Chapter 12
I was resting my head on the bar, making these plans. A man took a seat next to me, placing down his glass. His right hand gently tapped the back of mine, "Sister, care for a chat?"
One must strike the bell all day if one is to be a monk for a day. Moreover, his approach was quite gentlemanly, and he had beautiful hands. I turned my head, about to greet him, only to freeze in place.
It was Cheng Jiayang.
He was already reeking of alcohol, his gaze hazy. Hair fell over his face, and under the dim yellow light, his visage was devoid of any color. Many years later, when I reflected on that moment, I resignedly acknowledged that I had been bewitched by Cheng Jiayang. So even faced with him in such a state—decadent, indulgent, pale, and desperate—he still seemed handsome, sexy, and a shock to my heart in my eyes.
"This sister, I seem to have seen her before," he said, looking intently at my face. I wasn't afraid, he was so drunk, he must have forgotten about his other world.
"In your dreams, darling brother?"
He smiled, "What drink would you like?"
"Something expensive."
"No problem." He signaled, and the bartender brought over some Black Flag whisky. Cheng Jiayang poured me half a glass, but instead of letting me drink, he pressed his hand over my mouth and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face, "First, a sweet kiss." Then, his thin lips pressed against mine.
What kind of world was this? The noble and elegant prince of daylight turned into a demonic lord of the apocalypse, kissing a Songstress in the night?
But why should I care? This man was peculiar, yes, but his lips were real, icy yet real. I extended my tongue, tentatively tracing his familiar yet foreign contours, warming the cool lines, savoring his taste as his tongue also found its way into my mouth, bringing with it the aromatic vapor of alcohol. We moistened each other with our mouths, pulling away only slightly as I intently kissed and sucked at the corner of his mouth, curious how such beautiful French could emanate from there.
He wrapped his arms around me, one hand, not holding a glass, encircling my waist. He responded to my kisses at the corner of his mouth, whispering low, "Wow."
Our noses touched nose, and he smelled like Russian liquor-filled chocolates. I looked up into his eyes with a slight smile. Who was taking advantage of whom?
"Will you come with me?"
As we spoke, we could not bring the perpetual kiss to a close. Confused, I thought, with such an ideal partner, I aimed to set the "Allure's" kissing record. But when he asked me to leave with him, it seemed an even greater temptation.
My breathing was unsteady, "Beg me."
"Beg you..." He knitted his brows, pulling me even closer to his body.
I was elated. Watching him pay the bill quickly, he draped his jacket over my bare shoulders. We embraced and swiftly left "Allure".
Qiao Fei
However, what followed wasn't as sensual as the readers might imagine. We were actually a mess, drunk to the core, and Cheng Jiayang, who had been rendered breathless from our "fatal kiss of Allure," was unable to drive the car from "Allure," located near the seaside outskirts, back to the city. We turned off the road onto the beach. Cheng Jiayang opened the door, stepped out, and began to vomit, looking utterly wretched.
Those not naturally gifted should not drink against their nature. I watched him close his eyes, squatting and vomiting with such abandon that even bile was ejected. Rolling over, he lay down on the beach next to the car, sinking into unconsciousness.
In some corner of the world, there must be an unknowingly lucky woman who had hurt this man to end up like this.
(End of Chapter)
This book was first released by Xiaoxiang Academy, please do not reproduce it!