm water soothed the aches and discomfort in his body, and Zhou Heng leaned against him, drifting off to sleep.

After cleaning him up and returning to the clean bed, Xiao Jue held him tightly in his arms, resting his chin on the top of his head and possessively wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Sleep now," Xiao Jue whispered, placing a kiss on his hair.

Zhou Heng snuggled against him, found a comfortable position, and almost instantly drifted into a deep sleep.

There seemed to be lingering fear in the dream, but the steady heartbeat and warm body temperature coming from the chest behind me finally dispelled all the unease.

Xiao Jue did not fall asleep immediately. By the faint moonlight filtering in from the window, he looked at the peaceful sleeping face of the person in his arms, his fingertips unconsciously tracing his swollen lips and the tear stains under his eyes.

Besides anger, there was also an indescribable... unease.

There are too many mysteries surrounding Zhou Heng, too many things that he cannot control or even understand. He is like a treasure that can never be fully explored, or like a handful of fine sand that may slip through his fingers at any moment.

He tightened his arms, pulling the person closer into his embrace.

Morning light streamed through the window, casting interplay of light and shadow inside the room.

Zhou Heng struggled to open his eyes, feeling as if his entire skeleton had been disassembled and reassembled, especially his waist and legs, which were so weak and sore that they were completely unresponsive.

The chaotic and intense images from last night flooded his mind like fragments, causing his cheeks to burn instantly. He instinctively tried to curl up, but the movement aggravated a certain area, causing him to hiss in pain.

A steady breathing sound came from beside him. Xiao Jue was awake, lying on his side, one hand supporting his head, the other on his waist, looking at him with a deep gaze, his eyes unreadable.

When Zhou Heng met his gaze, the last hazy memories of last night came flooding back... He guiltily shrank his neck and tried to bury his face in the blanket.

"Awake?" Xiao Jue's voice was slightly hoarse from the morning, and lower than usual.

"Hmm..." Zhou Heng mumbled a response, not daring to look at him.

The hand around his waist tightened, and Xiao Jue pulled him closer to him, bringing the two of them even closer together.

Xiao Jue's gaze fell on the mottled marks on the side of his neck, where there were teeth marks left when he lost control last night. He gently traced them with his fingertips, causing Zhou Heng to tremble slightly.

"What you did last night," Xiao Jue began, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable scrutiny, "where did you learn that?"

Zhou Heng froze. It had come after all!

"I saw it in a picture book..." he whispered, his eyes darting around, not daring to look Xiao Jue in the eye.

"A sketchbook?" Xiao Jue repeated, his tone flat, making it impossible to tell whether he believed him or not. "What sketchbook? Where did you see it? Who gave it to you?"

A barrage of questions bombarded Zhou Heng, making his scalp tingle. How could he possibly know any specific names or origins of "picture books" from this era? He had only made them up on the spot.