EIP 26

Zhou Jun curled up on the sofa like a frightened bird, his back damp with sweat that had soaked through the fabric of his cheongsam. With Yong Jin holding a gun, he didn’t dare move. Provoking a man in that state could be dangerous. No one could predict what he might do if he snapped. Zhou Jun stared at the blood on his hand, and for the first time, real fear began to set in.

Beneath the shock lay a bitterness he could not shake. This young General Yong could switch moods faster than he could. What if his hand slipped and the bullet landed in Zhou Jun’s body instead? Sweat blurred his vision, collecting on his lashes and fogging his sight. He blinked hard, and when he opened his eyes again, Yong Jin was already on top of him.

Those fingers, still smelling of gunpowder, lifted his chin. Yong Jin leaned down and licked the blood off his face. Zhou Jun’s facial muscles twitched, and he gasped through his nose in short, shallow breaths. Yong Jin savored the metallic tang on his tongue, calmly observing the flush creeping over Zhou Jun’s eyelids, nose, and chin. A thin cut had opened on his left cheek. Though the bleeding had slowed, Yong Jin still wiped it away with a fingertip and smeared it across his lips like red lipstick.

Zhou Jun didn’t dare move. He had some fighting skills, but not nearly enough to take on someone like Yong Jin. The man gripped his waist and flipped him over. His knees sank into the soft leather. The cheongsam was lifted. Beneath it, he wore nothing but thigh-high silk stockings and the delicate clasps of a garter belt. A few drops of blood marked his skin, scattered like red birthmarks.

One drop slid down his tailbone, the rest pooling in the soft crevice between his cheeks. His pale flesh formed a valley, the torn garter belt now twisted around his waist like a wilted flower draped across his back. The cheongsam had been ripped open, exposing his spine and the two dimples just above his hips.

Zhou Jun braced himself on the sofa. When he heard the belt unbuckle, he let out a couple of sobs. His eyes burned painfully. He wasn’t sure if it was the sweat, but the stinging wouldn’t stop. Rough hands spread him apart. The careless touch made the sensitive skin quiver, and then a finger was abruptly thrust in.

The pain made him gasp. He reached back in a panic, trying to grab at the hand violating him. His tears finally fell. He had been shocked, frightened, humiliated, and questioned. Even a man made of stone would have snapped. A fierce light flashed in Zhou Jun’s eyes. He kicked back with all his strength.

Yong Jin hadn’t expected the outburst. The kick landed solidly, and he was knocked backward. Zhou Jun didn’t care how disheveled he looked. He leapt up and lunged forward, determined to make Yong Jin bleed too. He wanted to know what that man’s blood tasted like.

The room filled with the sound of crashing objects. Several things were smashed. Growing irritated, Yong Jin grabbed something and bound Zhou Jun’s wrists, then carried him into the bedroom.

This time he didn’t force his fingers in again. Instead, he rummaged through the desk, grabbed a jar of face cream, scooped out a handful, and shoved it inside. Zhou Jun exploded with curses, insulting Yong Jin from head to toe, sparing nothing.

His right leg was pinned down, the left gripped tightly. The feeling between his legs was slick and raw, a dull ache that twisted with each motion. When his throat went hoarse from cursing, he finally began to cry again, saying everything hurt and he didn’t want this anymore. Yong Jin pulled out his wet fingers, then stripped off his shirt and unzipped his black pants. His hardened member sprang free. Zhou Jun saw it and cried harder. If any of his earlier tears had been faked, these were real.

Maybe moved by his crying, Yong Jin’s expression softened. The fierce demon from earlier was gone. He even let Zhou Jun take a sniff of snuff tobacco. While Zhou Jun was still dizzy, Yong Jin positioned himself at his entrance and shoved in all at once. The daze vanished instantly. Zhou Jun screamed, legs kicking as his face turned pale, nearly fainting from the pain.

His breathing came in rapid, broken gasps. That familiar pain tugged at something in his memory. Disjointed fragments surfaced, tangled with long-forgotten erotic dreams. Everything became clear in that moment. Yong Jin had already slept with him once before. He had forgotten it all. But now, being taken again, the memories came rushing back.

Yong Jin stayed pressed against him, not moving. After a long pause, he sighed. “It’s too tight.” Zhou Jun clenched his teeth. He stole a glance down. Their bodies were connected, the place of entry buried deep in shadow. Yong Jin hadn’t even taken off his pants. His pubic bone pressed against Zhou Jun’s ass, and that thing inside him felt like fire, hot and insistent.

Zhou Jun bit hard into the nearest part of Yong Jin’s shoulder, only letting go when he tasted blood. “You bastard. You didn’t even use proper lube. Don’t you know your own size?” Yong Jin frowned slightly but didn’t respond. Zhou Jun reached down and felt around where their bodies met. It was slick but not bloody. He couldn’t believe it. The pain had been so intense he thought he had been torn apart. Yong Jin was too big. The slightly upturned head of his shaft had scraped along his inner walls as it pushed in, burning yet weakening him with every inch. That wetness, whether face cream or something his body had produced wasn’t something he wanted to think about.

He wanted to go slowly. Maybe, just maybe, if he acted uncomfortable enough, Yong Jin would pull out, just like in his dreams. With that hope in mind, Young Master Zhou started to cry again. His performance was a bit forced, but since he had already cried before, his eyelids were still red and moist. It was convincing enough. But Yong Jin didn’t stop. He tore the cheongsam open completely and stripped off the stockings and garter belt.

Zhou Jun could feel every motion of the thing inside him. He tried to force it out by curling his body, but it didn’t help. That thing was embedded deep. Each time it withdrew slightly, it thrust back in even harder. The rhythm turned fluid and unforgiving. The wet, sticky sounds between their bodies grew louder.

Zhou Jun was drenched in sweat, and he collapsed back onto the pillow. His body, stripped bare, looked like white jade against the dark bedding. His hair was a mess, his grey eyes misted over again. Yong Jin grabbed his legs and kissed them softly, all the while moving inside him. He kissed along the wounds, leaving trails of warmth over the lingering pain.

The bed creaked rhythmically. Even though it was sturdy, it couldn’t withstand the force. As it rocked, the curtains around it came loose and fell. The gauze veil barely concealed the sight of Yong Jin’s back, rising and falling with each thrust. Every muscle stood out sharply under the sheen of sweat. It sank into his skin, only to be flung away with the next motion. Beneath those strong thighs, Zhou Jun’s pale asss trembled. Soft and tender from a pampered life, they were now helpless, pinned beneath relentless power. He had tried to break free, but against a soldier’s strength, he stood no chance.

That thick shaft drove in again and again. As the pace quickened, the lower opening became wetter, and its owner turned more feral. He bit, he scratched, he grunted through gritted teeth. Even if he refused to admit he was feeling it, the truth showed in how tightly he held on, in the color of his flushed ears, in the soft sounds that slipped from his lips.

Zhou Jun began to feel sweetness beneath the pain, though his heart was still a mess. Being taken like this, he couldn’t help but think about the delicate flowers he once seduced and comforted. Now he had become the one conquered.

Yong Jin buried his face in his chest, sucking at a nipple until it swelled with cool moisture. When his breath blew across it, something ignited deep within Zhou Jun’s core, and the fire surged again.

Yong Jin kissed his lips. His tongue stirred inside his mouth messily. Below, his hips moved with renewed energy, and Zhou Jun’s whole body trembled from the impact. His thighs tightened around Yong Jin’s waist. The wet, sticky rhythm of their bodies grew louder.