Mohuluojia

Yusu looked at me, her back against the wardrobe with nowhere to escape. I crossed the room in a few strides and stared at her brazenly, hooking a finger under her sash. “Are you still afraid of me seeing you?” I said deliberately. “I’ve seen you wearing far less than this.” With just a few tugs, the clothes she had hastily put on slipped from her body again. She began to push me away, but we had been together for hundreds of years. Did she really think I didn’t know how to make her submit?

I let my lips wander over her body. She gradually softened, though she kept trying to push me away, unable to resist me. “Qing, you can’t do this,” she said. I looked at her. Why couldn’t I? If I couldn’t, then was Xu Xuan allowed to?

I thrust into her, and the pain drew a soft cry from her. It was the first time I had taken her against her will. I held her tightly, and she struggled in vain, forced to let me do as I pleased. She pressed her lips together, and so did I. Our bodies were so close, yet our eyes glared at each other. A dense ache filled my heart, as if a sharp blade had cut through it. We used to be so good together, didn’t we? Why had things become like this?