The Strategy of Washing Clean a Slag Shou

3.3

Zhao Feng sat down on the sofa in a lordly manner and nodded his head. "Yes."

Su Yang continued, "This, this is the last bowl, right?"

Zhao Feng said nothing. His hands moved to the expensive leather belt around his waist and began slowly unbuckling it. Su Yang broke into terrified shivers and snatched up the bowl, pouring the soup into his mouth. As he drank, he surreptitiously eyed Zhou Feng with reddened rabbit eyes, afraid that this beast Zhou would not keep his word and launch a surprise attack

Luckily for him, there is still honour amongst thieves. Although his hand was still clasping the leather belt, Zhou Feng made no other moves.

After finishing the soup, Su Yang pushed the delicate porcelain bowl as far away as he could, an expression of suffering on his face.

Zhao Feng got up and stood by the bedside, his burning gaze fixed on the youth’s red lips which were moist from the soup. Su Yang looked at him blankly for a moment, before quickly pulling his gaze away in fright—–

Below Zhao Feng’s leather belt was an obvious bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, which was rapidly growing bigger! What was more, his belt was still unbuckled. His entire posture suggested at something indecent, which made Su Yang feel extremely threatened.

Su Yang wrapped the blanket around himself and scooted back, but his retreat was restricted by the size of the bed. His attempt at escaping made Zhao Feng disgruntled.

The man stepped forward in two large strides and caught hold of Su Yang’s delicate ankles. Without expending much effort, he dragged the youth over to his side.

Su Yang began recklessly kicking out, but his body was firmly pressed down. In the blink of an eye, he was hauled up and pressed against Zhao Feng’s chest.

Su Yang trembled pitifully. "Feng gē, I-I suddenly feel like drinking soup again……"

Zhao Feng laughed softly, a hint of tenderness unexpectedly surfacing in his dark eyes. "You want to drink now? Too bad, it’s too late."

Su Yang’s eyes were round and red like a rabbit’s as he stared in horror. His expression screamed panic.

Zhao Feng gripped one of the youth’s hands against his chest, while the other circled around Su Yang’s slender wrist, and slowly, leisurely, moved it downwards. "Don’t be afraid. Can you feel it?"

Su Yang closed his eyes tightly, determined not to look. He could feel something hard and hot pressing against his palm, and felt like crying.

"Fe-feel what QAQ"

A low, husky laugh came from Zhao Feng, carrying the strong magnetism and allure of a mature man. "How much gē likes you."

Su Yang had no answer to that, and began struggling wildly as if his life depended on it. Like he was facing an unruly child throwing a tantrum, Zhao Feng calmly allowed the youth to flail about until he was limp from exhaustion, before caging him in his arms again. He pressed a heavy kiss on the flushed cheeks.

The skin was soft and warm, fair and smooth, and smelled wonderful.

In contrast, Su Yang was not enjoying the experience one bit. Zhao Feng truly deserved to be called a bandit. Even the act of kissing carried the overbearing air of dominance. This isn’t kissing, he was practically gnawing his face off! Su Yang really wanted to chop a stamp on his face!

After kissing (gnawing), Zhao Feng felt pleased and contented. He caressed Su Yang’s soft hair whorl and said, "Ge needs to go back to the office first, I’ll come see you again at dinner time. You can look for Gao Min if you’re bored and ask her to take you around for a walk."