Chapter 263: Not Willing To Stop
Yuche shouldered through Rouxi’s bedroom door and kicked it shut behind them. The sound echoed through the private space she had claimed as her own...
The one he had chosen for her. One that fit her so much better than the pink princess one on the other side of the mansion.
The massive black canopy bed dominated the space, and he strolled toward it like a homing missile.
He laid her down carefully, setting her in the middle of the black sheets with a control that cost him more than he wanted to admit. Rouxi looked too small there for half a second, surrounded by all that dark fabric, and the sight of her there made something protective move through him, sharp enough to hurt. Then she lifted her chin and glared at him like she was still deciding whether to argue, bite, or make another terrible decision, and the thought disappeared as quickly as it came.
She was not fragile.
She was his.
"Tell me if I hurt you," he ordered, already working at his belt. The words came out like a command because, from him, they were one. It would kill him if he took this too far and hurt Rouxi in any way, shape, or form. "Tell me to stop, and I will stop. But do not lie to me, Rouxi. Not about this."
She didn’t say a word.
Instead, she met his eyes, her cheeks still flushed and her chin still lifted in challenge, and Yuche saw the answer there before she gave it to him.
She wanted him.
Not because she was confused, not because she was bored, and not because the world had narrowed down to whoever was closest.
She wanted him, and the knowledge hit somewhere deeper than pride.
For a man like him, being wanted was not new.
People wanted his name, his protection, his power, his money, his weapons, and the kind of safety that came from standing behind him instead of in front of him. That was normal. That was useful. That was business.
This was different.
Rouxi was not looking at the Dragon Head. She was not looking at the man he was before he lost everything in the apocalypse.
She was looking at him like he was the thing she had chosen after everything else had been stripped away, and for one dangerous second, Yuche wanted to find every person who had ever made her feel unwanted and bury them under the house.
Forcing those thoughts away, he undressed completely, watching her watch him like he was some type of artwork. Her gaze traveled down his body, lingering on the evidence of his desire, and something primal in him responded to that look.
’Mine,’ his instincts screamed. ’She is finally going to be all mine.’
She was still fully clothed, and he intended to change that slowly.
He moved toward her until he was kneeling on the bed, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to keep glaring at him. He couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on his face.
Like an angry raccoon. She tried to look fierce, but to him, she just looked cute.
She was still wearing one of the oversized T-shirts she had been living in since Luo Xin healed her. It wasn’t sexy by any stretch of the imagination, but it still made him want to do bad things to her. Or maybe it was just the woman in it.
Yeah... it was definitely the woman in it.
Yuche caught the hem between his fingers and paused there, not because he was hesitating, but because he wanted to see if she would curse at him, bite him, or try to hurry him along.
Much to his ever lasting happiness, Rouxi chose the third option.
She reached for his wrist, impatient and flushed, and Yuche caught her hand before she could yank the shirt up herself. His grip was gentle but firm, his eyes locked on hers as he lowered her hand back to the sheets.
"No," he replied to her silent demand. "We do this my way."
He peeled away each layer of her clothing, taking his time, mapping her body with his eyes. When he reached her underwear, he paused for a long moment, simply looking at her. She was nearly naked now, waiting for him on her black sheets.
His breathing came harder, more labored.
This was it. There was no turning back after this point.
"You are beautiful," he said, and he meant it with an intensity that made the words almost violent. "So fucking beautiful."
He removed the last barrier between them, and then he could see all of her. The scar from her injuries were fading, but there would always be a mark from the battle that almost took her from him. He found his mouth pressed against it before he could think. That mark had terrified him. The thought of losing her—
He cut off the thought. She wasn’t gone... she was here.
He positioned himself between her legs, and the control he had been maintaining snapped like an elastic that had been stretched too thin. His cock was hard, aching, and when he looked at her spread out before him, every muscle in his body tensed with the effort of not simply driving into her and taking her over and over again.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice harsh, and her eyes snapped to his. "I want to see your eyes when I’m inside you."
The second he lined his cock up with her hot, wet pussy, the man he was before her disappeared entirely. Now he was Rouxi’s Jian Yuche.
Taking in a deep breath, he entered her slowly, fighting every instinct that screamed at him to rush. To sink into her heat as fast as possible and never leave again.
Inch by inch, he pushed himself into her, and the sensation of her...tight, hot, and clenching around him like her body knew he was never supposed to leave...nearly undid him right there.
He had fantasized about this, imagined it countless times in the dark quiet of nights when he was supposed to be sleeping, but nothing had prepared him for the reality.
Then again, this was Rouxi. Nothing could ever prepare him for her.
"Fuck," he breathed against her neck, and he felt her shudder at the word. "You feel incredible. So tight. So fucking perfect."
He started to move, a slow, controlled rhythm that was equal parts torture and pleasure.
His forearms were braced on either side of her head, and his dark eyes never left hers, watching every expression that crossed her face. Each thrust was deliberate, designed to make her gasp, designed to drive her higher, designed to stake a claim that went deeper than any physical mark.
Her hands gripped his shoulders, and her nails dug into his skin hard enough to leave marks.
Yuche welcomed the sting with a satisfaction that was almost dangerous. Rouxi had done that. Rouxi, who bit at the world before it could bite her first, had lost enough control to mark him, and for one brief, unreasonable second, he wondered if there was still a tattoo artist alive somewhere in the world who could trace the shape of her nails into his skin so he could carry proof of this night for the rest of his life.
"You feel too good," he said through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched. "I am not going to last if you keep gripping me like that."
"Then don’t," she breathed, and something about those words...the permission... the encouragement...her need...shattered the last of his control.
His pace picked up, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, and far less controlled.
He was no longer thinking, no longer maintaining the careful balance between restraint and need.
He was purely driven by want now, by months of obsession and possession demanding satisfaction.
And he was never going to stop.
