The car lights cut through the bustling downtown streets, then passed into the uneven roads of the lower district. At a street corner, Zuo Shihuan spotted a familiar nutrient drink vending machine, the same rusty, graffiti-stained casing, unchanged since before.
He found himself oddly nostalgic for the taste of those cheap synthetic nutrient drinks.
Turning to glance at Gu Heng’s focused profile behind the wheel, Zuo Shihuan touched his empty pockets, but couldn’t bring himself to ask for a few coins.
The car drove past the vending machine.
Only then did he reluctantly draw back his gaze, his eyes full of regret and faint longing.
Curiosity soon took its place, where exactly was Gu Heng taking him?
But he didn’t ask aloud. He only stared out the car window as the scenery flashed by faster and faster, confusion and curiosity deepening in his eyes.
They left the lower district.
The streets disappeared, the noisy crowds faded away, and bit by bit the city lights in the distance went dark.
Gu Heng seemed to be driving toward the deserted outskirts.
The smooth road gave way to cracked concrete; the tires crunched over gravel; heavy rain pounded on the car windows.
Zuo Shihuan turned his head and saw rows of weeds taller than a man, brushing past the glass with a swishing sound. The rusted streetlights flickered weakly before being swallowed up by the misty rain.
His confusion began to shift into another kind of suspicion.
Could it be… that the “safe house” Gu Heng mentioned was a real one?
Perhaps something like a secret base of the Federation Bureau of Confidential Investigation, only such a place would be this remote and deserted.
Otherwise, how could he explain why Gu Heng was bringing him somewhere so far out, where even passing another car was rare and this wasn’t anywhere near Gu Heng’s usual work sites?
This place was so barren and forsaken that even back when Zuo Shihuan had been a broke Beta struggling to make ends meet, he wouldn’t have chosen to live here.
The more he thought about it, the more he felt his guess must be right.
He unconsciously straightened his posture, sitting upright and looking solemn, his hands resting neatly on his knees but his light brown eyes were gleaming with nervous excitement. His heart thumped fast, his perfectly pressed suit pants now wrinkled from his restless grip.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Suddenly—
The car came to a stop.
“We’re here,” Gu Heng said.
Zuo Shihuan instinctively turned his head to look outside. Through the pouring rain, a massive dark shape loomed ahead. His eyes widened in surprise, quickly followed by a flicker of anticipation.
As the car rolled closer, a towering, eerie building came into view. The pale lightning flashed across rows of deep, pitch-black windows and a set of tightly shut bronze doors as if warning outsiders to stay away.
It really did feel like a scene straight out of a movie.
Especially one of those late-night horror films he used to sneak-watch as a kid, door locked and lights off.
His throat tightened; his heart raced; his overactive imagination began to run wild again, but he soon shook his head, telling himself he was overthinking it.
Yet when Gu Heng stepped out, opened an umbrella, and came around to open his door, Zuo Shihuan couldn’t help but ask, “Is it really okay for me to just go in like this?”
Seeing the rain slanting toward the car interior and Zuo Shihuan still sitting there hesitating, Gu Heng frowned slightly, then drew him under the umbrella and said calmly, “Why wouldn’t it be? This is my place.”
Zuo Shihuan glanced again at the strange-looking building.
He had never quite grasped the reality of what Gu Heng actually did, even after hearing him admit he was a Federation Bureau agent, there had always been a faint sense of disbelief.
But now… it seemed Gu Heng had been telling the truth after all.
But… he really couldn’t imagine Gu Heng actually obeying anyone’s orders, calmly, obediently completing assigned missions?
Even though he trusted Gu Heng’s abilities, with his arrogant and indifferent temperament, the man could never open his mouth without offending someone, or be well on his way to offending them.
It just felt like whoever could be Gu Heng’s superior must be an extraordinary person indeed.
(Meanwhile, all of Gu Heng’s subordinates across the Empire were in tears: “No one can actually be His Highness’s superior, but just being one of his ordinary subordinates is already hard enough!”)
Zuo Shihuan suddenly stopped walking. With a furrowed brow, he asked with some hesitation and worry, “Am I really allowed to go in? I won’t interfere with your work, will I? Especially since you mentioned this is a ‘safe house’, do I need some kind of pass or clearance to enter?”
Gu Heng paused for a moment, his eyes flickering as he quickly considered how to conceal the truth from the perceptive Zuo Shihuan. Then he grinned and said, “There is one, the pass you need is me.”
Zuo Shihuan pursed his lips in mild dissatisfaction, but Gu Heng had already pulled him toward the front door.
Gu Heng, smiling helplessly at the rare childish pout on Zuo Shihuan’s face, handed him a key from his pocket. “Here, your pass.”
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes lit up. He accepted the key, feeling oddly content, even if that was what the “pass” meant, it was fine.
He turned the key.
The soft click of the lock sounded utterly ordinary, yet it made his heart skip a beat for no reason.
The door slowly opened.
Zuo Shihuan lifted his head, the nervous anticipation in his chest being overtaken by curiosity, he wanted to know what kind of place Gu Heng lived in.
But just as he was about to step across the threshold—
A pair of large hands suddenly covered his eyes. His vision went dark behind the warm shade of a palm, and his soaring anticipation fell into emptiness, followed by that familiar, aggravating chuckle in his ear.
“Quit it!”
Zuo Shihuan angrily pushed Gu Heng’s hands away, glaring at the man’s infuriatingly playful grin. “Don’t you dare touch or tease me without my permission!”
“Yes, yes,” Gu Heng said with a sheepish smile, his eyes curving, but under Zuo Shihuan’s repeated sharp glares, he could only raise his hands in surrender and step aside.
Distracted by Gu Heng’s antics, Zuo Shihuan didn’t notice the faint red light that had flashed behind the door the instant he opened it, a light that had scanned and locked onto his face.
Only when Gu Heng’s cold, commanding gaze swept across it did that light fade, and the house resumed its harmless appearance, all hidden weapons, energy sources, and automated defense systems quietly shutting down.
Gu Heng hadn’t lied to Zuo Shihuan.
And Zuo Shihuan’s guess had been right.
This was indeed a safe house, one Gu Heng had personally modified and built himself, the longest one he had ever lived in within the Federation. A secluded private domain, isolated from the world, where danger lurked in every corner. Anyone without clearance who accidentally triggered something would meet an ugly end.
The only safe way to enter was with Gu Heng’s authorization.
Even among his most trusted subordinates in the Empire, only a handful had ever been granted access to this place.
Gu Heng usually met with his subordinates at other safe houses or convenient locations, those situated in city centers, transportation hubs, or gray zones with heavy human traffic, where the bustle of crowds helped conceal their movements and objectives.
But as the Imperial Crown Prince, even if Gu Heng himself didn’t care for comfort, his subordinates would still arrange for him luxurious accommodations.
They would never choose a place so remote and desolate as this.
Originally, his official residence had been a refined mid-tier home, quiet amidst the bustle, blending perfectly into the local Federation surroundings. Yet inside, it had been renovated to rival a five-star hotel; perhaps not on par with the Imperial Palace, but not far from it either.
However, with Gu Heng’s hyper-acute senses, even the slightest rustle or human movement couldn’t escape his notice. And his so-called “surpassing genetic limit” was less a gift and more a lifelong torture.
For an ordinary Alpha, his hearing and smell were already sharp. But Gu Heng’s five senses, hearing, smell, sight, touch, and taste, were ten, even a hundred times stronger. To put it bluntly, his nose was sharper than a hound’s, and his ears could pick up sounds more chaotic and distant than a dolphin’s sonar.
Especially during childhood, when his body was developing and his “gift” was awakening.
He could smell flowers ten kilometers away, hear the faintest scuttle of a spider entering the room.
Even the palace’s thick soundproof walls and heavy doors couldn’t block the endless footsteps, chatter, and bustle of servants. At night, overlapping breaths and whispers resounded like swarms of wasps beating their wings right beside his ears, deafening, inescapable.
All of this information forced its way into his brain, flooding his overdeveloped cortex until the delicate nerves could no longer bear it, veins bulging at his temples.
Even sleeping on the Empire’s softest, most luxurious bed, young Gu Heng could never rest. His wide, bloodshot eyes stared into the dark as waves of pain tore through his mind, like his skull was about to explode.
All because he was his father’s hope.
Born under the weight of the world’s expectations, he had been forced to become a machine, running at maximum power, its engine overheating, sparking, yet forbidden to stop, always optimized, always pushed further.
When that torturous period finally passed, Gu Heng forced himself to learn how to shut off parts of his own senses, gaining control over his body, only then could he finally sleep peacefully.
But when he grew up, Gu Heng came to understand—
He wasn’t “extraordinary.”
He was abnormal.
A defective creation, the twisted product of his father’s and society’s blind obsession with the so-called genetic limits of humanity.
And what was most ironic, during that time, as a child, he had even felt guilty for his “weak, oversensitive body” slowing down his father’s training plans.
So once he finally recovered, he immediately pushed himself harder than ever, training relentlessly, desperate to achieve his father’s ambitions, desperate to make his father proud.
Unfortunately and perhaps fortunately as well, not long after that, he experienced a kidnapping.
He personally heard the news that his imperial father had abandoned him. Having narrowly escaped death, Gu Heng no longer held the slightest expectation or illusion of paternal affection.
The Gu Heng of today would never again wrong himself for others.
Even during his time performing special missions for the Federation, when endurance was sometimes necessary, he would never endure for long, he would simply relocate to rest somewhere else.
After moving several times, Gu Heng finally settled in a place where, within several kilometers, not a single soul lived, so remote that even birds wouldn’t bother to fly over. Around the house, not even mosquitoes, insects, or mice could be found; he had long since eradicated them all, leaving behind utter silence.
As time passed, this safehouse became marked as Gu Heng’s private territory like the lair of a dragon guarding its hoard, forbidding anyone to approach.
Even Ji Shenwen, his subordinate who had followed him for years, was not allowed to enter casually.
Yet after leaving the engagement banquet with Zuo Shihuan, the first place that came to Gu Heng’s mind to take him was here.
Though there were several other safehouses much closer, Gu Heng insisted on driving the long distance out to this secluded house on the outskirts.
It was as if a possessive dragon couldn’t wait to brand its chosen treasure with its exclusive mark, to keep Zuo Shihuan caged in his safest, most comfortable den, tail wrapped tightly around his waist, until the other was completely covered in his scent, only then would he feel satisfied.
Of course, such thoughts were not something Gu Heng would ever tell Zuo Shihuan.
“Shihuan,” Gu Heng said calmly, “I plan to add you to the highest access level of this safehouse. I’ll give you a spare key later. You’ll be able to enter anytime you want: no barriers, no alarms triggered.”
He kept his tone casual, but he was secretly watching every flicker of Zuo Shihuan’s expression, impatient to make it happen already.
“…Alright, anything’s fine.”
Zuo Shihuan nodded slowly, echoing Gu Heng’s words as his curious eyes roamed around, taking in Gu Heng’s home to see if it matched what he had imagined.
In truth, it didn’t.
It was much simpler and quieter.
The interior decor followed the common Federation aesthetic, nothing unusual at all.
Rows of cool-toned incandescent lights illuminated a pristine white floor that gleamed all the way from the corridor to the living room. The built-in wall cabinets and locked doors and windows stood spotless; the light-colored curtains by the window didn’t stir in the slightest. The silver-gray furniture gleamed coldly. There were no plants, no pets.
Everything was so immaculately clean and still that even the sound of a speck of dust falling could be heard except there wasn’t any dust at all.
No dust. No wind.
Before they entered, the outside world had been raging with storm winds and rain, loud and chaotic. But once they stepped inside Gu Heng’s home, it was as though someone had pressed the mute button.
Silence.
Such complete, perfect silence.
Ordinarily, a clean and quiet home was a good thing but to Zuo Shihuan, it felt oddly eerie, as though he hadn’t stepped into Gu Heng’s residence at all, but into an abandoned house that had been empty for years.
Still spotless, but unnervingly still, cold and utterly devoid of human presence.
Maybe this was just Gu Heng’s preferred style. Some people did like being in completely quiet spaces, even designing their homes for soundproofing.
Zuo Shihuan wasn’t quite used to the sudden silence. Apart from Gu Heng’s occasional voice, there were no other sounds, only the faint ringing in his ears and the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat.
Even when answering Gu Heng, the silence made him slow to respond, distracted, taking several seconds to process that Gu Heng was talking about house permissions.
“Shihuan, let me show you around. The house has three levels: the main living room, kitchen, master bedroom, and guest room are on—”
“Alright, I understand.” Zuo Shihuan nodded again.
“I usually stay on the third floor. If you prefer higher floors, I can arrange cleaning right away. But the master bedroom’s on the third floor. If you’d like, would you stay there with me?”
When Gu Heng spoke the last sentence, his throat tightened, his dark pupils trembling slightly as he glanced toward Zuo Shihuan.
“You can arrange it however you like. I don’t mind,” Zuo Shihuan replied evenly.
Though he had received verbal consent to share the room, Gu Heng still felt a strange sense of disappointment, an undercurrent of unwillingness that Zuo Shihuan didn’t seem to look forward to it the way he did.
“Then I’ll update your permissions now.”
“Alright. Do I need to do anything?”
“Just input your iris pattern and fingerprint. For the highest clearance, there are a few special functions that require biological activation but that’s not urgent. I’ll just collect a strand of your hair sometime and input your genetic data.”
“No need to wait. Here, I’ll pull one out for you now.”
Zuo Shihuan did it immediately, without a hint of hesitation.
In the Federation, it was common for households to install smart-home systems that could automatically adjust temperature, lighting, and appliances, recognize visitors, and include basic anti-theft and fire-alarm functions.
If the system detected an unregistered visitor like a thief or intruder, it would alert the homeowner and automatically notify the Federation police.
So for a first-time guest, it was natural for Gu Heng to register his information in the system.
Although systems requiring genetic data were rare and typically top-tier models, collecting someone’s genetic information was still highly sensitive.
Federation law strictly prohibited unofficial organizations, institutions, and corporations from gathering citizens’ genetic data.
Yet out of trust in Gu Heng, Zuo Shihuan didn’t hesitate at all.
And when he learned that Gu Heng was giving him the highest level of access, Zuo Shihuan couldn’t help but feel a small surge of happiness, it meant Gu Heng valued and trusted him deeply.
However, Zuo Shihuan didn’t know any of this.
This safehouse was far more complex than a simple access authorization.
If one day Zuo Shihuan were in danger and fled into this place, it would automatically activate a defense system, identifying him and distinguishing his enemies, protecting his safety, and deploying attack weapons to capture the intruders. It could even erase all traces of those people’s existence.
Gu Heng glanced sideways at the oblivious and confused Zuo Shihuan. After a series of operations, he successfully entered Zuo Shihuan’s name into the safehouse’s highest-level authorization.
Then, without pause, he modified the settings so that from now on, only he and Zuo Shihuan could enter.
Looking at the two names displayed side by side in the “Primary Owner Authorization” column, the names Gu Heng and Zuo Shihuan appeared together. From that moment, the rights within the house would be shared equally between the two, as if inseparable like an exclusive love nest belonging only to them.
The safehouse, once something Gu Heng could take or leave, now became imbued in his eyes with an unparalleled sense of preciousness and happiness. Out of love for its new meaning, he found himself fond even of the walls themselves.
For the first time, Gu Heng felt his heart completely full, overflowing with a sense of richness and contentment. His deep, reserved black eyes curved in satisfaction, and the smile tugging at his lips grew even wider.
Beside him, Zuo Shihuan suddenly noticed that Gu Heng had gone quiet for quite a while.
Was modifying the access screen really that complicated?
Curious about what Gu Heng was up to, he turned and saw him standing still, smiling at the screen, truly smiling, his joy plain and unrestrained.
Those deep, noble black eyes now sparkled like polished gems, lit with an innocent and brilliant glow. His lips, curved high in delight, looked as if he were proudly showing off the happiness of owning the entire world.
He stood there staring at the screen, unable to stop smiling.
Zuo Shihuan hesitated to speak, baffled by Gu Heng’s uncharacteristic joy yet couldn’t help smiling himself, caught up in the inexplicable warmth of it.
He secretly snapped a picture of Gu Heng’s silly, happy fac and didn’t tell him.
After slowly taking a few more shots from different angles, he saved and backed up every single embarrassing photo as a “blackmail collection,” his own smile becoming more and more genuine as he did.
Finally, Gu Heng finished what he was doing.
He turned to Zuo Shihuan, eyes shining brightly, and said with excitement, “I’ve changed the authorization. Shihuan, from now on you’re one of the owners of this place. You can use any room you want. If there’s anything you’re not satisfied with, or anything you need, just tell me, I’ll go buy it right away.”
“Shihuan, is there anything you want?”
“Ah? I’m fine with anything.” Caught off guard by the question, Zuo Shihuan didn’t really have any particular requests, he only hastened to tuck his communicator back into his pocket.
“Shihuan, really no requests? You didn’t bring any spare clothes. How about I go buy some clothes and daily necessities for you later? If you have preferred brands, tell me, I’ll get the same ones. You can decorate or add whatever you want here.”
After speaking, Gu Heng still looked dissatisfied. Frowning slightly, he said seriously, “If you want, I can go to your place right now and bring over everything you’re used to using. No one at your house will notice.”
Zuo Shihuan’s mouth fell open in astonishment. He didn’t know how to handle Gu Heng’s sudden burst of enthusiasm nor his leaps of logic that normal people couldn’t follow.
But the earnestness in Gu Heng’s expression told him he truly meant it, that wherever he had to go, whatever he had to do, he would do it without hesitation if it was for Zuo Shihuan.
Zuo Shihuan took a deep breath and hurriedly stopped him, protesting, “No, don’t! There’s no need for all that trouble. I’m fine, really. Just prepare some basics, it’s fine.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
“You really have no requests?”
Gu Heng lowered his gaze, a trace of disappointment in his eyes, but then stubbornly looked back up at Zuo Shihuan. “No matter what you want, you can tell me directly. Even if you don’t like living here, we can move somewhere else, I have plenty of other properties across the Federation.”
Zuo Shihuan blinked, confused. “Why would I have an opinion about where you live? As long as you’re comfortable, that’s what matters. There’s no need to accommodate me in everything.”
He wasn’t the controlling type who had to dictate every detail of his boyfriend’s life. Just being allowed into the safehouse and even made a top-level user already made him deeply happy and content.
But Gu Heng didn’t see it that way.
To him, Zuo Shihuan’s calm politeness only meant he still wanted distance. The joy of being allowed to share a home vanished instantly, replaced by the bitterness of disappointment.
“You… don’t want to live with me?”
Gu Heng’s brows drew tight, anxiety clouding his deep eyes. They trembled faintly, as though they might shatter if Zuo Shihuan said no. He grasped Zuo Shihuan’s hand as if to draw strength from it, but soon his gaze dimmed again. His voice was restrained and quiet as he said,
“It’s all right if you don’t. I just thought… when you agreed to stay here, it meant you were agreeing to live together. I was really looking forward to that…”
“Live together?”
Zuo Shihuan blinked in surprise. “I thought it was just temporary, not actual cohabitation. I figured we’d still have our own places. And besides, with your line of work, wouldn’t living together interfere with it?”
Gu Heng quickly raised a hand to cover his forehead, hiding his disappointment. Forcing a small laugh, he said lightly, “So it really wasn’t… I guess I just expected too much. I was too impatient. Forget I said anything.”
That fragile, self-deprecating expression made Zuo Shihuan’s heart tremble. How could anyone refuse such a pitiful, earnest Gu Heng?
Even if things felt a bit rushed, he found himself ready to make that decision.
“I didn’t say I disagreed.”
Zuo Shihuan smiled faintly, reaching up to touch Gu Heng’s cheek. With tender helplessness, he leaned in and kissed him softly.
“I’m looking forward to living with you,” he whispered. “I agree to move in together.”
Gu Heng’s eyes lit up immediately, but he remained silent, his long eyelashes trembling slightly.
Zuo Shihuan quickly kissed him a few more times and whispered some sweet nothings. Gu Heng’s complexion immediately improved and became radiant.
Zuo Shihuan, who noticed this scene, felt both annoyed and amused. This pitiful jerk was both troublesome and somewhat easy to coax.
But once that b*stard found his emboldened side, he started pushing his luck again.
“You really don’t feel pressured?”
“I really won’t force you.”
“Is it Zuo Shihuan’s own wish, and not because of me? And am I the only one who wants to live together?”
“Of course it’s my own idea, and I’m really looking forward to living with you.” Zuo Shihuan said impatiently over and over again, looking at the increasingly bright and expectant eyes of the b*stard in front of him, a helpless yet amused smile appeared on his lips.
What can I do? This jerk is his own doing, so he can only continue to spoil him.
“Did you come up with this idea on your own initiative?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“How much do you want to live with me?” Gu Heng’s bright eyes darted around as he grinned mischievously and asked.
“Yes, yes… um, I… I just want to live with you, okay?” Zuo Shihuan was taken aback by the question, his cheeks flushed slightly, and he glanced at Gu Heng, who was grinning smugly, with annoyance.
“So just how much do you want to live with me, darling?”
Gu Heng bent down, his godlike face suddenly incredibly close to Zuo Shihuan’s, leaving Zuo Shihuan with no way to avoid it, his eyes filled with that chillingly wicked grin.
Yet, he keeps falling for his tricks.
Zuo Shihuan gritted his teeth to suppress the sudden surge of his heartbeat caused by that “darling” address. His cheeks flushed, his ears burned, and his mind was in a chaotic mess. He was so flustered that he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
Zuo Shihuan didn’t even need to look in the mirror to know how embarrassing he looked.
“Darling, how much do you want to live with me?”
“Is it that you really, really, really want to live with me right away?”
The hateful, teasing words kept echoing in Zuo Shihuan’s ears.
Zuo Shihuan gritted his teeth and remained silent, his ears burning red. He closed his eyes, not daring to look directly at that wicked and foul-breaking face, afraid that this b*stard would find his weakness and tease him again and again.
“Why aren’t you saying anything, darling?”
A hot, ambiguous breath sprayed onto Zuo Shihuan’s ear, tickling him. Even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t stop his heart from tickling as well.
The lips were covered with a layer of scorching heat.
He got kissed by someone.
The incessant whispers of “darling” in his ear made Zuo Shihuan blush and unable to open his eyes. His cheeks turned bright red, and he couldn’t help but try to block the annoying kiss with his hand, but his palm still fell into the burning kiss.
He kept kissing him little by little, moving from his hands and collarbone to his neck, and finally to his blushing ears. The burning kisses made him tremble uncontrollably.
Even with his eyes closed, Zuo Shihuan felt he was about to collapse.
But that b*stard wouldn’t let him go. Seemingly sensing his unexpected stubbornness, he changed his strategy.
“Darling, why won’t you open your eyes and look at me? Is it because…”
Suddenly, a warm breath came close to his ear, accompanied by a playful laugh, and a deep, magnetic, and alluring voice rang out from thin lips. “Are you thinking of me when you close your eyes?”
Unable to hold back for a moment, Zuo Shihuan opened his eyes wide and met Gu Heng’s bright black eyes, which were full of a playful smile. He seemed to realize that Gu Heng had finally opened his eyes.
He kissed Zuo Shihuan’s eye with a mischievous smile.
“You’re not talking because you’re thinking of me—”
“No!” Zuo Shihuan said through gritted teeth, his face flushed with embarrassment.
“I don’t believe you. You were just thinking about me, right? Darling, you’re just too shy, but I love that about you.”
“No, I said no, so don’t kiss me!”
Zuo Shihuan, looking embarrassed and angry, tried to push him away, but Gu Heng lifted him up by the buttocks with one hand. He struggled to kick forward several times but was blocked. Finally, he was forced to reach out and hold onto Gu Heng’s shoulder to maintain his balance at a high place.
Gu Heng, however, continued to fool around and laugh, his eyes narrowed and sparkling with laughter. He lifted Zuo Shihuan up by the bottom and held him high, shouting, “I don’t believe it! You must be thinking of me. Look at you now, you don’t want to leave me at all—”
Zuo Shihuan gritted his teeth, held onto Gu Heng’s shoulder and watched him smile smugly. In the end, he couldn’t help but lower his head and bite Gu Heng’s lips hard to shut him up.
It just gradually changed its flavor…
The bitten lips loosened, turning into a light touch, and gradually into a kiss where lips and teeth met. Soft and tender, the kisses deepened and intensified, one grabbing the hair, the other gripping the waist, gradually evolving into a frantic struggle for each other’s hot breaths.
Like a fire that, once ignited, spread uncontrollably across the mountains and fields.
In the end, it completely spiraled out of control.
Gu Heng lifted Zuo Shihuan by the buttocks with one hand, quickly walked to the sofa and put him down. He supported himself on the edge of the coffee table in the living room with one hand, and with his fingers intertwined, he imprisoned Zuo Shihuan under him and continued to kiss him passionately and anxiously.
It spread downwards.
Zuo Shihuan could not lift his neck, biting his lip and panting softly, enduring all the sensations Gu Heng gave him. The intense, fiery kisses on his body seemed to burn him to ashes, even burning away the oxygen in his chest.
The sharp canine teeth grazed the fragile skin exposed to the air, sending shivers down the spine.
Accompanied by a series of hot, hoarse gasps.
Then he migrated to the back of the neck.
Despite being glands that Alphas cannot mark, they were repeatedly bitten and licked, causing the delicate, slightly protruding glands to swell and turn red.
Zuo Shihuan was thoroughly tormented. He bit his wet lips, trying to suppress the horrifying struggle that came with the moment his sex gland was bitten, as if some ferocious beast was biting his vitals.
About to be swallowed whole.
There was no escape.
From the bitten gland at the back of his neck came waves of stinging numbness yet mingled within was a strange, unspeakable heat that coursed through his body. His breathing quickened uncontrollably, chest heaving as if he were about to suffocate.
But the teeth never truly broke through the gland.
The restless pheromones inside him had nowhere to go, building and building, he could only endure the torment as they refused to give him the release he craved.
He was being toyed with again and again, endlessly entangled.
“Mm… let me go…”
Zuo Shihuan could no longer hold on; his head bowed as a muffled sob escaped him. His eyes, red and glistening, shimmered with a languid, dangerous beauty. He reached out to push away Gu Heng, who wouldn’t stop, but the man caught both his hands in one swift motion and pinned them above him against the silver-gray couch.
The cold touch instantly chilled his skin.
Only then did Zuo Shihuan realize, not only was Gu Heng’s home cold, even the silver-gray couch beneath them was made of metal.
A shiver ran down his spine; the hard steel beneath scraped his back until it burned with heat and pain, while his captured wrists tingled and went numb from the strain.
“B*stard… let me go.”
“My… hands… they hurt, d*mn it…”
Receiving no answer, Zuo Shihuan’s eyes turned red with grievance. He clenched his teeth, refusing to speak further, but tears still fell one by one.
This time, Gu Heng noticed quickly.
The moist teardrops fell onto his face, startling him, snapping him out of the haze of frenzy and unbearable desire.
Whenever he kissed Zuo Shihuan’s alluring gland, Gu Heng would go mad with the urge to mark him completely, to fuse his pheromones with Zuo Shihuan’s blood and flesh, to make them one, inseparable.
Yet the more violently he wanted it, the more violently he forced himself to stop.
He couldn’t.
He mustn’t.
Not only because he had to keep his Alpha identity hidden within the Federation, his pheromones were too powerful. Once released, they would suppress every human or zerg of lower rank.
Even on the battlefield, he had to conceal his face, in case someone recognized him through his pheromones.
But the most important reason was that he couldn’t mark another Alpha. No matter how much he wanted to, he could not mark Zuo Shihuan.
His so-called restraint, however, was still a kind of madness. In the end, he’d only hurt the one he cared for most.
Gu Heng’s expression gradually cooled. He looked at the tear-streaked corner of Zuo Shihuan’s eye and reached out to wipe it away but the frightened Zuo Shihuan instinctively flinched back.
Gu Heng’s gaze dimmed. Retracting his hand, he pressed his lips together and said quietly, “I’m sorry. I lost control. If I ever lose it like that again, you can hit me, kick me, curse me, whatever you want.”
Zuo Shihuan lowered his gaze, hesitated a moment, then finally reached out and touched Gu Heng’s face, which was filled with remorse. Yet his heart didn’t feel any lighter because of the apology.
He had been scared, yes but he also hadn’t been entirely without pleasure. And Gu Heng’s apology was sincere.
After thinking it through, he pinched Gu Heng’s cheek.
It felt… nice.
But Zuo Shihuan didn’t want to simply forgive him like that. Nor did he want to resort to hitting or scolding him. At the very least, Gu Heng deserved a small lesson.
Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind. His lips curved into a slow smile.
“Do you want me to forgive you?”
“I do,” Gu Heng said firmly, lifting his head.
A glint of satisfaction flickered in Zuo Shihuan’s light brown eyes. His lips curled upward as he pointed toward the silver-gray metal couch, his tone carrying a quiet authority.
“Then lie down.”
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