Elena Shen swallowed nervously.
She didn't answer the question.
But Ethan Jiang had already gleaned the truth from her reaction.
He gently tapped the corner of her lips with his knuckles, as if soothing her growing anxiety.
"No need to be nervous," he said softly. "Let's do it again."
Elena blinked. Before she could react, his lips descended once more—bringing that same bone-deep, soul-trembling kiss. That unfamiliar, overwhelming sensation rendered her utterly helpless. But this time, she dared not bite him.
She let him press in, let him kiss her again and again. Only when the shivers of numbness and heat gave way to a sharp ache from the prolonged entanglement of lips and tongue did he finally let her go.
It felt as if all the air had been wrung from her lungs. When she could finally breathe freely again, she inhaled instinctively and deeply. Her lips stung with a fiery numbness, tingling and hot.
Her earlobes felt the same.
Though she couldn't see them, the burning heat told her they must be bright red.
Not wanting him to witness her current discomposure, she instinctively tried to bow her head under his deep, obsidian gaze.
But just as she lowered it an inch, a cool fingertip gently pinched her burning earlobe.
The stark contrast in temperature made her eyelids tremble uncontrollably.
She froze. Then came his voice above her head:
"Go take a shower."
"Will you be bathing alone, or shall we do it together?"
"I'll bathe alone!" she blurted without hesitation.
Ethan didn't press her on such a small matter. As soon as she spoke, he released her—along with the fingers that had been lightly pinching her flushed earlobe.
"You stay in the master bedroom. I'll sleep elsewhere tonight."
Elena responded with a muffled "okay," and only when the door closed behind him did the tension in her body finally unwind.
Her ears and eyelids still burned. She raised her hands and rubbed them fiercely before slowly, reluctantly making her way to the bathroom.
She moved sluggishly, but slow as she was, she eventually finished.
When she emerged, Ethan was in the corridor, talking on the phone with Eric Chen. Seeing the empty room helped soothe her nerves, which had been racing wildly since she'd stepped into the bathroom.
Looking down at the thin silk nightgown she wore, Elena bit her lower lip.
She wanted to find something warmer, but the closet Ethan had prepared for her only contained delicate, gauzy slips just like the one she had on.
Glancing around the cool-toned bedroom—identical to the one she'd seen after that night of drunken confusion—Elena stood by the bed. As if remembering something, she turned toward the not-quite-shut door and peered into the hallway.
Then, swiftly, she turned and made for the door.
But the moment she opened it, she collided straight into a solid chest.
Ethan caught her just in time, wrapping an arm around her waist. Looking down at the girl who had crashed into his arms, he clearly felt her stiffen the moment he touched her.
He didn't let go.
"Where were you headed?"
From the hallway, he had a clear view through the wide-open crack in the door. He'd seen her the moment she exited the bathroom.
After finishing his call with Eric, he'd walked back just in time to see her darting toward the door.
Elena rubbed her aching forehead and tried to retreat from his arms, but he wouldn't let her go. Unable to back away, she gave up resisting and simply said,
"I wanted to find a warmer set of pajamas."
Ethan's eyes lowered to scan her body.
The silk nightdress clung to her like a second skin, soft and cool against her fair, smooth complexion. The hemline wasn't too short—it reached her knees. From a normal angle, nothing indecent was visible. But the way it hugged her figure was deeply suggestive.
"It's not cold yet," he murmured. "You'll overheat in anything thicker."
He lifted her chin with his fingers, gazing into her wide, helpless eyes.
"Besides looking for clothes, was there something else?"
Caught in his stare, Elena didn't dare lie. Her mouth moved faster than her brain.
She shook her head. "No."
"Then go to bed."
The bedding was still that same cool, dark color—a stark contrast to her own soft, warm-toned bedroom. The sense of unfamiliarity is even more pronounced now.
Her mind was a mess, and her thoughts clouded by the lingering dizziness from his kiss. It wasn't until his hand slid to her lower abdomen—his palm warm against her skin—that her scattered thoughts snapped back into clarity.
"Wait!"
She jolted upright, her delicate fingers clamping around his wrist. Her eyes were glassy, wide with unshed tears, like a trembling little animal about to be bullied.
Her lips, already a bit swollen, now bore the faint imprint of her own teeth. Clinging to his wrist, her voice wavered with a hint of a sniffle:
"I'm only twenty... I haven't even graduated yet. I can't get pregnant…"
Ethan's gaze grew impossibly deep.
As their eyes locked, his stare darkened further. He let go of her waist and gave her lower back a gentle pat. His voice was low, quiet, like a stream flowing directly into her ears.
"There are condoms by the headboard. Feel around above you."
Elena blinked, a little surprised.
But under his steady gaze, she hesitantly reached up—and sure enough, her fingers brushed against a box with distinct edges.
Ethan pulled one out and placed it in her hand.
The glaring ceiling light snapped off, leaving only the soft, ambient glow of wall sconces to bathe the room in a warm hue—enough to see, but not enough to feel exposed.
The fine silk of Elena's slip was soon crumpled and bunched around her waist. Ethan's powerful arms wrapped around her, and the air grew thick and heavy with tension.
Time blurred. Elena's fingers, which had been gripping the sheets, tightened all the more. Even her brows knit tightly together.
Tears welled up in her eyes as pain, sharp and foreign, spread swiftly through her. Instinctively, she wanted to bite.
And she almost did. Her teeth hovered over his shoulder—but just as she was about to sink them in, a flicker of consciousness stopped her.
It was Ethan.
She couldn't bite him.
Miserably, she closed her mouth.
She tried to draw back, dragging both her head and her waist away from him.
But she barely moved two centimeters before his scorching palm gripped her lower back again, pulling her closer. Simultaneously, his other hand cradled the back of her head and pressed her gently into his shoulder.
Pinned by his strength, her lips brushed against the hard skin of his shoulder. Another wave of pain tore through her, and this time, a tear slipped down her cheek.
Then came his hoarse, low murmur, tinged with an almost tender reassurance:
"Just bite."
When Elena woke again the next morning, daylight had long since spilled into the room.
Her entire body ached. She stood buried beneath the covers, unwilling to move.
The moment the closet door opened and Ethan's voice reached her ears, she struggled upright—ignoring the sharp ache in her waist—just enough to peek out from under the blanket.
Ethan, already half-dressed, fastened his tie with practiced ease. His gaze landed on the cocooned figure in the middle of the bed.
"Do you need me to call the family doctor?"
Elena's eyes drifted to his shoulder, covered in visible bite marks from the night before. Her cheeks flushed crimson. She quickly averted her gaze and retreated back into the quilt, doing her best to keep last night's images from rushing back.
"N-No need."
Ethan turned back to the closet. From a row of suits and shirts, he selected a designer dress and brought it to the bedside, holding it out to the girl curled up like a snail in the covers.
"Everything from Yushan Residence has been delivered. Every piece of clothing, from your sleepwear to the latest haute couture. All your toiletries and personal items, too. From today on, this is your home now, Mrs. Jiang."
Elena was still recovering from the impact of him calling her Mrs. Jiang, when the second blow—you're moving in—landed.
She blinked, stunned.
"...Live here?"
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "I don't plan on living separately from my wife right after the wedding. Do you?"