The night spread like ink, the dim streetlights stretching long shadows across the quiet road, staining it with a cold sheen.

When the car finally stopped, Shen Yanxing was still frowning, as if he hadn’t fully come down from everything that had just happened.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and was about to open the door when a hand closed firmly around his wrist.

“Where are you going?”

Jiang Zhilin’s voice was low, threaded with something tightly restrained—
half control, half refusal to let go.

“Let go.”

Shen didn’t move. He merely turned his head slightly, his tone light, as though he had expected exactly this reaction.

“No.”

The grip on his wrist tightened a little—assertive, unyielding, not leaving room for negotiation.

Shen fell silent for a few seconds.
This time, he didn’t struggle.

A breeze slipped in through the open window, brushing his skin with a faint chill.

He said quietly, “At least let me shower first.”

Jiang watched him for a moment, weighing something, then loosened his hold.

“Together?”

The tone was unreadable—yet the implication hung heavily in the air.

Shen paused, his gaze meeting Jiang’s for a beat.
He didn’t answer. Just pushed the door open and stepped out, heading toward the apartment.

Steam thickened in the bathroom, the sound of running water slicing through the silence.
Droplets slid along defined muscle lines, catching flecks of light as they fell.

Shen Yanxing stood beneath the shower, letting the hot water pour over him—
as if it could wash away every trace of lingering unrest.

Until a presence drew near.

Jiang Zhilin stood behind him—without touching—
yet the heat of his breath brushed against Shen’s shoulder blades.

“Let me see your injury.”

Shen didn’t move.

The next second, Jiang’s fingertips traced lightly over his shoulder,
following the path of the water
until they reached the faint scrape along Shen’s waist.

A barely perceptible shudder ran through him.

“Does it hurt?”

Jiang’s thumb brushed over the reddened skin, voice low and quiet.

Shen gave a sharp scoff.
“A scratch like this? Hardly worth mentioning.”

“Oh? And what about here?”

His palm slid down along Shen’s waistline,
gliding over wet skin—
until his fingers touched a far more sensitive place.

“…”

Shen’s breath hitched,
his fingertips digging into the slick porcelain tile.

Jiang leaned close to his ear.

“Feels… a bit more sensitive here, doesn’t it?”

As the teasing murmur fell,
his other hand had already reached Shen’s chest,
a thumb pressing slowly over a small, tightening peak.

Shen’s breathing faltered,
one hand braced against the wall,
his back drawing taut under the heat and steam.

Water cascaded over their bodies,
the humid air thick with warmth—
skin against skin burning hotter than the shower itself.

“…ha…”

He let out a low breath, his nails digging into his palm.

“Jiang Zhilin.”

Unfortunately, warnings were something
that man never listened to.

Jiang Zhilin’s lips pressed to his shoulder blade, wet kisses trailing downward—
from collarbone, along the dip of his waist, finally slipping into darker places.

The sound of the shower faded into a backdrop;
breaths tangled with the patter of water,
as if the two of them were being swallowed by an endless whirlpool.

Just as his reason was about to completely collapse,
Shen Yanxing drew in a shaky breath—and pushed him away.

“Bedroom.”

“Later.”

Jiang let out a low laugh, his voice rough with restraint.

“I should take responsibility for you first.”

Before the words even settled,
his palm wrapped around Shen Yanxing’s length,
fingers closing in—gently kneading the heated pulse beneath.

With the slick ease of the shower gel,
his hand moved up and down, slow and deliberately intimate.

“Mm…”

Every so often Jiang tightened his grip,
his fingertips passing dangerously over the most sensitive spots,
making Shen’s breathing stumble,
his chest rising and falling with tightly suppressed tremors.

At the same time, his other hand slid up to Shen’s chest,
fingers rubbing over a flushed, trembling point—
sometimes circling, sometimes pinching lightly—
feeling the way it tightened under his touch,
shivering with delicate sensitivity.

“Ha… ngh…”

Shen Yanxing shuddered,
his back pressing against the warm tile,
water beading down his shoulders in tingling trails.

Soft breaths slipped through his throat,
his fingers unconsciously gripping Jiang’s arm,
as if seeking anchor more than resisting.

Feeling the growing hardness in his hand,
Jiang’s smile deepened.

His fingers slid lower,
stroking around the ridge,
mapping the shape at the top,
tracing slow circles around the damp tip—
pressing, rubbing the slightest dip where sensation peaked.

“—ngh!”

The sudden wave of pleasure arched Shen’s back,
his grip on Jiang’s arm tightening,
breath breaking apart.

“Feels good?”

Jiang lowered his voice beside Shen’s ear,
laughing softly as a teasing fingertip traced the swollen crown,
rubbing and coaxing along the most fragile seam.

“Hah… mm…”

Shen’s breath refused to steady;
his hips tipped forward on their own,
seeking more—
his body reacting with unguarded honesty.

Fingers trembled slightly,
a tight grip closing around Jiang’s wrist,
like a drowning man grasping for support.

“Mm…”

A muffled groan escaped Jiang,
his voice rough, heavy with restrained desire.

Watching Shen come undone only darkened his gaze further—
heat simmering so intensely it almost devoured the space between them.

A low, impatient sound slipped from his throat.
He squeezed some shower gel into his hand,
coating his own stiffened arousal—
the cool touch making him shiver,
breath faltering as he forced himself to keep control.

After spreading it evenly,
he guided his heated length downward,
pressing it snugly between Shen’s firm thighs,
his breath quickening as their heat melded together.

“…!”

Shen’s body jolted,
barely forming a word
before Jiang’s hips moved—
his heat grinding along the tight cleft of Shen’s ass,
dragging back and forth in slow, deliberate pressure.

Held firmly in front and rubbed hard from behind,
Shen’s mind blurred under the double assault.

“Hah… ah…”

His head tilted back uncontrollably,
breath shaking,
hips beginning to match Jiang’s rhythm,
desire rising and swallowing the last of his restraint.

“Mn… Shen Yanxing…”

A muffled groan slipped from Jiang’s throat,
low, rough,
thick with the restraint he was barely holding
and the desire threatening to break loose.

The moment he felt Shen trembling in his arms—
the subtle, instinctive tightness closing around his heat—
something in his mind fractured clean through.

His hand grew bolder,
stroking Shen’s length from base to tip,
expertly twisting, kneading, pumping—
while his hips rocked harder,
each thrust carrying a fierce, devouring intent.

“Hah… mm… ngh—”

Shen was long past holding back,
broken gasps spilling from between his lips,
his legs weakening,
his whole body moving helplessly in Jiang’s grasp—
dragged deeper into the rising waves of pleasure.

“Hah… I’m…—”

His mind dissolved,
a tightness coiling deep in his abdomen
until it finally snapped—
a trembling release tearing through him,
hot spurts slipping through Jiang’s fingers.

The violent contractions seized his body,
and at the same moment,
Jiang felt the tight pull around him,
a guttural groan ripping from his chest as he thrust sharply forward,
dragging himself over the edge with him.

“…hah—!”

Heat flooded between them,
spreading,
mingling.

Before Shen could fully come back to himself,
Jiang pulled him into his arms,
pressing soft, scattered kisses along his skin.

The aftershocks still rippled through him—
Shen’s breath sharp, chest rising unsteadily,
every limb tingling from the intensity.

But Jiang didn’t move away.

Instead, he resumed a slow roll of his hips,
his heated length still nestled against Shen—
sparking small, lingering shocks of sensation.

Wrapping his palm around Shen again,
Jiang stroked upward through the slickness,
fingers tightening deliberately.

Each glide squeezed firmer,
forcing out the very last threads of remaining pleasure—
not allowing anything to escape unfinished.

“Hah—! Ngh—stop…!”

Fresh stimulation crashed brutally over his oversensitive body,
making Shen jolt hard,
his moan cracking from the overwhelming intensity.

He tried to pull back—
but Jiang held him steady,
hips pinning him in place,
pressing heat against him with nowhere to run.

“We’re not done.”

Jiang’s voice dropped to a low, dangerous murmur,
thick with possession—and something darker.

His hand tightened,
thumb dragging precisely across the swollen tip,
pressing the most sensitive point again and again,
intent on drawing out every last drop.

“Hah—! Ah—mm—!”

Shen’s back shot rigid,
fingers gripping Jiang’s arm blindly,
breath shattering as pleasure dragged him under once more.

His legs trembled, threatening to give out;
the overwhelming stimulation left him unable to hold his own weight.

In the end, he sagged helplessly into Jiang’s embrace,
letting him control his breath,
his reactions,
every tremor running through his body.

Only when the final hot drop was forced out
did Shen shudder uncontrollably—
his strength dissolving all at once.

“Rinse off.
We can go to the room now.”

Jiang Zhilin curled his lips, giving Shen Yanxing’s waist a light pat—
satisfaction threaded through his voice,
along with a faint lingering afterglow that hadn’t fully faded.

Warm water cascaded down,
sliding over their skin
and washing away the remaining traces.

The way he moved was natural, almost intimate—
a warm palm gliding slowly down Shen Yanxing’s spine,
fingertips occasionally giving a light, deliberate squeeze,
as though confirming the faint tremors that still lingered in Shen’s body.

At the corner of Jiang Zhilin’s lips rested a trace of aftershock,
along with a heat of desire that hadn’t fully faded.

Shen Yanxing said nothing—
just looked at him in silence,
dark eyes blurred by the rising steam.

“What’s wrong?
Don’t want to go to the room?
Or…”

Jiang dipped his head,
pressing a feather-light kiss onto Shen’s damp hair.
His breath brushed against the flushed shell of Shen’s ear,
his voice dropping low,
tone unmistakably suggestive.

“Do you want to keep going?”

The warm exhale fell against tense skin,
and Shen’s shoulder trembled ever so slightly.

“Shut up.”

Shen’s lashes quivered as he finally spoke,
his voice low and restrained.

He didn’t step back,
nor did he lean in—
simply stood there,
his fingers unconsciously curling inward.

Jiang watched him,
a quietly meaningful smile flickering in his eyes.

His hand slid downward over damp skin,
tracing the gentle arc of Shen’s spine—
his fingertips leaving behind a faint heat,
seeping slowly into muscle and memory.

“All right,
then let’s go to the room first.”

He let out a soft laugh,
his tone light—
a mix of regret and satisfaction,
as if savoring the lingering warmth
of prey that had slipped just out of his grasp.