His voice as he opened the door made the master bedroom feel even more unnervingly silent.
Lin Zhishui suddenly chose to step away from the door she had been pressing against, like a small animal sensing danger and fleeing, hiding beneath the dark golden curtains.
Her body, slick with fine sweat, felt a chill as she instinctively pressed herself tightly into the corner.
However, in this atmosphere of extreme tension, she inadvertently exposed an ankle beneath the hem of her skirt—only to have a strong hand, beautifully defined with taut tendons, suddenly grip it.
It was Ning Shangyu breaking through the door.
By the time Lin Zhishui’s mind registered this fact, it was already too late.
The grip on her ankle was powerful, yanking her roughly out from under the heavy layers of curtains.
Her eyes widened in shock, and before she could cry out, the world spun wildly, and she was already pinned down on the black velvet bed.
When her vision cleared, it met Ning Shangyu’s intense gaze head-on.
This time, she saw herself reflected in his golden amber pupils—helpless, wanting to escape, but Ning Shangyu leisurely pulling a leather belt from his suit trousers.
The belt, soft and supple like lambskin, was wrapped tightly around her wrists, then forcefully secured to the headboard.
“N-N-N-Ning Shangyu…”
Lin Zhishui’s voice trembled alongside her pounding heartbeat, spilling out brokenly from her lips.
“I apologize, okay? I won’t make the same mistake again, I apologize, I apologize!”
In the darkness, Ning Shangyu lowered his chest toward her.
The faint alcohol scent lingering on his suit still hadn’t fully faded; the strong smell wildly muddled Lin Zhishui’s thoughts.
His high, sharp nose brushed against her neck, full of predatory intent, and he whispered a few words, “I refuse to forgive you.”
As the words whispered in her ear, a crisp slap landed sharply on her buttocks.
The soft, fair skin instantly blushed a scorching pink.
Lin Zhishui endured the punishment, instinctively tilting her head back.
The startled cry that escaped her lips was only a shaky gasp.
Even her knees struggled in vain as her skirt was torn open.
The looming black silhouette of Ning Shangyu, tall and imposing, enveloped her in an overwhelming intensity.
One slap was followed by a heavy strike.
Ning Shangyu’s expression remained impassive as, through the thin fabric of his cocktail-soaked trousers, he pressed down hard, pinning her firmly onto the black velvet sheets.
Strike after strike echoed loudly, shaking the bedposts against the pristine floor, leaving clear scratches and forcing the bed to shift positions.
Pillows and blankets were violently tossed off.
Lin Zhishui was equally shaken, her heart racing wildly.
Her fingers clenched tightly around the leather belt binding her wrists, nails digging deep into the material.
Not knowing exactly where Ning Shangyu was hitting her, she suddenly curled into herself, wincing in pain, her brows furrowing tightly.
“I feel so awful, Ning Shangyu, please don’t… ah!”
In response, Ning Shangyu’s dark gaze locked onto her as he slammed the headboard against the wall.
The impact shook the entire wall as if it were about to crack open with delicate, intricate fractures, threatening to collapse.
The room remained dim and silent, as if only moments had passed.
Lin Zhishui slowly regained her senses from the dizziness, her moist eyes trembling as they fixed on the handsome face so close to her.
Ning Shangyu’s arms supported her on both sides.
Muscles tensed beneath his suit jacket traced out a sensual outline along his back.
His warm breath rose and fell silently against her skin.
When he showed no sign of restraining his strength, it was terrifying.
Lin Zhishui’s mind was faint and hazy, feeling as though half her life had been knocked out of her.
The thin fabric rubbed hotly against her skin, warmth spreading all the way to her heart.
Her wrists remained tightly bound.
At that moment, Ning Shangyu’s slender fingers, adorned with a ring, pinched her cheek and lifted her face.
He bent down and began kissing her fiercely.
This secret, intense intimacy was like a plunder, the heat from his kiss spreading rapidly to her very bones.
The kiss lasted a long, long time—at least half an hour.
Lin Zhishui nearly melted into his breath before finally gasping for fresh air.
She had no intention to struggle anymore, crushed into softness, curling up innocently and tenderly.
Ning Shangyu seemed intent on crushing her, like a pure silk fabric being ruined—his obsession wildly growing.
Then his Adam’s apple bobbed as his voice dropped into a rare husky tone, slow and calm, “Want some wine?”
His words sounded to Lin Zhishui like asking, “Do you want to accept two-thirds of me?”
There was no difference at all.
She couldn’t tell if she was afraid of his overwhelming vitality or craving it, wanting him to kiss her again yet fearing he’d go too far.
Her rosy lips worked over the question for a moment before she whispered, “I do.”
Her wrists, finally freed from the leather bindings, relaxed.
But her body felt like it had lost its structure.
Her sore buttocks burned painfully from the spanking, making it impossible to walk properly.
Her knees brushed against the suit fabric as she clung to his strong waist, seeking support.
Ning Shangyu easily lifted her in one arm.
This little bundle of fluff was almost weightless to him.
He took the elevator down to the second basement—the wine cellar.
The space was always kept at a constant temperature and luxuriously appointed, with floor-to-ceiling glass cabinets lining all four walls.
Inside were rare vintages of fine wine, all acquired through high-stakes auctions.
Lin Zhishui’s eyes darted around, overwhelmed by the dazzling collection.
He placed her gently in a soft leather chair, where she curled up, hugging her knees and sitting quietly, waiting.
Ning Shangyu turned and opened one of the glass cabinets.
Though appearing casual, he carefully selected over a dozen bottles of Western liquor from the year Lin Zhishui was born.
With her curious gaze upon him, he poured out liquids with colors purer and more dazzling than the cocktail she’d had earlier.
“They’re beautiful,” Lin Zhishui murmured, drawn in.
She leaned forward slowly, reaching out to gently touch the wine with her fingertips.
What lifted her spirits even more was that he poured a glass of sapphire blue.
Then, Ning Shangyu lifted his eyelids and glanced over her face for a second, clearly amused by her amazement.
She didn’t realize that when she was bent over earlier, her exposed white buttocks were slightly swollen, already marked with handprints.
His long, strong fingers paused for a moment before he picked up another unopened bottle, this one the color of strawberry jam, and poured out a glass of rose ruby wine for her to see.
One glass after another…
Lin Zhishui’s slightly widened pupils focused intently on Ning Shangyu’s expert technique.
In less than ten minutes, he had neatly arranged those rare, translucent wines—like precious gemstones infused in water—on the spotless island countertop right before her eyes.
The aroma wafting from the rims was thick yet sweet, signaling a high alcohol content.
Lin Zhishui stared fixedly for a long moment.
Ning Shangyu tapped the marble edge with a knuckle, snapping her back to reality.
His thin lips curved into a mischievous, teasing smile as he asked, “Want to try some?”
Lin Zhishui hesitated, a little timid, as if she sensed a price to pay.
After a few seconds, she spoke slowly and diplomatically, “Your two-thirds will overwhelm me.”
Ning Shangyu seemed to understand, his gaze deepening under the bright lights as he paused on her before saying, “If you can’t handle it down there, how about up here?”
Lin Zhishui immediately understood where his eyes had landed.
Her lips tightened nervously.
Ning Shangyu’s demeanor was more relaxed here than in the master bedroom—lazy as he sat on a black leather chair nearby, his posture lofty and commanding.
His legs, wrapped in his suit trousers, were long and slender, every line exuding sharp danger.
Lin Zhishui’s nature meant she was easily drawn to colorful things.
If she hadn’t tasted that cocktail tonight, she’d probably regret it for life.
Faced with the two options of which part of her would be overwhelmed—upstairs or downstairs—she decided quickly.
She reached out first, her fingertips like little stars crawling slowly up his thigh.
Though hesitant, their familiarity was a comfort.
As long as he didn’t punish her dangerously, it was like a quietly lurking beast—intense, but not outright perilous.
Ning Shangyu’s proud face was calm as he watched her fluttering lashes and the redness of her tongue.
The next moment, Lin Zhishui took a deep breath to steady her wild heartbeat.
She picked up a glass of the rose ruby wine, held it up to her eyes, but did not drink immediately.
She glanced up at Ning Shangyu and then slowly poured a little onto the top of the glass.
It was the second time tonight.
The thin fabric of Ning Shangyu’s suit trousers clung to his thigh muscles, their lines clearly visible.
The scent of strong liquor wafted up sharply, as if suppressing something beneath.
Lin Zhishui’s pale face was bowed, her movements delicate and curious as if watering a prized mushroom she’d nurtured since childhood.
Her eyes wide open, she quietly watched the rose liquid flow down.
Then, like a timid little animal, she gently stuck out a small, wet red tongue tip to taste it.
It wasn’t peach-flavored.
It was a strong, concentrated alcoholic taste with a faint strawberry aroma… quite pleasant.
After less than ten seconds, she was slightly choked but swallowed it down.
She lifted her head cautiously and watched Ning Shangyu’s reaction.
At some point, he had lit a black cigar.
Its smell was stronger than the wine, and wisps of smoke curled up, veiling his handsome face in a dreamlike haze.
Like a mirage.
Lin Zhishui, sensitive as she was, noticed that whenever she indulged a bit more, Ning Shangyu smoked more heavily.
As he kept pouring her glass after glass of increasingly vibrant wine, the tension in her heart gradually eased.
It was as if she had discovered a fun little game only she could play.
Pour, taste, cleanse, repeat.
Her voice trembled softly like a whisper, “Mmm, it’s minty, so cool, so cool.”
The last glass.
Lin Zhishui’s lips, already reddened, curved slightly as she reached to pour another.
Ning Shangyu suddenly grasped her wrist.
Between lighting and extinguishing a cigar, his voice rare and husky said, “Zhishui, drink more.”
His tone was nearly an intimate command.
Lin Zhishui was already somewhat drunk and dizzy.
She looked at him following his voice.
His fingers holding the burning cigar traced lightly over her delicate throat bone, “Right here, hmm?”
“May I?” Lin Zhishui was already tired but seriously considered that Ning Shangyu was a good man.
Tonight he had prepared so many beautiful, delicious wines for her; what else could she refuse?
She squeezed out a pure smile, murmuring, “Then I’ll start.”
The color of the wine was fiery and gem-like.
Its taste burned fiercely like flames spreading rapidly from her tongue to her throat, causing her curled eyelashes to tremble.
Too strong!
Lin Zhishui instinctively wanted to spit it out.
The next second, the soft back of her head was gently covered by Ning Shangyu’s palm, like a wisp of smoke.
His strength was surprisingly powerful, allowing no resistance.
Forcefully, he made her swallow it all while becoming more clear-headed.
The wine cellar was in disarray—fragile glasses toppled and scattered everywhere.
No one cared anymore.
Back in the master bedroom, even without turning on the lights, moonlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows was enough to brighten the dim room.
Lin Zhishui lay with her face pressed into the pillow, the soft glow illuminating her exhausted expression.
This time, her lips weren’t chapped but circled red, dusted with the reddest rouge.
In her hazy mind, she sensed Ning Shangyu had taken a cold shower and casually returned wearing only a bathrobe.
Within moments, he had pulled her fragile, alcohol-weakened body into his arms.