Chapter 144: An Offense to Their Beauty
[Warning: Mild sexual content up ahead]
How was he able to speak so clearly? She watched intensely as he bit roughly all around her breast, the warm chocolate dropped down to meet his lips. He licked from the bottom all the way up, taking a thick line of chocolate onto his tongue as he traveled a straight path to her nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and she shuddered.
"Jesus!" she panted.
"I would prefer if you call me Mo Qingchen," he replied coolly.
Before she could respond, there was a loud knock on the door. "Meng'er, time to come!" Xuxu yelled through the door.
Qian Meng's eyes widened. "Coming!" she yelled back immediately, hoping he wouldn't open the door. She was such a mess.
"I don't think you came," Mo Qingchen noted dryly, biting the base of her neck.
Damn, it felt good. She squirmed against him. "You are pure evil," she said. She even showed him a smile.
He continued nipping at her neck. Though she had cooled down, the heat rushed back into her limbs once again. So much for making him roar. She could barely function.
He was definitely trying to kill her. She clasped her bra closed. He had licked her body totally clean. There wasn't a trace of chocolate on her.
The man was thorough, if not anything else.
"We need to go." She stretched her arms up high, arching her back like a cat.
The smile plastered on her face must have been ridiculous, but she didn't care. Her body tingled, bursting with energy.
"I'd rather stay here with you." He licked a bit of chocolate off his finger just before his mouth claimed hers.
Not only did it make her forget Xuxu, but it also made her forget her own name. She had to regain some sort of control. It took plenty of willpower, but she leaned away from him.
"Down boy," she scolded playfully.
She jumped off his lap, standing before him in her skirt and bra, doing her best to catch her breath. Looking at him didn't help. It made her want to dive back onto his lap and do everything in her power to make him speechless, but Xuxu was waiting and she knew Mo Qingchen wasn't a minute man.
From the small taste she got, she had no doubt he would be an insatiable lover, absolutely the death of an inexperienced woman like her.
Spotting her shirt on the floor, she grabbed it, quickly pulling it on. Immediately, Mo Qingchen pouting like a child that lost his favorite toy.
"You are such a boob man." She shook her head, laughing.
He pulled her back down to his lap. "You have the most exquisite breasts ever created. They shouldn't be covered. It is an offense to their beauty."
"You really are getting much better at complimenting." She smiled wide, feeling giddy.
"That wasn't a compliment. I'm stating the truth," he said, completely serious.
"You're stating an opinion." She pulled the hem of her shirt down and attempted to pat down her wild hair.
"No. I am stating a fact," he argued stubbornly. "I dare anyone to dispute it."
"You are impossible." She ran her fingers through his thick hair. "Should I ask some men to see me topless then? Will you be happy?"
"Shut up," he said sullenly. He glanced at her shirt as though it were the enemy. "This should be criminal."
"I can't walk around topless. Society frowns upon that kind of behavior." He was still pouting. She kissed his lips, unable to hold herself back. "Only you get to see them now. It's an exclusive club and you're the only member. Happy?"
He smirked, liking the sound of that. She knew he would.
"Come on, we have to go before Xuxu comes back. There is an actual reason I brought you here tonight other than showing you my boobs." She quickly lifted herself off his lap before she lost what little willpower she had.
- - - - -
Although Mo Qingchen didn't enjoy the real reason she brought him to the Incarnadine as much as the dessert, he pleasantly surprised her. One of her favorite artists was in town and he had a unique style of creating his pieces.
It was a group effort.
In her head, she imagined several scenarios of how Mo Qingchen would handle being a mere participant in a large group of extremely diverse people. He didn't acknowledge anyone else but her, but he worked as part of the team and that made her want to hum the living hell out of him.
For years this kind of creativity had urged her own. She took inspiration from people and watching others create.
A massive black canvas was laid out on a giant table in the middle of the room. Large measuring cups filled with different color paints lined the perimeter. Working together, a room full of people pouring the paint out, watching it flow, at times guiding it, but mostly letting it take its natural course, always resulting in a stunning creation.
It was personal. Usually, she would dive in and lose herself in an expressive zone. Instead, she found herself watching Mo Qingchen, his brow crinkled as his eyes scanned the canvas, soaking in the spontaneity of the process.
To her, he was the most fascinating thing in the room and the thought frightened her.
What was she getting into? Brushing the fear aside, she joined, pouring her paint out onto the canvas, watching as it flowed directly towards Mo Qingchen's, splashing together in a vibrant burst of colors, like liquid fireworks.
How subliminal.
There were people gathered around them, pouring beside her, above her, and at every angle, and let her paint flowed straight to his, as though its path was clear. She was probably reading way too much into it, but at that moment, she believed strongly in fate.
Staring down at their private piece of canvas, she began to wonder what life had in store from them. As if Mo Qingchen could her thought, his eyes lifted to her.
She had a feeling she would find out very soon.
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