This man was inherently arrogant.
Though he had changed now, if she let him have his way, he would gradually surround and conquer her, just like night ultimately overwhelms the sunset, leaving not a drop remaining.
She wasn’t stupid. Trusting a man appropriately brought happiness, but total trust? That would be the end of her.
Zhuang Qiting took the blow and didn’t bring up remarriage again, keeping his expression gentle.
At dinner, he was very gentlemanly, cutting her steak neatly and carefully removing every bone from the steamed bass to feed her until she was full.
After dinner, Zhuang Qiting had work to handle while Li Yaru wandered the yacht alone. She found the wine cellar, which housed a luxurious billiards table.
Though a novice, she grabbed a cue and started playing for fun.
When she was interested in something, she delved deeply; when the interest faded, she quit.
Zhuang Qiting criticized her for lacking perseverance, but Li Yaru always shrugged it off, saying life was meant to be comfortable.
Why always strive and endure? Being hardworking was tiring. She was here to enjoy life, not to suffer.
Zhuang Qiting often had nothing to say.
Golf was probably Li Yaru’s most refined sport, and that was solely due to her stubbornness and refusal to lose.
She lined up a fierce shot. The colorful balls exploded across the table like fireworks.
Zhuang Qiting finished his work as quickly as possible and found her in the wine cellar.
She was wearing a satin fishtail dress, form-fitting.
When she bent over the table, her waist and back curves were perfectly displayed under the dim lights.
The satin shimmered like rippling water.
Her high heels clicked occasionally, accompanied by the crisp sound of the cue hitting balls. Watching this scene, Zhuang Qiting felt a little at a loss.
Li Yaru didn’t know how long he had been standing at the door, watching quietly.
When she was still puzzled about how to take the shot, the man finally spoke, “Lift your leg up, lean your whole body down, lower the cue, and strike crisply. You can pocket both the three and six balls at once.”
Li Yaru straightened up and tilted her head toward the voice, seeing Zhuang Qiting hidden in the shadows, arms crossed. She didn’t know how long he’d been there.
“You’re just talking big. How can I pocket two balls at once? The three and six balls aren’t even close. I’d be happy if I made just one.”
Zhuang Qiting smiled and leisurely approached her, his arms wrapping around her like a coiling python.
His rich breath fell on her head as he spoke calmly, “If you don’t believe me, I can teach you. If you make the shot, I want a reward.”
“What reward?”
“Tonight, I’ll be in charge.”
Li Yaru tapped him with the butt of the cue. “You’re asking for the moon! We’ll see if I make it first. You haven’t played for years and still think you’re at your peak?”
Zhuang Qiting smiled faintly. “Just a little bet. You don’t lose anything. Since I’m in charge, you won’t be disappointed.”
Li Yaru’s face flushed red. This scoundrel was getting more and more lecherous! He accused her of being a little minx, but he was the real seasoned old devil!
“Fine, bet it is. Can’t handle it?” Li Yaru lifted her chin and handed over the cue. “Your turn.”
Zhuang Qiting didn’t take it. Instead, he placed her hands back on the cue, then took hold of her delicate white hands himself.
His broad shoulders enveloped her. From behind, only her slender legs were visible.
“I said I’ll teach you.”
Li Yaru’s ears burned from his hot breath.
For some reason, she felt as if she had returned to their youthful romance when he used to teach her golf at the Water Bay Club, wrapping his arms around her from behind, holding her hands.
His hands weren’t delicate—his thick knuckles looked rough, his fingertips calloused, and warm. The instant his palm covered hers, Li Yaru felt dizzy.
She could no longer focus on the table or how he hit the ball. All she knew was that her palm was squeezed, her body bumped, and the balls fell one by one into the pockets.
In just a few seconds, two balls were sunk.
“All done,” Zhuang Qiting said gentlemanly, releasing her hands and placing his palms on her shoulders. “Tonight, I’m in charge, Ah Rou .”
Li Yaru’s ears flushed crimson. She led him in bed before, riding him, making him kneel and blindfolding him with his own tie, biting him so he couldn’t move.
Now that he was in charge…
She shivered, her heart pounding fiercely. The recent nights had been so thrilling and satisfying, she had forgotten how formidable and fierce Zhuang Qiting was in bed.
She stayed silent. Zhuang Qiting smiled, rubbing her tender earlobe. “Did you wash up? I’ll go wash first. Wait for me.”
Li Yaru glared, annoyed, dropping the cue and heading back to the bedroom, but he stopped her. “No need. Wait here, baby. Play a few more rounds.”
He moved briskly and disappeared from view within seconds. Li Yaru watched his crisp black suit pants, the black thin socks around his slender ankles, and immaculate crocodile leather shoes—all symbols of an unspoken mastery of control.
She grabbed a ball and threw it angrily into a pocket. Play? What play? She was just wasting time.
Tonight, the old man wouldn’t go easy on her.
Zhuang Qiting showered quickly; he was done in fifteen minutes while she needed an hour or two.
When he returned, he carried a scent both restrained and intense.
Still dressed in a perfectly tailored shirt and suit pants, he had changed into another pair of shoes.
His brows were refreshed, revealing a barely suppressed desire.
In his hands was a delicate pink lace nightdress and a matching pink eye mask.
Li Yaru: “……………”
She wasn’t playing this game! Before she could protest, the man approached and caught her chin to kiss her.
No teasing, no small talk—just an explosion of sparks like a meteor falling into a haystack.
His fiery lips traveled across her cheek, spreading to her ear and neck.
Li Yaru couldn’t stand the detailed, relentless kissing and tried to pull back, but with nowhere to retreat, her hands braced on the edge of the table.
Zhuang Qiting kissed her passionately, gripping her waist and lifting her effortlessly.
The next moment, she was sitting on the billiard table, her legs wrapped tightly around him.
“Ah Rou … baby…”
His voice was low and hoarse, gentle yet fierce in action. His hand tightened around her neck, forcing her to give in to him.
Sweet saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth, tongue swirling deeply.
Li Yaru couldn’t endure the intense kisses, her whole body arching backward until she was pinned against the table.
“Mm—” Li Yaru let out a soft moan.
He was like a wild beast, pretending to be tamed but suppressed for too long.
Given any chance, he showed his true self, wanting to devour her in the most frenzied way.
Zhuang Qiting pulled out his tie and tied her wrists, the pink eye mask coming into play.
Li Yaru plunged into darkness, her feet anxiously scraping his suit pants.
Her hair spilled over the table like strands of fluffy seaweed freshly pulled from the ocean. “Zhuang Qiting… don’t go too far, or else—”
“If you can’t take it, call me ‘husband.’ That’s the only safe word I accept.” He kissed her ear, his breath heavy and suppressed.
Li Yaru’s mind went blank. Safe word? He said safe word.
They had no taboos and tried all sorts of forbidden games before, but now that she was in her forties, what the hell was she playing at?!
A sharp ripping sound cut through her nerves—her shimmering delicate satin dress tore into useless rags.
He raised his hand and gently slapped her. Li Yaru bit her red lips, tilting her head back, her slender neck exposed and vulnerable.
“Baby, I’ll only make you happy,” the man’s hoarse voice was laced with dark intent.
He held her tightly, feeling their heat, scent, and heartbeats.
The disheveled fabric spread beneath them as Li Yaru neared collapse, limp on the billiard table, her feet resting on the edge.
Zhuang Qiting used the light to study his wife. She was so beautiful it sent shivers through his scalp, exploding his senses.
He kissed her like a snake, winding around her, licking her skin like a feline.
Li Yaru was completely under his control—another intoxicating experience that left her near fainting.
His strong arms held her tightly, radiating heat.
The surroundings disappeared; all she could feel was the rough pressure of his fingertips playing piano keys—nimble and rhythmic.
Zhuang Qiting suddenly pulled back, his fingertips heavily brushing her lips before kissing her again.
He alternated between calling her “baby” and “little thing,” making Li Yaru blush deeply, wishing she could bite him to stop.
Eventually, he carried her down from the table. Before she could steady herself, he flipped her over, pressing her upper body against the sturdy billiard table, bending her at ninety degrees.
The blindfold was removed. The table had been thoroughly abused but remained steady, solidly supporting its two unruly owners.
The torn satin dress lay to one side, soaked with moisture and the scent of passion.
Compared to English-style pool cues, American ones were rougher, more suited to power players.
Each strike was fierce and precise, hitting the balls dead center.
There was only one crystal-clear cue ball left on the table, and Zhuang Qiting examined every angle with his dark cue, searching for the perfect shot.
Li Yaru dug her nails into the table, breathing fast, frowning and closing her eyes, her mind drifting away to avoid watching the crazed man beside her.
But Zhuang Qiting forced her to lift her chin and meet his gaze. His deep, stormy eyes were like a net trapping her.
Li Yaru couldn’t bear his possessive look, especially since she was bruised and disheveled, lips and eyes reddened by his carefully trimmed stubble.
Just as she was about to close her eyes, she heard a stern command:
“Don’t close your eyes. Look at me.”
In her hazy vision, the man before her overlapped with the young Zhuang Qiting she remembered.
The young man always insisted on looking at her face, forcibly turning it toward him to see and kiss her.
He was strong but never selfish, always attentive.
Over the years, Li Yaru had realized that his insistence on seeing her expression wasn’t some twisted pleasure, but a way to gauge if she felt as much joy as he did.
When her expression twisted in pleasure, he became even more passionate and devoted.
Zhuang Qiting’s chest heaved, sweat beading on his tanned, muscular torso.
He stared at her flushed, dazed, and seductive face, then suddenly kissed her, whispering,
“I’ll satisfy all your desires, Li Yaru. Don’t look at those wild men—only look at me.”
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