ITF Chapter88

By the time Luo Congye saw Lin Zaichang and the others out, Bai Heting had already slept for another round in the bedroom. While he was still sleeping dazedly, he felt the bed sink, and the suppressor patch on the back of his neck was carefully peeled off.

His back sank into a warm and reassuring embrace. His consciousness was not yet fully awake, and his voice was lazy, “What took you so long?”

“What do you think?” Luo Congye hugged him from behind while pressing his lips against the swollen gland and kissing it with light pecks. “We had to discuss how to deliver the message for General Bai.”

The hand pressed against his chest fumbled to untie his belt before slipping inside against his skin.

Bai Heting let out a short, soft groan and curled his body forward.

“Watching the tigers fight from the safety of the mountain,” he panted slightly, his body in heat unable to withstand the stimulation. “Be careful not to get eaten yourself.”

Luo Congye’s movements paused, and he laughed softly. “You eavesdropped.”

Bai Heting said, “You all were very noisy.”

Luo Congye said, “You worry about me.”

Bai Heting retorted, “I worry that you’re too stupid.”

Luo Congye fell silent. He turned his head as his fingers reached further down—

Bai Heting suddenly shuddered, leaning back into his embrace.

Luo Congye whispered softly next to his ear, “Stubborn mouth.”

Then he let out a low sigh, “For the best things, I will only keep firmly in my own hands.”

Bai Heting furrowed his brows tightly. “Vulgarian.”

This was a fresh word to hear. Luo Congye smiled, his tone becoming a bit more serious, “Once your heat subsides, I’ll take you to see something good.”

Bai Heting panted softly against his chest, murmuring indistinctly, “What kind of thing?”

“Something thrilling,” Luo Congye said. “Something you will definitely like.”

Something was pressing against his back through the fabric of their clothes. Bai Heting could not spare the energy to scold him for his double-entendre dirty joke, only asking, “Do your allies know that you’re keeping the good stuff hidden away?”

“There is no ‘allies’ plural,” Luo Congye corrected him. “We only have one ally. The others are merely buyers who patronize our business.”

Bai Heting turned his head back in surprise, and Luo Congye lowered his head to kiss his cheek.

“Zhong Maoru knows everything about us inside out,” he explained. “He and Lin Zaichang are life-and-death friends. Besides, if he truly needs help, we won’t sit by and watch with folded arms.”

Having finished speaking, his patience was completely exhausted, and he yanked off Bai Heting’s trousers in one move.

Bai Heting hurriedly said, “I’m hungry.”

He subconsciously wanted to clamp his legs together, but his right leg was firmly pinned down by a sturdy thigh, rendering him completely powerless. Left with no choice, he reached back to push against Luo Congye’s waist, reiterating, “I’m hungry.”

His clothes were half-undone, and the exposed skin was covered in beautiful, lingering traces. Luo Congye swallowed hard.

“You really want to eat?” He confirmed.

Bai Heting nodded. “I haven’t eaten since last night.”

This was the truth. Luo Congye fell silent for a few seconds before compromising, “What do you want to eat?”

“Apple pie.” Bai Heting answered almost without thinking.

Luo Congye fell silent for another few seconds. “There’s no apple pie today.”

Bai Heting questioned him, “Why on earth not?”

Luo Congye’s silence lasted even longer. “Who eats that kind of cloyingly sweet stuff every single day?”

Bai Heting looked entirely serious. “I can eat it every day.”

There was a strange stubbornness in his tone. Luo Congye asked curiously, “What exactly is so good about apple pie anyway?”

Bai Heting stopped talking.

Only after a moment did he speak, “On a specific day every year, my mother would always give me this to eat.”

The word “every year” was actually inaccurate; the time he spent living with Luo Wanyin was far too brief, and he could only remember two or three years of it.

Luo Congye froze for a moment, then said softly, “That day must have been the day you were born.”

Bai Heting gave a flat “En.”

Luo Congye had lived in the General’s Mansion for many years yet had never seen Bai Heting celebrate his birthday, so he couldn’t help but ask, “When is it?”

Bai Heting lowered his eyes and answered in a low voice, “Early summer.”

Early summer—a vibrant season when flowers are fresh, leaves are lush, and vegetation flourishes.

Luo Congye lowered his head to kiss his bare right shoulder, thinking abstractedly: No wonder the General was born looking so beautiful.

Three years ago, he had also loved kissing this exact spot. Bai Heting’s breathing quickened, his distinct, long eyelashes trembling lightly. Luo Congye reached up to turn his face, moving inch by inch upward from his shoulder, kissing his neck, his chin, and finally catching those thin lips to kiss him lingeringly and tenderly.

His voice was thoroughly soaked in desire, sounding dry and raspy, “Was the apple pie from before… good?”

With his eyes closed, Bai Heting said, “It was just ordinary.”

The movements of the person behind him halted for a brief instant, before he suddenly gripped his waist and gave a fierce, punishing thrust.

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