Chapter 11

"A cursed being actually speaks of God, isn't that blasphemous?"
He shrugged indifferently, "So what if I do? Can He strike me dead with lightning right now?"
"You don't believe in the existence of God at all, do you?"
"You guessed it. What can't be seen or touched might as well not exist." His fingers glided across the table, capturing her tender fingertips with a meaningful gesture: "I only believe in what I can hold in my hands." His fingers wandered over her delicate hand, slipping off the silver bracelet through her sweater sleeve, and pulling her into his embrace.
It was about to begin.
She held her breath slightly, letting him manipulate her woodenly. His body was enveloped in post-shower warmth, yet his skin remained ice-cold, the standard vampire temperature.
He rested his chin on the top of her head, letting her clean scent fill his nostrils, his large hand covering her tight, flat stomach, climbing up along the buttons of her sweater, stopping at her trembling left breast, and asked in a low, soft voice, "By the way, I haven't asked for Miss Derlin's name?"
"Sara." She replied stiffly, knowing her rapid heartbeat must have been conveyed to his palm. She understood what would happen, but knowledge and actual experience were different after all. She didn't intend to feign understanding in front of this veteran, to avoid ridicule.
"Sara. What a cute name." She was so tense, as if his embrace would swallow her whole. The first time he embraced someone, they were also this nervous and flustered, at a loss.
He kissed her hair, following the same clockwise direction of her hair whorl to her forehead, unbuttoning her shirt from top to bottom, eagerly tearing the clothes down to her wrists, thus she was completely bare in front of him from the waist up.
She almost jumped in shock, disregarding the goosebumps all over her body caused by the cold air, immediately propping her right leg against the back of the chair. She must not let him discover the weapon she hid so closely!
"Cold? It will warm up soon." He mistook her stiffness for shyness, securing her wrists behind her, making her enticingly arch her head back, her fair skin adorned with two pale cherry blossoms, pure yet seductive, arching towards him.
She was slightly thin, but her skin was soft and tender, enough to drive a man mad, but not enough to awaken his dormant desire. He kissed her collarbone, gently exploring along her beautifully curved arc, and when he reached the peak, she let out a suppressed gasp, deciding to focus there and officially start the feast of the night, murmuring, "Sara, Sara..."
Alcohol catalyzed, his cool body pressed against her, his soft tone bewitching, drawing out a strange heat from deep within her, spreading to all her limbs, relaxing her tense body like a fully drawn bow. She didn't need to pretend to be intoxicated; she was already there, her lips slightly parted, almost letting out an unbearable moan, but she bit it back in time.
She reminded herself, pleasure was merely a physiological response, this was a transaction, not mutual affection, she must not forget her mission!
He enjoyed her enthusiastic response, thus more willing to use all his skills to please her. Amidst her chaotic breathing, he occasionally looked up to see her cheeks flushed red as if drunk, her beauty blooming unrestrainedly, momentarily distracting him.
Then he noticed her eyes wide and round, her lips bitten to a bright red, clearly resisting with all her might—her body couldn't resist him, but her will refused to yield.
More than her enticing beauty, it was her stubborn eyes that attracted him more.
"Don't hurt yourself." He coaxed softly, lightly pecking her lips, tempting her to give up resistance. She showed a slight opening, and he took the opportunity to dive deep, drinking her sweet fragrance. The more she wanted to stay calm, the wilder he became, determined to melt her frosty body into a warm pond.
"…Damn." Just as she was lost in confusion, he suddenly sighed.
She struggled to pull herself out of the dizzying passion, looking at him hazily. Somehow they were already on the bed, with him pressing her into the soft mattress, his arms propped beside her, looking down at her effortlessly, his blue eyes filled with apology, hesitating to speak.
His composure seemed to mock her, indulged in lust. She took a breath to calm down, but couldn't smooth her husky, enticing voice, "What's wrong?"
"I'm not responding." As always, he could make his partners burn with desire, yet he felt nothing, completely devoid of the legendary passion. He had mocked Nangong Jing for being a monk, but he was the real ascetic, devoid of desire.
Seeing her puzzled look, he joked about himself, "Is this the face you make when a man admits his impotence in front of you? It's quite hurtful."
She then realized why he suddenly stopped, but mistook his joke as directed at herself, her tone turning harsh, "Are you blaming my lack of charm?"
"No. I've said, vampires are all cold-blooded creatures, unfortunately, my vampire nature overwhelms my male instincts. The beauties that men would pounce on at sight are no different from furniture to me." After all, who could feel desire towards "food"?
He rolled over with her, letting her straddle him, spreading out lazily, "So, you'll have to do it yourself."
Do it herself?
She stared at his inviting half-bare chest, wondering how he, who initiated the idea of going to bed, was now asking her to take the initiative to arouse his "interest."
"Or, lend me your neck for a bite, maybe then I'll feel something?"
She glared at his mischievous face, angry enough to slap him—not yet, acting now would ruin everything, but… what should she do?
His smiling face seemed to mock her, she—biting her teeth, kissed his mocking lips heavily, clumsily kissing down his neck, simply replicating what he had done to her, that should be right, shouldn't it?
Her falling hair tickled his chest, causing a tingling sensation, but her efforts seemed more like torment to him, he moaned, "Gentler, we're making love, not fighting." He had noticed her lack of experience and didn't expect much from her skills, but it piqued his curiosity even more.
"Why agree to my request? Is Yuan Zhen worth such a sacrifice for you?"
"If you can't be humane, then why make such a request?" He was cold and clean, with a refreshing scent from the shower, not enough to make her disgusted. When she reached his chest, she paused, in the dim light, carefully identifying a small white scar near his heart.