Plunder

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The fierce activity in bed was in full swing, shadows overlapping under the lights, rising and falling together, their movements wild, the atmosphere scorching.

Just then, Qiao En's phone rang.

The buzzing sound was jarring and piercing.

Normally, she would have set her phone to silent before such moments, but tonight she had forgotten.

She was on her knees on the bed, her body arched in an awkward position.

While coordinating with Jin'an's movements, she reached out to grab her phone.

It was a call from Jin'an's mother.

A pang of anxiety shot through Qiao En, and her hand shook, causing the phone to slip under the bed.

The buzzing continued.

Jin'an's mood had been interrupted.

He was normally tireless, never stopping until she begged for mercy.

At that moment, he lost his rhythm, propping her up with one hand on her waist, his thrusts both hard and fast.

It was as if he was punishing her for being distracted.

The battle ended quickly, and Jin'an got up and went into the bathroom.

He had a habit of taking a bath after sex.

Soon, the sound of running water filled the air.

Qiao En scrambled out of bed and knelt down to pick up her phone.

Mrs. Zhou's call was still coming through.

She quickly answered, and Mrs. Zhou's voice immediately came through.

"He's getting married. You know what to do, right?"

Qiao En's grip on the phone tightened slightly.

But her tone was as calm as ever.

"Don't worry, I know."

She had always known she was just a pawn in Mrs. Zhou's hands.

Being someone else's pawn meant understanding that when you are of use, you are a foot soldier crossing the river, charging into battle; but once you're no longer valuable, you are a discarded piece, expected to know your place and retreat back to your position.

Only, she hadn't expected that day to come so suddenly.

After hanging up, Qiao En picked up Jin'an's cigarettes and lighter and went to the balcony.

Her fingers awkwardly fumbled several times before the lighter finally sparked a flame.

His cigarettes were all custom-made, not available on the market.

The tobacco golden, the smoke crisp in her throat.

She leaned lazily against the railing, her slender fingers holding the cigarette, lips parted slightly, inhaling softly, and then slowly blowing out a ring of smoke.

Long and lingering.

After three years by Jin'an's side, Qiao En had learned to keep her emotions hidden.

Even if a thousand waves surged within her, her face remained as calm as a gentle breeze and clear sky.

Footsteps rustled behind her.

Quickly, Qiao En flicked the half-smoked cigarette butt into the night sky.

She turned slightly, resting one hand on her cheek, her eyes gazing at the pitch-black night as if admiring the view.

"Who was calling so late?"

Jin'an walked towards her, barefoot.

He was tall and muscular, with a narrow waist and well-defined muscles, a towel casually tied around his waist, the lines of his V-cut barely visible.

Water droplets glided down his tawny chest muscles, converging at his waist.

His wildness was unmistakable.

As he passed by the bed, he picked up a thin blanket and handed it to Qiao En.

The temperature in April wasn't low.

But as Jin'an approached, Qiao En felt a chill.

She grasped the corners of the blanket and wrapped herself up tightly like a dumpling.

"A client, it's work-related."

Qiao En lied.

But then again, she didn't lie.

After all, Mrs. Zhou truly was her client, only Jin'an was not aware of it.

Her bewitching eyes were lowered; she did not meet his gaze.

Fortunately, Jin'an didn't suspect a thing.

He reached out and tightened the blanket around her, "Work matters can be dealt with during office hours. It's late, you should rest early."

After speaking, he turned and walked back to the bedroom to get clothes from the wardrobe.

Qiao En knew that this was the time when Jin'an would leave.

He didn't stay overnight here.

This was the rule she had silently observed for three years.

He was used to it, and so was she.

Not asking too much was an act of tact.

Not being demanding was being sensible.

In this regard, she was self-taught and had earned his deep appreciation.

He grabbed a shirt and began putting it on, buttoning up in front of the mirror, from top to bottom, methodically.

In the mirror, his handsome face was angular and sharp.

He was not prone to smiling; his brow furrowed, his face drawn, it was his usual expression.

A pair of cold eyes embodied determination and depth.

They were like a deep pool, bottomless, with a deadly allure that made people fall in involuntarily.

Even as clear-headed as Qiao En, who knew from the start that she and Jin'an had no future, she couldn't help but fall for him.

"I'll help you with your tie."

Qiao En stepped closer, took his tie from the hanger, and tiptoed to loop it around Jin'an's neck.

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Cool fingers inadvertently brushed across the burning adam's apple.

This was Zhou Jin'an's most sensitive spot.

Every time passion poured forth, she intentionally teased him with the tender tip of her tongue, making the blood in his entire body instantly boil.

At that moment, he was like a wild horse that had thrown off its reins, free, wild.

"What are you thinking about?"

Seeing Qiao En in a daze, Zhou Jin'an tapped her forehead lightly and asked.

"Thinking of you."

She smiled warmly, her eyes bending into crescents.

Half true, half false.

Just like a female version of himself.

"Aren't you still here? What are you thinking of me for?"

The corners of his mouth twitched, a faint smile seeping out, which disappeared as quickly as it had formed.

Zhou Jin'an was exceptionally good at hiding his emotions; anger, joy, sadness—almost no trace could be found on his face.

By contrast, the innate dignity, aloofness, and nobility he possessed seemed to keep people a thousand miles away.

"Thinking that you would stay tonight."

Qiao En, holding the tie at both ends but not knotting it, locked eyes with Zhou Jin'an, her gaze bewitching.

Zhou Jin'an did not immediately respond, but instead looked deeply at Qiao En.

She had made such a request before, only, he had always chosen to ignore it.

There was a bit of chauvinism in Zhou Jin'an's bones; he was not fond of women taking the initiative to make requests.

Qiao En was fully aware of his temperament.

So, knowing this but acting anyway, the result was, of course, inevitable.

"Just kidding."

Qiao En gave herself an out.

The person who intended to leave could not be held back, and it wasn't as if she didn't understand that.

She smiled playfully, withdrew her gaze, and with her hands still holding the ends of the tie, skillfully twisted it into a neat knot.

However, before she could admire her handiwork, Zhou Jin'an pulled it apart.

"Fine."

He replied.

Lights off, to bed.

The scent of desire entwined in the air.

Wanting to sleep, yet unable to fall asleep.

Zhou Jin'an lay flat on his back with his hands crossed on his abdomen and his eyes tightly shut, eyebrows still furrowed.

Like a little kitten curled up to one side, Qiao En stole glances at him.

She was sure he was feigning sleep.

Zhou Jin'an was quite restrained when it came to bedroom affairs; though bold and good at the fight, he never indulged.

He wasn't a man who sought quantity, but the explosive and enduring power he possessed was extraordinary, belonging to a high-caliber kind.

Qiao En dared not provoke him easily.

After all, the consequences of provoking him were not something she could necessarily withstand.

Tossing and turning, turning and tossing.

She had wanted to turn away to put some distance between them, but he circled her with an arm, pulling her directly into his embrace.

"Not full?"

He teased, the corners of his lips turning up slightly, those lacquer-like eyes shimmering with a mocking smile.

Enshrouded in the night, he was unlike the person he was by day.

Zhou Jin'an of the daytime was like a solemn Buddha, too serious, too stoic.

To be admired from a distance, but not to be played with.

But at night, he wore a different face.

Not at all serious, even slightly frivolous.

To Qiao En, however, this Zhou Jin'an seemed real, tangible, like a living being.

He took the lead in speaking unreservedly, and she did not pretend either.

"Could still have some late-night snack."

Qiao En propped her head with one hand while the other reached for Zhou Jin'an's chest, her fingertips drawing circles on his solid pectorals.

Years of fitness gave him well-rounded, firm pectorals.

Both the visual and tactile sensations were excellent.

"Eat on your own, or shall I feed you?" he asked bluntly.

Qiao En's answer was no less direct.

"I'll feed you," she voluntarily kissed him.

Two vine-like arms wrapped around Zhou Jin'an's neck, lips and teeth entangled, light and shadow dramatic.

He was beneath her, she above.

Rising and sinking.

She was like a white deer galloping across the grassland, passionate, unrestrained, tireless.

Like a flame, burning not just to burn, but to burn out.

Late at night, all was silent.

Qiao En lay in Zhou Jin'an's arms, drained of strength.

The things she wanted to do had been done; the words she wished to say, however, were still unspoken.

She clung to his chest, greedily listening to the resounding heartbeat.

Fingers swept over every inch of his cheek.

After a long time, Qiao En finally mustered the courage.

"Mr. Zhou, let's break up."