Both of them checked into a small hotel, pretending to be on a business trip and requested a double room but only slept in a single bed.
This time Mu Tiancheng was more gentle, he made sure everything was prepared and took all necessary measures, but Vincent still felt pain, though it was much better than the last time.
After an hour of tossing and turning, it finally ended. Vincent let out a sigh of relief. Mu Tiancheng lay down by his side, resting for a while before turning to lightly nibble on Vincent's shoulder and playfully tweaking the nub on his chest, "Can you still keep up?"
Vincent felt a jolt, fear crept in. Last time, his recovery took a long time, almost half his life.
Mu Tiancheng rolled on top of him. "Who made you choose this path? You'll get used to it eventually."
"Get used to?" Vincent repeated his words, confused. What does it mean? Is there a future? A year or two is neither forever, but it counts. What does it mean if everything remains the same?
