Chapter 272 — Harp and Lute
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 1 of 4
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?