Compared with Song Nanyin, Liu Zhaoran’s body temperature ran somewhat low. Not the kind of chill that froze on contact, but more like an autumn leaf brushing across skin, carrying the foretoken of coming autumn and a hint of coolness.

Her lips were the same. This was Song Nanyin’s first kiss with a woman, and her first French kiss. She had never gone this deep with anyone. With her slight obsession with cleanliness, she had always felt that French kissing was just swapping spit, no fun at all, and a bit unsanitary besides.

But Liu Zhaoran smelled so good. Her brain crashed, her body at the other woman’s mercy, and the only thought she had left was this one. Why did lips this fragrant, this good to kiss, have to sit on the face of a black-hearted lotus like Liu Zhaoran? How infuriating. If only she could bite them off like eating a jelly.

Song Nanyin thought fuzzily, her body passing from taut to relaxed in an instant. She could feel one of Liu Zhaoran’s hands braced against her shoulder, while the other slid down in the gaps between kisses, stroking her ribs and belly through the thin bath towel.

It was an extremely suggestive tease, a hint. Song Nanyin had forgotten where she had read such a line: people who desired each other could not control their hands while kissing. Hands were naturally nimble, so they always wanted to touch something.

Kissing consumed oxygen and reason. When feeling took the upper hand, control weakened. That was why touching during a kiss was the warning before lovemaking. But… what she and Liu Zhaoran were doing shouldn’t count as lovemaking, should it?

Even though they were kissing, bodies pressed together, she had no intention of making love with her. This was simply mutual bullying, the two of them getting even with each other.

“Y-you… stop groping me.” In the gap between breaths, Song Nanyin squirmed and whispered. Liu Zhaoran clearly hadn’t expected that. She didn’t take her hand back, instead watching Song Nanyin at her leisure, waiting for her to keep spinning nonsense.

“I mean, it’s not like we’re going to have sex, so what are you groping for?” Song Nanyin looked at Liu Zhaoran with an expression that said “something’s wrong with you,” wishing she could write the excuse “I’m a straight woman” all over her face. Liu Zhaoran thought for a moment, then smiled faintly.

“Sorry. You’re a straight woman, so my touching and kissing you must be very uncomfortable. I’ll be careful.” Liu Zhaoran’s smile was faint, but the mirth reached the depths of her eyes. Those peach-blossom eyes hid slyness, coquettish and alluring.

Song Nanyin’s lips parted. She actually wanted to say it wasn’t uncomfortable at all; the truth was it felt rather good. But no matter what, she refused to admit that kissing Liu Zhaoran felt good. Where would she put her face otherwise?

“Good that you know. I don’t like kissing, and your technique is terrible.” Desperate to salvage her pride, Song Nanyin said whatever came to mind. Liu Zhaoran arched an eyebrow and let out an upward-lilting “Oh.”

Her gaze settled on Song Nanyin’s lips, kissed red and swollen. Mm, they were pretty, and cute, fragrant and soft and lovely to kiss. They just weren’t very honest.

Liu Zhaoran actually quite liked that feeling just now, especially the sight of Song Nanyin’s pheromones surging and churning beyond control when she was teased.

Yes. As a high-rank Omega, Liu Zhaoran could easily sense the rise and fall of Song Nanyin’s thin, weak pheromones. She was the only one in the know, and the one in control of what was between them.

This wasn’t Liu Zhaoran’s first kiss with a woman, but this novel, thrilling sensation brought her joy. And it proved that she did feel an inexplicable sexual urge toward Song Nanyin’s body.

Just from that kiss, her scent gland opening had already come open, pheromones spilling out in such quantities they nearly slipped her control.

“Then I really do apologize. Once I’ve practiced and improved, I’ll come kiss Team Leader Song again.” Liu Zhaoran’s voice came from above, carrying a damp breath, like moss after rain, furry and wet to the touch.

Song Nanyin didn’t know what she looked like in the other woman’s eyes at this moment: lewd, or laughable? Or, since Liu Zhaoran’s starting point was bullying her, would she find her current state ugly? And what did “again” mean? Was she going to practice kissing with someone else, then come back to kiss her? Hmph, no way… While she was still in a daze, the loosely tied bathrobe was undone, and the little secret she had been hiding finally leaked out, thread by thread.

She had just showered and wasn’t wearing underwear. That was fine, right? It was like a thirty-year-old being slow at games, or a newborn always crying: perfectly natural, nothing to be ashamed of.

Song Nanyin waited for Liu Zhaoran’s ribbing, but the other woman said not a word. Her soft lips traveled downward, circled once around the collarbone, and arrived at her chest.

They were aroused there, swollen and full, the hard, plump nipples the best proof. They had become round and plump, full and heavy. Even the color of the mixed-blood little lion’s nipples was unusual, a pale orange that suited Song Nanyin’s cool white skin.

Liu Zhaoran hadn’t forgotten Song Nanyin’s words: touching the breasts was a signal for making love, and what they were doing was supposed to be a fair game of elementary school kids, you hit me once, I kick you once. So touching with her hands wasn’t allowed. She could only use the tip of her tongue.

Grinding and pressing like a chocolate melting in the mouth, or like ice cream melting under thirty-nine-degree sun, swallowed down in greedy urgency. In any case, only her mouth was used.

“Mm… mm…” A light gasp cut through the empty room. Song Nanyin couldn’t even imagine that this sound had come from her own mouth. But the fact was that Liu Zhaoran’s mouth was stuffed with her nipple, so of course she couldn’t be making such a wanton sound.

Song Nanyin thought blankly, her vision going blurry. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Why did it feel this good? Just having her chest licked, could it really feel this good?

If endurance had grades, her chest’s score wouldn’t even pass. And why wasn’t Liu Zhaoran teasing her about not wearing underwear? Was it because she, too, felt that saying it at a moment like this would be in poor taste?

So what atmosphere would saying it have spoiled, exactly? The kind suited to making love, or this ambiguous hothouse they were in now, suspended between one thing and another?

But no matter what, the arousal was real. Song Nanyin was no woman unversed in such matters. She had masturbated countless times. The hunger in her body climbed steadily, until it nearly drove her mad.

And the most obvious sign wasn’t the trickling stream of her vagina. It was that restless little part, already jutting up proudly, as if dying to shout at Liu Zhaoran: “Song Nanyin is very aroused. Song Nanyin has been kissed wet by you.”

Once again, Song Nanyin felt ashamed of her physical reactions. Only this time, unlike before, she couldn’t run away…

“How does Team Leader Song feel? I suddenly think this settling of accounts was quite a bargain. Team Leader Song’s lips are soft and sweet, and her breasts are big too. At least, of all the breasts I’ve touched, they’re the biggest.”

Liu Zhaoran, suddenly struck by high spirits, picked up her banter again. At her words, Song Nanyin’s brows drew slightly together.

She could concede all of that, but what was Liu Zhaoran saying? What did she mean, of all the breasts she’d touched? Besides hers, whose else had she touched? A straight woman, groping women’s chests left and right, was that proper?

“What nonsense are you talking? I don’t want to hear any of it.” Song Nanyin bit her lower lip, trying to reclaim some of her senses. She decided her dizziness must be the aftereffect of the wine and had nothing to do with Liu Zhaoran.

“I mean, Team Leader Song’s tongue was delicious, twining around mine so sweetly just now. And… your breast shape is beautiful. The color of your nipples is lovely.” Liu Zhaoran was certainly talkative now, even more tiresome than before.

“Can you stop saying things like that? Just shut up, okay?” Song Nanyin said crossly. She understood now: this Liu Zhaoran was a wolf draped in a goddess’s skin. Once in bed, all she did was spew dirty talk.

“But Team Leader Song never said I couldn’t talk, did she? Or would you rather my mouth be used for something more meaningful than talking? But licking gets tiring too. Can’t you even let me rest a little?”

Liu Zhaoran said this with a hint of grievance, as if Song Nanyin were a rich patroness keeping her, demanding song and revelry every night and allowing her no room to catch her breath.

At that, Song Nanyin was left speechless. She held her tongue for ages without a single word… and could only shut her eyes in a huff, refusing to pay Liu Zhaoran any mind.

Seeing her playing dead with her eyes closed, Liu Zhaoran smiled and went on with what she was doing. Anyway, in a little while, the little lion would be crying out again.

Liu Zhaoran slid lower, roaming from Song Nanyin’s chest like a fish at play, gliding down along the edge of her ribs.

Perhaps guessing her path, Song Nanyin tensed her belly nervously. The change was obvious, and of course it didn’t escape Liu Zhaoran’s eyes.

She descended gradually, kneeling between Song Nanyin’s legs, and saw the little part standing at attention. In fact, her leg had felt its presence a moment ago, only she hadn’t spared a thought to look.

Now she saw it: raised and rigid, its tip white flushed with pink, a little pale fluid seeping from the head. It looked somehow obscene and pitiable.

Liu Zhaoran smiled, very satisfied with Song Nanyin’s response. She hadn’t forgotten that she could only use the tip of her tongue, so she slid further down the belly, until only a hair’s breadth remained between her and the pubic bone.

Song Nanyin wasn’t the sort to have thick body hair, and the hair on her body matched her hair color, a pale gold with a hint of white. The unusual shade was beautiful. In short, it suited the little lion.

Following the pubic bone, Liu Zhaoran slid down to her damp private place. Owing to the changes in her anatomy, Song Nanyin’s outer labia were fuller than before, spread apart by the little part on either side yet still enclosing the whole cleft.

Liu Zhaoran didn’t touch that drenched flower heart, nor the scorching little part. As if playing on purpose, she licked the fleshy lips around them, kissing lightly, sucking, nipping.

“Stop… you… Liu Zhaoran, what… what are you doing… don’t.” Song Nanyin couldn’t bear it, nor could she open her eyes, not daring to look at the scene. She hadn’t expected Liu Zhaoran to go this far to “avenge” herself, and what was even more shameful was that her body’s response was far stronger than she had imagined.

She could feel her pussy clenching and growing wet, so much fluid seeping from its mouth that it soaked the cleft of her buttocks. The unfamiliar little part was swollen and stiff until it ached, aching until the small of her back went weak.

This was desire collapsing in on itself. Song Nanyin suffered, finding no way out.

“Team Leader Song, our agreement was for me to get justice. Within the time limit, as long as I use my mouth, I can lick anywhere I like, except this little part of yours. If you don’t agree, we can also sit down and have a proper talk about you raping me.”

Having right on her side, Liu Zhaoran gave no quarter, practically driving Song Nanyin insane. She suddenly regretted agreeing to this condition, feeling as if she had fallen into an even deeper pit. And the one who had pushed her in… was herself.

“But I… I… Liu Zhaoran, don’t you think it’s dirty?” Song Nanyin couldn’t understand why Liu Zhaoran, a straight woman, would want to lick her down there. Even for revenge, wasn’t the sacrifice too great? It was practically a case of wounding the enemy eight hundred while losing a thousand of her own.

“No, not at all. I don’t think Team Leader Song is dirty. On the contrary, every part of you is fragrant and clean. Ah, could it be that, like Team Leader Song, I’ve come to smell other people’s special fragrance too? Otherwise why would Team Leader Song smell so good to me?”

Liu Zhaoran said it laughing, every syllable seeming to carry a note of glee. Reminded by her, Song Nanyin realized: yes, the exhaust fan was on in the room. Why… was Liu Zhaoran’s scent still all around, and had this damned Black-Hearted Lotus turned even more fragrant?

“Since Team Leader Song has nothing to say, I’ll continue.” With that, Liu Zhaoran gave Song Nanyin no chance to react, lowered her head, and licked somewhere even more outrageous.

The entrance, slick and soft from the fluid pooled there, tasted like a crystal cake of the finest quality, and the flavor was rather good as well.

Liu Zhaoran’s actions snapped the last thread in Song Nanyin. Having her private place held in Liu Zhaoran’s mouth felt exquisite, and the labia being licked and toyed with felt just as good.

Just a few strokes, and she seemed… about to come.

When was her last orgasm? A few months ago, it must have been. She had touched herself with her hand, and at the time she couldn’t tell how the mood had struck; a few strokes on her clit and she had arrived.

It was probably because she had done nothing in months, and Liu Zhaoran’s tongue was so hot, every stroke finding sensitive spots she herself had never known.

So hot. So burning. So good… She wanted to reach it so badly.

Song Nanyin thought in a fog, her reason long since turned to ash. Just when she thought she was about to crest the peak, Liu Zhaoran’s movements stopped.

“Team Leader Song, we agreed to be fair, so I have to stop. What if I give Team Leader Song an orgasm and she gets angry with me again?”

Being dropped halfway was not a pleasant feeling; it was, to say the least, agonizing. Song Nanyin opened her eyes and stared at Liu Zhaoran in disbelief, her gaze damp. She truly hadn’t expected the woman to be this shameless. She felt wronged, yet didn’t know what to say.

Perhaps reading her distress and impatience, Liu Zhaoran smiled and stroked her face with her hand.

“Team Leader Song, between us we don’t need to keep accounts so strictly. As long as you say you want me to use my hand, or rather, that you want me to have you, to make you come, I’d be very glad to help.”

Liu Zhaoran’s voice was like a demon whispering, beguiling her to hand over her most precious thing in exchange for this orgasm.

Song Nanyin kept her eyes shut, hands clenched tight, legs strained. Watching the flushed little part between her legs and the engorged, blood-flushed labia, Liu Zhaoran smiled, finding it more interesting still.

She licked the shell of Song Nanyin’s ear, blowing her hot breath into it. Then she sank slowly once more to tease her pussy. It was wetter now, and softer. The moment her tongue probed there, it kept opening and closing, trying to draw her tongue inside.

Liu Zhaoran wouldn’t give it that. She kept licking all around, at all costs avoiding the one crucial spot. Like someone feeding a blaze with firewood and oil: not putting out the fire, but stoking it.

“Ah… no… Liu Zhaoran… I… ah…” Song Nanyin had nearly lost her mind. She twisted her hips, trying again and again to grind her pussy into Liu Zhaoran’s mouth, but every time, the other woman dodged nimbly away.

And then, the voice came again.

“Does Team Leader Song truly not want it? I can slide my fingers inside, just like when you touch yourself. It’ll feel wonderful, and that way the little part can come too.”

Liu Zhaoran’s voice seemed to come from very close by, and also like seductive music drifting in from afar. Tears gathered at the corners of Song Nanyin’s eyes. She panted helplessly, her pale feet straining tight.

She felt so awful. And so she yielded, and she begged.

“Give it to me… Liu Zhaoran, give it to me…”