Chapter 272 — Harp and Lute

Song Yan felt only that the bundle in his arms was fragrant and warm, like a soft piece of jade, making his blood race and his heart pound; he felt no pain at all, and instinctively rolled over.

Dou Yan was greatly alarmed; in her panic she pressed both hands against Song Yan's chest.

Their eyes met.

Song Yan's eyes were bright and shining, like cold stars in the night sky, glittering with brilliant light.

Dou Yan's eyes went wide, her face full of astonishment.

In the silent inner chamber, heavy breathing gradually arose.

Song Yan's eyes were tinged with a hazy mist.

"Shouyuan!" he murmured softly, slowly bending down.

Dou Yan sensed "danger."

Yet into her mind floated the image of Song Yan riding hard and travel-stained to the farmstead outside Zhending where she lodged, gazing at her from atop the wall at the farmstead's edge; the image of him toying with the inkstone beneath the lamp, lifting his head to ask with a smile whether her father would like it, fretting over gain and loss; the image of him curled up cautiously at the edge of the bed... Her heart was instantly in turmoil, a conflict of feelings at the crucial moment.

Should she push him away? Or let him do as he pleased?

To push him away—she could not bear it.

To let him do as he pleased—the memories of her previous life still lingered within her; in reason she knew she should blend into this affection as quickly as possible, but in her heart she still found it hard to let go and act without scruple.

In her hesitation and conflict, she bit her lip, turned her face aside as if in flight, and gave him a gentle push.

Yet two rosy clouds rose unbidden upon her cheeks.

Dou Zhiwei's refusal jolted Song Yan's heart and brought him to his senses. But the blush covering her delicate, lovely face made him realize at once that if Dou Yan truly had no feeling for him, she could have shoved him away hard, or glared at him in fury... yet Dou Yan had only given him a gentle push and turned her face aside.

Her pale, soft earlobe, round and full, tempted Song Yan's gaze.

When there was no opportunity, one had to create one—and now, how could there be a better opportunity than this...

Song Yan did not hesitate at all; he took that pale earlobe between his lips, and inadvertently brushed against Dou Zhiwei's sensitive spot.

Dou Yan felt as though struck by lightning, her whole body going limp and numb.

"Yantang, don't..." She turned her face away.

Song Yan obediently released her, yet keeping close to her cheek, he took her lips while she was still speaking.

"Yantang..." Dou Zhiwei cried out in surprise, and it melted into a soft whimper.

Song Yan was like a clumsy hunter, instinctively chasing her sweetness, stirring heavily between her lips and teeth, blocking her so that she could scarcely breathe.

Fool!

Fool!

Dou Yan cursed inwardly, struggling beneath him with a sob.

His tongue was nimble and strong; she could not manage even to bite him.

Would she not suffocate to death?

The thought flashed through her mind, and Song Yan withdrew.

She gasped for breath in great gulps.

Song Yan was gasping in great gulps too, yet the look he bent on her was deep and unfathomable.

"Shouyuan!" Before she could catch her breath, he bent down again, his left arm circling her supple waist and pinning her tightly beneath him, his tongue slipping nimbly between her lips. As he lingered and suckled and kissed, his right hand stole quietly into her garment, groping until it closed over her breast; his fingers began to tease the bud at her breast as though plucking the strings of a lute, while between her thighs something hard pressed painfully against her.

Song Yan's passion seemed to blaze up in an instant.

Dou Yan's whole body trembled.

If she did not stop him, she well knew what would happen next.

But if she did stop him—proud as Song Yan was, what would become of him then?

Would he flee in confusion? Or would he calmly release her, and for the sake of his pride pretend it did not matter, each retiring to their own rest?

She was his wife; he had the right to have her, yet out of respect for her wishes he had let himself be reduced to such a sorry state.

Either way, Dou Yan's heart ached at the thought of it.

Had she known this would happen, she should have refused him outright when he pressed her beneath him.

Dou Yan regretted it deeply.

But now it was too late to refuse again.

As if sensing her hesitation, Song Yan's arm about her waist tightened, the tongue lingering between her lips grew more wanton, and the hand cupping her breast began to knead it, neither lightly nor roughly.

A fierce numbness surged from deep within her body in wave after wave, spreading to her every limb and bone.

That familiar yet unfamiliar feeling frightened her.

Familiar, because she too had once known such passion, if only briefly; unfamiliar, because that feeling was now so far away from her that she had almost forgotten it.

"Song Yantang!" Dou Zhiwei's voice spilled from Song Yan's lips, sounding somewhat fragmented, betraying an unmistakable panic.

Song Yan suddenly released her, gazing fixedly into her eyes, as if he meant to see through them and read her body and soul entirely.

Dou Yan was deeply uneasy.

He felt that whatever he said would be inappropriate.

Yet saying nothing seemed inappropriate as well.

How had things come to this pass!

Song Yan was still only a youth who knew nothing of the world.

When all was said and done, it was his own fault.

Dou Yan felt a twinge of vexation.

Then Song Yan suddenly smiled.

Mirth rippled through his clear, shallow eyes, and even the corners of his slightly upturned lips grew alluring.

Dou Yan was transfixed.

Song Yan began to undress.

Dou Chijin's eyes went wide.

His figure was remarkably well proportioned, the lines at his waist especially graceful; he looked thin, yet never gaunt, his skin like jade, giving off a faint luster within the dim bed curtains.

Song Yan laughed aloud. "Shouyuan, Shouyuan, how is it you are so amusing!"

He bent down and kissed her eyelids, utterly intimate.

Dou Yan's heart pounded wildly, her face flushing crimson. "No... I..." But she could not speak for dismay.

No matter how she might protest, she could not deny the fact that she had just been staring at Song Yan's naked body.

"Shouyuan!" Song Yan called to her softly. "I very much like Shouyuan looking at me like that." He spoke gently, joy spilling bit by bit from the corners of his eyes, bringing with it a heat that set the face burning and the heart racing.

How utterly mortifying!

Dou Zhiwei's face was aflame.

Song Yan cradled her face and tenderly kissed her forehead, her long brows, the corners of her eyes, her red lips... as though she were a rare treasure, her whole being held in his palms, cherished and protected beyond measure.

Dou Yan's chest swelled with feeling.

Song Yan grew fierce.

He kissed Dou Yan hard, his tongue running wanton and teasing between her lips, churning wildly as though he meant to devour her, leaving Dou Yan short of breath and writhing beneath him.

Her collar fell open, and her garments were peeled away one by one.

By the time Dou Yan realized it, she wore only a single undergarment, her tender breasts rising like slightly unripe honeyed peaches, standing proudly before Song Yan's eyes.

This scoundrel... had mastered it all without a teacher...

For some reason, Dou Yan wanted very much to laugh.

Yet a strange light flickered through Song Yan's dark pupils. He lowered his head and took the flower-bud-like tips into his mouth, sucking and nipping without restraint.

Dou Yan gasped sharply.

Yet a numbing pleasure spread from her breasts, setting her whole body aflame, until even the pain from Song Yan's occasional roughness turned into threads of sweetness that made her tremble.

Dou Yan was aghast.

In the past, she had not been like this.

She had loathed all roughness, taking it as a sign of disrespect.