When he heard Yong Jin call him “Jun Jun,” Zhou Jun felt a jolt to his senses. Everyone else called him Zhou or Stinson—neither too intimate nor overly distant, just hinting at some familiarity. He straightened up, adjusted his clothing, cleared his throat lightly, and politely said, “Just call me Zhou Jun.”

With that one sentence, a distance was created between them, as if the passionate kisses from a few days ago had never happened. Men often withdraw more quickly than women, especially those who are unfaithful. As Zhou Jun reached for his slippers, he noticed Yong Jin’s dark gaze and couldn’t help but pull his legs back slightly.

Zhou Jun shifted in his seat, reaching for the ashtray beside him, wanting to smoke. He needed to do something; otherwise, Yong Jin’s intensely pressing gaze made him too anxious. Just as his hand was about to touch the ashtray, it was seized at the wrist. Zhou Jun jolted, and both the ashtray and the whip beside it clattered to the ground. Yong Jin leaned closer, his face nearly brushing against Zhou Jun’s cheek. “What are you afraid of?”

In the thick darkness of the night, Yong Jin’s voice lacked the brightness of the day. His breath brushed against Zhou Jun’s cheek, causing the latter to frown and pull back slightly. Zhou Jun pulled his hand away from Yong Jin’s grasp; the hold was already light, so it came free easily. The curls at his forehead had grown a bit long, disheveled and blocking his line of sight.

Zhou Jun absentmindedly brushed his hair back and finally met Yong Jin’s gaze. It seemed that Yong Jin was dissatisfied not only with Zhou Jun’s polite demeanor but also with the fact that he had knocked his whip to the ground. Frowning, Yong Jin reached to touch Zhou Jun’s neck, exerting a possessive grip. His hand paused mid-air for a moment before lowering to remove his gloves. He enjoyed touching Zhou Jun’s skin directly. Ever since that first encounter in this house, he had developed a kind of greed for the sensation of Zhou Jun’s body.

Especially the scent that lingered on Zhou Jun. After pushing him against the door and then getting into the car, the fragrance of Zhou Jun had clung to his clothes for a long time. It was subtle yet filled with an indescribable allure, just like the person himself.

However, Zhou Jun was unwilling and turned his face away, escaping from his grasp. As his fingers barely brushed against a few strands of hair, the familiar scent that belonged solely to Zhou Jun enveloped him, spreading softly before his nose as he drew closer.

Zhou Jun, feeling somewhat uneasy, said, “I’m not scared.” He rolled his eyes and glanced at the whip lying on the ground, then spoke, “I’ll pick it up for you.” He intended to get up and walk around to the back of the sofa where the whip had fallen. Just as he moved, Yong Jin pressed down on his shoulder, forcing him back onto the leather of the sofa, making a sound as his weight sank into it.

Yong Jin also moved closer, his hand sliding from Zhou Jun’s shoulder to his neck, then playfully tugging at the knot of his collar. Zhou Jun was wearing a Western-style bathrobe, its neckline tied in a cross. The V-neck plunged deep into his chest, and Yong Jin’s gaze traveled downwards, almost able to see the pair of breasts they had once touched.

Zhou Jun watched as Yong Jin pulled at the two sections of the ties, layer by layer loosening the collar of his robe, fearing that it wouldn’t be long before he would be unwrapped like a gift. In the past, Zhou Jun would have indulged Yong Jin, allowing the atmosphere to lead to something more. But after his brother had just informed him about the family situation and made it clear that Yong Jin had ulterior motives, he felt differently.

Now, consumed by lust, Zhou Jun knew he was playing right into his enemy’s hands. So, he pressed his hand against his chest and gripped the other end of the rope in Yong Jin’s hand, slowly reclaiming control over his clothing and the situation. With rare determination, Zhou Jun pushed Yong Jin away and said, “Major General Yong, I really don’t want anything to happen between us.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he silently praised his own composure. However, he forgot that with Yong Jin, it was never as simple as saying no to make it so. When Yong Jin stepped back, Zhou Jun breathed a sigh of relief. Yong Jin turned to leave, and Zhou Jun thought to himself that tonight, Yong Jin was surprisingly easy to handle. To his surprise, Yong Jin returned, grasping the whip with a gentle smile and said, “So, it turns out that Jun Jun prefers a rough approach.”

Zhou Jun sprang up from the sofa, one shoe having fallen off, leaving him half barefoot. He dashed into the room, turning to brace the door shut. But the door was pushed back, and Yong Jin, expressionless, forcefully opened it. Zhou Jun couldn’t withstand his strength and took a step back. The bedroom was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by a faint light from the hallway.

He let out a dry laugh, “I don’t like being pushed around, General Yong.” Yong Jin paused, not advancing further, but raised a hand to unbutton a few of his shirt’s buttons while exhaling deeply. Zhou Jun fumbled for the light switch, and with a flick, the room was flooded with brightness. He noticed that Yong Jin’s hair was slightly tousled, his shirt was open, revealing glimpses of his chest muscles.

This man exuded an outwardly sexy vibe, mixed with an impatience from his unfulfilled desires. Zhou Jun watched as Yong Jin licked his lips, adding a glistening shine. The sight made him swallow hard but he continue backing away. He regretted turning on the light; now, the room was bright, the man radiating vivid desire was too tempting for him to resist.

Yong Jin undid a few more buttons, sensing Zhou Jun’s gaze lingering on him. He spoke softly, “Come here.” When Zhou Jun hesitated, Yong Jin’s voice softened, almost coaxingly, “Just come over; I won’t tie you up.” With that, he placed the whip aside.

Zhou Jun hesitated, feeling reluctant as he stepped forward. Yong Jin, however, was gentle as he wrapped his arms around Zhou Jun’s waist. Yong Jin was a bit taller, his lips brushing against Zhou Jun’s nose in a light touch. His voice was husky as he asked, “Can I kiss you?” Zhou Jun found this man unpredictable; just a moment ago, he had been intent on tying him up, like a scene from a horror movie. Now, he was acting like a gentleman, cradling his face and asking if he could kiss him.

He said somewhat deliberately, “With you barging into my house like this, does it even matter if I don’t agree to the kiss?” Yong Jin lowered his head, rubbing his nose against Zhou Jun’s, their lips nearly touching but never quite making contact. Zhou Jun felt Yong Jin’s cheek softly brushing against his face as he admitted, “I guess it’s my fault. If you’re not willing, then you’re not willing.”

Though he said that, Yong Jin didn’t let go; instead, he continued to hold Zhou Jun’s waist, his mouth now grazing his ear. The small earlobe felt cool, and when it was nibbled and tugged at, it turned slightly red. Zhou Jun’s body stiffened, and warmth quickly spread from his ear down to his neck. He had experienced having his ear bitten before, but never in such a rough manner.

Yong Jin lifted his chin and began to kiss his way down Zhou Jun’s neck to his Adam’s apple. Zhou Jun tilted his head back, trying to retreat but was pulled back by his waist. He grasped Yong Jin’s shoulders with both hands, letting out a soft breath of cool air. Yong Jin then loosened the ties of his collar, causing the loose fabric to fall halfway open, allowing his mouth to move to a new territory, leaving dark hickeys on Zhou Jun’s shoulder.

After finally pausing, Yong Jin pressed against his chin again. Both of them were breathless now; Yong Jin’s breathing was also rapid. He held Zhou Jun’s chin and asked again, “Can I kiss you?”

Zhou Jun was so overwhelmed that he lost his resolve; his neck felt hot, and his skin was trembling. So, he opened his mouth, which was a silent consent. He didn’t even know when he had been pushed against the vanity table, the same place where they had met for the second time. At that time, Zhou Jun had been sitting in the chair at the table, meeting Yong Jin’s gaze in the mirror.

The chair was in the way, so Yong Jin pushed it aside with his foot, making it wobble before crashing heavily to the floor. Zhou Jun was lifted by the waist and placed on the table, his hands bracing against the cluttered objects, knocking over several of them. However, Yong Jin’s hurried actions came to a halt, and just a hand’s breadth away, he panted, “You haven’t agreed yet.”

This man was too much, deliberately teasing and provoking him. Just when he was on the verge of giving in, he still wanted Zhou Jun to take the initiative. But after all those actions, Zhou Jun could no longer maintain his rationality. In a mix of urgency and frustration, he responded with action, cupping Yong Jin’s face and transferring his passion through his lips.