The presidential suite was plunged into darkness, save for a single bedside lamp that cast a soft, warm glow, wrapping the opulently cold room in a gentle veil of warmth. From the bathroom, the sound of running water abruptly ceased, followed by the creak of a door being pushed open. A tall man emerged, clad only in a loosely tied bath towel that hung precariously around his waist.
He was breathtakingly handsome, his features chiseled as if carved by a master sculptor with a sharp blade, each line and angle perfectly proportioned to form a face of striking perfection. His smooth skin, bathed in the lamp's soft radiance, glowed with a healthy bronze hue, a testament to vitality and strength. His slender yet robust frame exuded an unyielding firmness, every muscle defined beneath the thin fabric of the towel. His jet-black eyes were bottomless, like a mysterious black hole brimming with untold power, capable of ensnaring one's very soul in an instant. His high, straight nose carried an air of arrogant confidence, reminiscent of a reigning monarch who commanded awe and reverence with a mere glance. There was an innate nobility and overwhelming dominance emanating from him, an aura that demanded submission without a single word.
The unfamiliar scent in the air caused Long Qingyue's dark eyes to instantly turn frigid. His sharp gaze pierced through the dimness toward the balcony curtains, a faint, sardonic curve tugging at the corner of his perfect lips. He turned leisurely toward the wine cabinet, his movements unhurried as he poured himself a glass of red wine. The exquisite crystal goblet held the crimson liquid, its rich hue glinting under the light, a sight both alluring and haunting.
He swirled the glass slowly in his hand, his posture lazy yet majestic, like a noble cheetah resting before a hunt. Yet his eyes grew colder still, as icy as the snowflakes falling on the coldest day of winter, devoid of any warmth or emotion. Tilting his head back, he downed the entire glass of wine in one gulp, the liquid sliding down his throat with a burning warmth. With a sharp clink, he set the goblet heavily on the bar counter, then strode purposefully toward the balcony.
With a sudden swish, he pulled back the heavy velvet curtains, revealing a trembling girl huddled in the corner. In one swift movement, he lifted her up effortlessly and pressed her firmly against the cold window pane. This woman was rather intriguing, he thought—far smarter than those who threw themselves at him, stripping naked in a desperate attempt to seduce him. She knew how to play games, to pique his interest with subtle tricks. But no matter how clever her ploys, in his eyes, she was nothing more than a petty clown.
To Long Qingyue, all women were merely tools for his pleasure, objects to satiate his desires and warm his bed—never would he waste even a shred of emotion on them. Despite the dim light, his naturally sharp eyes allowed him to see the girl clearly at once. She had a pair of extraordinarily beautiful eyes, bright and clear as polished ink jade, brimming with the radiance of the entire world, full of innocence, wit, and vitality. Coupled with the faint, cool fragrance that clung to her skin, a shiver of desire shot through his lower abdomen. She was truly a rare beauty, one who could stir a man's passions with just a single glance.
That unique scent of hers was particularly appealing to him. He loathed the cloying perfume and heavy powder that most women doused themselves in, but her fragrance was different—soft, misty, like the scent of lotus flowers drifting through a cool evening breeze, a cold yet delicate aroma that captivated his senses. It was a shame, really, he mused—she was nothing but a prostitute.
"Don't touch me, please…" Mu Nuanxin's voice trembled, her delicate face flushed with a feverish heat. The strands of hair on her forehead were soaked with sweat, clinging to her soft skin, and her tender lips parted slightly, like a fish gasping for air, utterly deprived of oxygen. She was tormented by the d*mn drug coursing through her veins, her body burning with an unbearable heat. The coldness of the window behind her and the touch of the man's warm hands sent a wave of pleasure through her, a craving so intense she could barely resist. Yet the last shreds of her sanity screamed at her to push him away, to fight against the desires threatening to consume her.
"Aren't you here to sell yourself?" The man's dark eyes suddenly blazed with an inexplicable anger. With a violent yank, he tore her thin dress in two, the fabric falling to the floor in tattered pieces, exposing her delicate skin to the cold air.
How hypocritical—she wanted to be a wh*r* yet pretend to be virtuous. He despised women like her the most; if one chose to sell their body, they ought to do it openly, without such feigned innocence. Bending down, he crashed his lips fiercely against her slightly parted pink ones, sucking deeply, the sweet taste intoxicating his senses. Long Qingyue had never been short of women—especially as a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth, countless women threw themselves at him, stripping bare to await his favor. Yet he had never kissed a woman's lips; he had a cleanliness fetish in this regard. But this time, he made an exception.
He did not know why—something about those eyes made him crave her kiss. And sure enough, he was not disappointed. Her taste was surprisingly exquisite, a fatal allure that clung to him as their lips met, drawing him in completely. Mu Nuanxin tried desperately to resist, but the drug Brother Leopard had slipped her was far too potent, its dosage overwhelming, leaving her utterly powerless. She could only follow her instincts, reaching out to wrap her arms around his rock-hard arms, her soft body pressing tightly against his to ease the unbearable burning passion within her.
It felt so good… yet it was far from enough. She wanted more, though she knew not what exactly she craved. Helplessly, she clung to his shoulders, her sanity long gone, surrendering herself to the man before her, the only one who could save her from the abyss she had fallen into. His smooth tongue slipped effortlessly into her mouth, tangling gently with hers. Mu Nuanxin knew nothing of kissing, responding clumsily by instinct, yet her drugged state made her response unusually passionate, igniting Long Qingyue's desire completely, his arousal swelling rapidly until it pressed against her softness.
He was by no means an ascetic man. A man of his status, wealth, and power was never lacking in female companionship. Yet she was the first woman who could arouse such intense desire within him with a single kiss. "Who would have thought you're such an enchanting little seductress," Long Qingyue murmured, lowering his lips once more to hers, savoring the taste that lingered on his tongue.
With a swift spin, they fell together onto the luxurious king-sized bed, their young bodies entangled tightly, no space left between them. Through blurred vision, their ragged breaths intertwined, echoing in the room. His cold body pressed against her scorching one, becoming the perfect antidote to her fever. The drug in her veins surged in waves, tormenting her, making her twist and submit beneath him, her clear, innocent eyes gazing up at him helplessly—an irresistible aphrodisiac for the man.
At that moment, the man's dark eyes were ablaze with passion, his once-prided strong self-control shattered completely in the face of this woman. Especially her innocent, pitiful demeanor, which made him crave to ravage her utterly. He had no desire to waste any more time; suddenly, he clamped his hand tightly around her slender waist, thrusting himself into her with all his strength. Mu Nuanxin cried out in pain, her forehead dripping with sweat, sinking her teeth into his shoulder as tears streamed down her cheeks. Yet the pain also alleviated the drug's grip, drawing a soft sigh of relief from her lips.
His movements were wild and brutal, while she lay beneath him, helpless to resist, forced to endure the agony that felt as if her body were being split in two by an ax. Heavy gasps, painful whimpers, and ambiguous moans intertwined, filling the room with a stifling, scorching heat.
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Chapter Table of Contents: It's Him
In the corridor, Lord Jue leaned lazily against the wall, his narrow black eyes casually resting on the cold, glinting dagger in his hand, twirling it gently between his fingers. Not far away, a beautiful young girl ran over anxiously, dressed exquisitely in a tight black mini skirt, her ten-centimeter high heels sinking into the soft carpet without a sound.
Lord Jue's dark eyes suddenly turned cold, his distant, sharp gaze piercing toward the approaching figure like two sharp swords, threatening to pierce her through in an instant. The girl was startled, stopping abruptly in her tracks, her voice trembling with fear. "I… I was ordered to accompany Young Master Yue, but something urgent came up at home, so I'm late…"
After hearing her words, Lord Jue frowned slightly, spinning around suddenly to glance at the door of the room before striding toward it. The two bodyguards standing guard bowed their heads immediately. Lord Jue held his breath, his long, powerful fingers resting gently on the doorknob, twisting it slowly before slipping inside.
What met his eyes was a scene of utter chaos: the man roared in satisfaction and ecstasy, twisting the woman into various obscene positions as he thrust fiercely into her. The woman whimpered in a mix of pain and pleasure, begging him repeatedly yet with a lingering allure that seemed to invite more. Even as calm and ruthless as Lord Jue was, his handsome face flushed slightly at the sight; he turned around quickly and retreated from the room.
It was a night of chaos, passion, and intimacy.
The next morning, streaks of sunlight, like golden threads, filtered through the curtains and spread across the floor. The man and woman on the bed lay back to back. The man breathed steadily, a contented smile curving his lips, as if lost in a sweet dream. But the girl behind him was not so fortunate—her snow-white body was covered with shocking purple and blue bruises, some from being pinched, some from being bitten, and others from kisses. Her long hair spread like messy seaweed over the white pillow, and she slept restlessly, her delicate eyebrows furrowed tightly.
"Ugh… it hurts…" A soft whimper escaped her lips as Mu Nuanxin slowly opened her eyes. Her body ached terribly, especially between her legs, which felt as if they had been torn apart. Her throat was dry and sore, and her head throbbed so violently she wanted to bang it against the wall. She raised a hand to her forehead, staring at the unfamiliar surroundings in confusion before sitting up suddenly, turning to glance at the naked back behind her.
Her black eyes fixed on that figure, fragments of the previous night flashing through her mind relentlessly. Last night, she had just returned home from school when she received a distress call from Ling Wei. Fearing for her friend's safety, she rushed to the bar at once. To save her friend, she had no choice but to drink the three glasses of wine Brother Leopard had prepared for her—unaware that they were laced with drugs. Later, to escape Brother Leopard's pursuit, she fled into this room… and then this man had appeared before her.
Recalling everything that had happened, her small face turned bright red with embarrassment. She had never imagined it would be him… Now, she only wanted to leave before the man woke up. Suddenly, the vibration of her phone startled her, and she jumped out of bed instinctively, pulling at the wound between her legs and gasping in pain. That man was nothing but a beast… she was in agony.
She hurried to answer the call, and her face paled drastically when she heard the words on the other end. Her clothes had been torn to shreds by the ruthless man, so she frantically grabbed his clothes and put them on. Nerves made her fumble with the buttons, taking seven or eight attempts to fasten just one.
As she slipped out of the room, the man still lay sound asleep. Mu Nuanxin dared not glance back, fleeing in haste, her steps quick and unsteady. The two bodyguards from the previous night still stood guard at the door; she forced a calm demeanor as she walked past them, and when they made no move to stop her, she quickened her pace, only to nearly collide with someone standing in her way.
"I'm so sorry!" Mu Nuanxin gasped, startled by the collision. Lifting her head, she was met with a face as cold as ice, its features striking yet unyielding. Flustered, she took two steps back, attempting to circle around him and escape, only to be blocked by his outstretched arm.
"Who are you, and what is your purpose in sneaking into Young Master Yue's room?" Yun Jue's eyes were icy, his gaze pinning her down like a predator, his voice laced with unbridled suspicion and coldness. Mu Nuanxin was terrified, stumbling back another two steps, the movement jostling the wound between her legs. A sharp pain shot through her, leaving her weak and unsteady, on the verge of collapsing.
"I… I'm not a bad person, and I have no ill intentions. Please, let me leave!" She bit her tender lower lip tightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, yet she stubbornly held them back, refusing to let them fall. She was the one who had suffered last night—she had lost her most precious virginity, the purest part of her life—and yet this terrifying man was accusing her, as if she were the culprit.
"Speak up—who sent you here?" Yun Jue's cold expression remained unchanged, unaffected by her delicate, pitiful appearance. If anything, his gaze grew colder, a menacing darkness swirling in his eyes as if he were about to devour her whole. Mu Nuanxin shook her head frantically, utterly confused by his question.
"No one sent me," she stammered, her voice trembling with fear and exhaustion. "I just wandered into this room by mistake… I have to go now…" Having spoken, she avoided his piercing gaze, determined to leave at once. But before she could take a single step, Yun Jue grabbed her roughly, slamming her against the cold wall behind her.
The harsh impact sent a jolt of pain through her body, and she frowned tightly, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling down her cheeks, glistening like broken pearls. "Will you speak?" Yun Jue's voice dropped to a low growl. Before she could respond, she noticed a cold, glinting dagger in his other hand. He raised it slowly, inching it toward her chest until the sharp tip pressed lightly against her skin, sending a shiver of terror down her spine.
"No one is manipulating me! What will it take for you to believe me?" Mu Nuanxin stared back at him, her eyes clear and unwavering, meeting his猎豹-like sharp gaze head-on. Remembering the urgent words on the phone, she steeled her resolve, suddenly slamming her chest forward against the dagger.
Yun Jue never expected this girl, who looked no more than eighteen or nineteen, to be so fiery and resolute. He felt the sharp blade pierce her soft chest, and for the first time in his life, his heart—hard as iron, unyielding as steel—fractured, a faint stir of emotion flickering within him. "Is this enough for you?" Mu Nuanxin gasped, pushing him away with all her remaining strength, her hand flying to her chest to stem the gush of warm blood that spilled forth.
Without another glance at him, she stumbled forward, her steps unsteady as she fled toward the exit, her body growing weaker by the second. This time, Yun Jue did not stop her. His eyes fixed on her fragile figure, which seemed ready to collapse at any moment, and his fingers tightened around the dagger, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.
※※※※※
Inside the suite, the door had barely clicked shut when the man on the bed opened his eyes. He rolled over comfortably, the snow-white sheets slipping down to his waist, revealing his sculpted, muscular chest. A look of utter satisfaction spread across his face, like a wolf that had been starved for far too long and finally satiated. It had been ages since he had felt such unbridled pleasure—last night had been intoxicating, the woman like a poppy, dangerous yet irresistible, luring him in despite knowing the risk.
Ten years… it had been ten years.
His sharp black eyes wandered casually to the dried, glaring crimson stain on the bed sheets. A faint, sardonic smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Last night, she had been as passionate as a seductress, urging him on, clinging to him time and time again, her demeanor so wanton and unrestrained that she could not have been a virgin. How laughable—she had played the innocent victim, yet her actions had betrayed her true nature.