“I want to bite you.”

Fang Jingcheng finally got to hear Xia Fu’s thoughts, though the content was far from charming.

It seemed like their encounter with the crystal rose had set a strange precedent in their relationship. Every time they kissed, she’d often nibble at his neck or chin. So to him, this statement simply implied that she wanted a kiss. He let out a long sigh, instinctively tightening his grip around Xia Fu’s waist, bending his back and letting his breath fall gently into her hair as he murmured with a mix of affection and helplessness:

“How did you end up with such a strange habit?”

He’d heard that small animals sometimes nip or scratch to get their owner’s attention. But this girl was different; even if she didn’t do a thing, her presence was more than strong enough.

“You’re the one who asked… So can’t I?”

Xia Fu looked up at him, pressing her thin lips into a straight line, her bright eyes filled with an accusation against his mixed signals. It was almost enough to melt Fang Jingcheng’s heart just by looking at her.

He had no choice but to surrender. “Alright, alright.”

The affectionate kiss moved from her forehead to her cheek. After a brief touch, Fang Jingcheng leaned his head back, trying to relax as he leaned into the bed, putting on a look of resignation.

“But visiting hours are almost over; I can only let you bite for a little while.”

“Mm, I’ll be quick.”

As she spoke, Xia Fu didn’t wrap her arms around his neck as she usually did. Instead, she slowly sat up, pressing her small white hand against his waist and asked, “Could you lift your shirt for me? I want to bite your waist.” Her tone was so calm, as if she were simply asking him to help open a bottle.

“Uh? Where?”

His blue eyes widened, a look of surprise taking over his face as he struggled to understand the situation.

“You promised me, remember?”

She reminded him again of his previous commitment.

It was only now that Fang Jingcheng realized that this girl’s “bad habits” ran deeper than he had ever imagined.

This wasn’t good, not at all. Was Xia Fu always like this? Or was this sly and enticing way of speaking something she had picked up from dating him?

Besides the surprise, there was a thrill he couldn’t quite describe, like electricity running through him, making his scalp tingle.

How far would this go? The unknown allure kept pushing him to agree to her request. But a small remnant of rationality, along with a hint of male pride, urged him to hold back his curiosity—

No, he wasn’t some masochist who got excited by pain, and as a boyfriend, he couldn’t keep letting Xia Fu lead him around all the time!

Fang Jingcheng gripped Xia Fu’s wrist, adding a bit of strength as he asked, “It’s not like I’m totally against it, but can I ask why?”

“Because I think your tattoo is beautiful, and your waist is the only place that doesn’t have one. So, I want to leave a mark there. It wouldn’t be done by a tattoo artist—it would belong to me alone, and it won’t hurt you too much…”

She looked down at him, her gaze soft and sincere, explaining in a gentle voice as she slowly threaded her fingers through his.

Fang Jingcheng wanted to say something about this borderline obsessive possessiveness.

But as he opened his mouth, he found himself speechless. That raw, intense emotion felt like a storm enveloping him, leaving him with nothing but a dry throat.

She simply liked him; it was just a bit of insignificant pain, wasn’t it? It was no big deal, right? After all, it was his duty to fulfill his lover’s wishes.

His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed.

With her fingers completely entwined with his, her warm, damp palm pressing against his, the last bit of his mental defense crumbled.

With a gentle lift of her wrist, Xia Fu removed his hand from his abdomen.

She rolled Fang Jingcheng’s black T-shirt up, like an artist unveiling a masterpiece, revealing a flawless canvas beneath.

His lean abdomen rose and fell with his breathing, his pale skin tinged with a shy blush, and the faint blue veins that wound up from his lower abdomen seemed to pulse gently.

Xia Fu recalled the patterns on his arm as she leaned down.

Unlike soft lips, the narrow, toned waist of a young man with little fat from his regular workouts wasn’t the easiest place to bite. When his emotions ran high, his solid abs tensed up, making it harder to gnaw at.

Before long, Xia Fu grew tired. Other than the first bite, which was hard, the rest were more like gentle nibbles, without any rhyme or reason, as if the “artist” was merely venting her emotions.

And Fang Jingcheng was already lost in the moment. Heavy breathing, stifled whimpers, he couldn’t help but struggle, his long fingers wrinkling her blue-and-white bedsheet.

Her “artwork,” created with inexperienced hands, was a mess of scattered red marks, not quite achieving the desired effect.

It seemed she had poured all her talent into logical thinking, with barely any skill left for art.

She got up from her boyfriend, tilting her head to wipe the dampness from her lips, and sincerely apologized to him:

“Sorry, it didn’t turn out very pretty.”

Fang Jingcheng’s breath still hadn’t steadied. His half-lidded eyes looked at her, watching her as she cleaned herself up like a cat after a meal. He found the gesture cute to the point of being infuriating, stirring a destructive impulse within him.

Young love is beautiful and pure, yet it hides a violent edge.

Suddenly, he realized that he wanted to care for her, to support her, letting her bloom freely under the spotlight, but he also wanted to drag her down, returning all the passion he endured, so that her mind was consumed by him alone.

At this thought, Fang Jingcheng suddenly chuckled in resignation:

“So, do you want to make it up to me?”

He propped himself up, leaning lazily against Xia Fu’s pillow, smiling at her. The corners of his eyes still held the remnants of the tears that had fallen just moments ago, making her gaze blur slightly.

So beautiful.

Unable to resist, she reached out, brushing his sweat-dampened silver hair from his forehead.

This was her marked, beautiful rose, just for her. With that thought lingering in her heart, Xia Fu agreed without much hesitation.

“Alright.”

So, like a serpent, he wrapped himself around her, kissing her hand more tenderly than usual. But soon, the kiss turned into a soft lick, each finger interlaced and damp. He held her waist, keeping her close, lingering over her neck and earlobe.

Until the footsteps of another approached from the end of the corridor, gradually drowning out Xia Fu’s quiet sounds, Fang Jingcheng finally released her.

A loud knock on the door broke through the thick atmosphere in the room.

“Hello, are you guys packed up?”

Outside the door, the dorm manager’s voice boomed.

Although he wanted to take things further, now wasn’t the time.

In this state, it was best that only he saw her.

Fang Jingcheng glanced toward the door, raising his voice to reply, “All set, teacher! I’ll be right down.” His voice was clear, showing none of the husky restraint it held moments earlier.

He released her long hair, using it to cover the bite marks, and quickly kissed her forehead.

“Now we’re even.”

Straightening their clothes, he spoke to her in a lighthearted, casual tone, trying to shift their attention.

“I’ll head down to clean up first. After I take a shower, we can grab something to eat. What do you feel like?”

Her gaze was still a bit dazed, and she stammered:

“I want a double cheese burger. You got over 85 on your professional course this time, so I’ll treat you to a meal.”

“Wow, I’m looking forward to it.”

After a short farewell, Xia Fu collapsed back onto the bed. She lay on the sheets Fang Jingcheng had wrinkled, catching a scent mixed with sweat and other warmth she couldn’t quite identify.

Her body felt soft and weak.

She recalled the feeling of his large hand pressing against her waist, imagining it still there, rough, burning, moving up along her side until it reached her ribs, and craving even more.

Just kisses, just touches, like what she’d done to him before, yet it felt entirely different.

It was like she’d rediscovered the shape of her body in this new type of contact, and she’d have to change her clothes soon.

After all, the more touched she felt in this relationship, the more she sensed that she and Fang Jingcheng were on different paths.

Since they were destined not to be together forever, maybe it was better to quickly do everything lovers could do, to leave some mark in his life so she could feel that Fang Jingcheng had, at one point, wholly and truly belonged to her. Not a bad plan, perhaps.

Now it was summer vacation, a rare time of freedom where she could do whatever she wanted.

No one could stop her.