Chapter 51 Baby "You're wet."

"Is it enough?"

Of course not.

Zhao Jichuan’s Adam’s apple moved as he quietly lifted his eyes to look at her, his gaze calm and steady. The two were just inches apart, their breaths mingling so faintly it was almost imperceptible.

Han Rao blinked at him, then deliberately raised her hand to touch her lips, as if still feeling the warmth he left behind.

She suddenly smiled, her fingertips tracing circles along his neck, back and forth.

“Mr. Zhao, does your silence mean it’s enough?”

Silence was consent.

Han Rao loosened her grip on his neck, preparing to get off him.

Zhao Jichuan lightly touched the spot where her lips had just brushed with the tip of his tongue, then suddenly raised his hand to encircle her waist, pulling her back in.

Every time this happened, Han Rao marveled at the disparity in strength between men and women. He only needed to exert a little force, gripping her waist and pressing down, and she felt nailed to him, unable to move an inch.

Han Rao flashed a triumphant smile.

She was the triumphant little fox; from the moment he forbade her to leave, she knew he had forgiven her.

But since he cared about his pride, she played along. After all, they hadn’t had a proper conversation in a long time, and she actually missed him a bit.

Han Rao raised an eyebrow with a look that said, "I get it,"

then immediately pressed a light, fluttering kiss on his lips.

“How about this?” she asked.

Zhao Jichuan still remained silent.

Han Rao smiled gently, cupped his face with both hands, and lightly stroked his stubbled chin with her fingertips before kissing him without hesitation.

This time, it was no longer a mere peck.

She extended her tongue, pressing it against the corner of his lips. The man felt the anger he had been holding in for days vanish in an instant; his heart melted completely, as soft and smooth as her moist tongue.

Zhao Jichuan tightened his grip, finally releasing the last barrier and opening his mouth.

The next second, Han Rao slid the tip of her tongue inside.

The man took the lead, wrapping one arm around her back, pressing her against his body. Their chests were tightly pressed together, their heartbeats resonating in unison.

Suddenly, Han Rao lost all strength, feeling her mouth filled with the scent of alcohol—it was his gift to her.

She thought, he must have drunk quite a bit today, though she didn’t know what kind of alcohol it was; there was a fruity aroma, quite sweet.

She greedily sought more, hooking onto his tongue, going deeper, even imagining kissing him as deeply as he usually kissed her, fiercely and madly sweeping through every inch of his mouth.

But Han Rao was ultimately not Zhao Jichuan; her ruthlessness and madness were somewhat inferior to his by a margin.

Because when she truly kissed that deeply, she found that not only was she physically exhausted, but her lung capacity was poor. Kissing too hastily, too fiercely, she only felt dizzy and short of breath.

Zhao Jichuan seemed to notice her embarrassment and slightly loosened his grip, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

Han Rao felt as if she had been submerged underwater for too long and suddenly saw the daylight.

Her chest trembled slightly, her uneven breath landing on his forehead, yet she still teased him, "Mr. Zhao, is that enough now?"

Zhao Jichuan's eyes grew increasingly intense

Deep down, he wasn't sure if it was because he had been drinking today, but his desire and possessiveness for her had almost reached their peak.

He only gave her a few seconds to rest; as soon as she finished speaking, her chin was grabbed again, and he kissed her once more.

"Open your eyes and look at me!"

He didn't forget to order her even in the midst of their kiss.

Han Rao trembled as she opened her eyes, only to see a pair of eyes burning with desire.

She reached down to pull at his clothes, but he stopped her.

Although she didn't know what he was up to, the look in his eyes betrayed his intentions. So Han Rao lowered her gaze and reached out to hook her fingers on the hem of her clothes.

Just as the black sweater was lifted, the kiss abruptly came to an end.

Han Rao pressed her toes against the sofa, her calves tense, feeling somewhat puzzled.

This damn man has been getting worse, stranger, and more skilled at manipulating her lately.

He left her hanging, caught between up and down, while he looked at her with a clear and calm expression.

"Not going to do it?" she asked matter-of-factly.

Zhao Jichuan lifted her from his arms and placed her on the sofa.

Han Rao half-kneeling there, her ears flushed, a layer of passion still lingering on her face. She looked at him, only to see him pull over a chair, placing it in front of her, sitting face to face with her.

Because the chair itself was tall, and he was tall too, she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

Zhao Jichuan grabbed her hand, "Let's talk."

Han Rao knew this meant settling old scores, and she couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy, though she couldn't quite say what exactly made her so.

Han Rao could only look at him, waiting for him to speak.

Zhao Jichuan looked at her foolish expression, seeming a bit helpless, and finally showed a smile. He stroked her hair, took her other hand in his, and said, "Relax."

I was originally quite relaxed, but as soon as I heard him say that, Han Rao couldn't relax anymore.

She straightened her back, her posture looking somewhat stiff.

"Um, Zhao Jichuan, I'm really sorry."

This time, she apologized with utmost sincerity, then earnestly opened up to him about her inner feelings, "My parents, grandmother, and even Han Ting, actually don't know about our relationship. I've always wanted to keep it that way because I'm afraid they would think I…"

She hesitated for two seconds, and those harsh, filthy words didn’t come out again; instead, she said, "You’ll think I’m hopeless."

"I was so nervous. Ever since that day you had dinner with Han Ting, I've been anxious. So when you appeared in the hospital room, I really felt overwhelmed. I didn't know how to solve this problem, and I was afraid they would find out…"

Han Rao's voice grew softer and softer, her head drooping lower and lower.

Actually, she said similar words that day when she was going crazy in bed, but last time it was a bloody battle, a hysterical argument.

And today, in this calm yet somewhat ambiguous atmosphere, Han Rao surprisingly felt increasingly embarrassed.

Her eyelashes fluttered slightly as she thought to herself, this lover of hers was terribly unqualified; no one else would probably resort to such indirect insults.

If it were someone else, they would have been kicked out long ago.

She glanced at Zhao Jichuan again, looking into his eyes, his eyebrows, and the corners of his lips.

Then silently lowered his head again.

To be fair, Han Rao didn't actually want to end her relationship with Zhao Jichuan. First, because her career was on the rise, and she needed him. Second, because she was genuinely reluctant to let him go; she liked him—whether it was his gentleness or his ruthlessness, she liked it all, because everything perfectly matched her preferences.

But the fact was exactly as he said: their relationship was in his hands. Life or death, he had the final say.

So, Han Rao could only lift her eyes to look at him, waiting for his response like a prisoner awaiting judgment.

Zhao Jichuan saw her trembling like that. He sighed helplessly and called her "Raorao."

"Mm."

"I'm not only angry that you wrongly accused me for no reason, but also angry that you belittled yourself by defining our relationship so lightly."

He leaned in closer and asked her, "Can't you tell that I care about you a lot?"

That day in bed, because she said harsh words, he lost his temper and, in hurting the enemy a thousand, harmed himself eight hundred, responding with many insults aimed at her and their relationship.

He regretted it deeply.

Later, upon reflection, she realized that the source of all her insecurities was him. It was he who constantly reminded her to blame and be sensible, he who deliberately warned her against having unrealistic ideas, he who rejected her reckless declarations of love, and he who continuously suppressed her in this relationship, causing her to embed the notion of being kept deep in her bones, slipping out without thought.

Is she at fault?

He was always the one at fault.

Zhao Ji felt like everything was spiraling out of control, yet he found himself strangely captivated by this sense of chaos, infatuated with the woman before him, and even began to yearn for a normal romantic relationship.

The man only felt a dry mouth and a parched tongue, his entire bloodstream boiling. He looked at her, and she seemed stumped by the question he had just asked, standing there silently, lips pressed together, saying nothing.

Zhao Jichuan lowered his voice and continued to ask, "Raorao, do you really not feel that I care about you deeply?"

Han Rao nodded sluggishly, then shook her head.

She could actually feel his change—

At the beginning of their relationship, his manipulative nature was too obvious, and he was overly dominant, decisive and unyielding, not allowing her any resistance. If he wanted to do something, she had to obediently spread her legs; if he wanted to kiss her, she had to actively open her mouth to meet him. When he rudely insisted on going to her house, even if she was unwilling, she had to pretend to be very welcoming and happy…

But gradually, she began to change—somewhere along the way, she became spoiled, domineering, and lawless. Not only did she dare to scold him, but she also dared to hit him, scratch him, bite him, kick him, and slap him.

And he quietly endured it, not holding her accountable in the slightest, even showing a hint of pleasure, teasingly asking if she was born in the Year of the Cat, since she was becoming more and more capable

The past began to replay in her mind like a film reel.

Han Rao was stunned.

Zhao Jichuan looked at her foolish expression, sighed in relief, unbuttoned another button, took her hand again, and spoke to her earnestly: "Raorao, a person's mindset and thoughts can change. I admit, at first I was very harsh with you, only seeing you as a companion in bed, never considering things from your perspective, not caring about your feelings, and even behaving in ways that were inhumane, arrogant, and hurt your pride. I sincerely apologize to you."

Han Rao's lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but he stopped her, "Rao Rao, listen to me first."

He took a breath, "But times have changed. Even though I have been reluctant to admit it, the fact is, Raorao, I really like you. Since the last time you said you liked me, I knew I liked you a lot. I want to treat you well, maybe not well enough, and perhaps you still haven't felt it…"

He thought about these words while smoking as he waited for him downstairs at Han Rao's house that night.

The more I thought about it, the more I felt like I was less than human.

The slap mark on his face hadn’t faded that day; he stood in front of the mirror, silently cursing himself in his heart, feeling he deserved it.

Then, a thought surged into my mind.

He wanted to treat her well, genuinely from the heart, to keep her by his side for a long, long time, truly respecting her, cherishing her, and loving her as a lover.

"Raorao, are you willing to forgive me?" he asked.

Han Rao felt her heart skip a beat; she looked at him in disbelief, never expecting him to say such things.

This was not his style, but it also indirectly reflected his change, his willingness to change for her.

Han Rao blinked, the light above her head making her feel dizzy. She looked at his face and felt the intense, persistent yearning for love from her adolescence surge strongly in her heart once again.

She said, "It's okay, whether it was before or now, I have never been angry with you."

She knew she had no right to be angry. Selling her body to get the resources she wanted, he had already given her more than enough.

Since Han Rao got together with him, she kept telling herself that she couldn't have it both ways. To put it bluntly, a person can't be a prostitute and still want to set up a moral facade.

She used to do this quite well.

But gradually, the man in front of her became gentler and kinder, her nerves and senses numbed in a honey pot, slowly losing herself and beginning to grow greedy.

Hearing her words, Zhao Jichuan's heart sank once again.

This girl is sometimes truly foolish; he’s said it so clearly, yet she still doesn’t dare to think of the correct answer.

Seeing her like this, the man felt nothing but heartache, a sharp, stabbing pain. She was belittling herself again; within her own theoretical framework, he and she were still in the "dominant and submissive"

relationship.

So Zhao Jichuan had no choice but to hold her hand tightly, even bending down to squat in front of her, looking up at her.

The light above was blocked by her, casting his face in shadow, yet every subtle expression was still fully captured by her eyes.

"Raorao, what I mean is, our relationship isn't based on transactions. I appear before your family as your boyfriend, do you understand?"

"That day, I asked you what our relationship was, and I was expecting the answer you gave to be—boyfriend and girlfriend."

Han Rao was completely stunned; she had never thought about it, or more accurately, she hadn’t dared to think about it.

Her heart tightened again, and she fell into deep unease once more. Logically, hearing those words should have made her happy—after all, this was a promotion from friends with benefits to something official, something to celebrate. But for some reason, Han Rao felt a knot in her heart.

Later, she thought that perhaps some sudden, nonsensical abnormal reaction was just her body activating a defense mechanism, protecting her.

But she didn’t realize it.

Han Rao licked her lips, still silent.

She had never been this dull and helpless before, she…

She didn’t know how to respond to him, how to deal with him.

She was very afraid that one moment he would be smiling and nodding, and the next he would scold her for being delusional.

Han Rao lowered her eyes, ignoring him.

Zhao Jichuan watched her silence, feeling even more heartbroken and gradually growing restless.

In fact, by saying what he did today, he left himself no way out. If she said she didn’t like him, or didn’t want to be his girlfriend, or was still determined to end their relationship, there was nothing he could do.

Forcefully holding her back, forcing her? He didn’t know.

Zhao Jichuan lifted her chin again, imitating her, and lightly brushed a kiss on her lips.

Then a second time, a third time…

Every time he kissed her, he closed his eyes, looking extremely reverent. But every time, he never deepened the kiss; he just kissed her once and then let go, as if to soothe her.

Zhao Jichuan scratched her nose, squatted down beside her again, and took her hand.

"So, Rao Rao, would you be willing to have a different kind of relationship with me?"

"What kind of relationship?"

She had already guessed, but still couldn't help asking.

He smiled, a particularly beautiful smile, warm and gentle, unlike the usual intimidation and coercion he showed.

"Are you willing to start a romantic relationship with me?" he said.

Han Rao felt as if her heart had stopped beating; she was momentarily deaf, her mind a tangled mess.

Not worth it, Su Zhiyu's words began to echo in her mind.

"I think this little Zhao is pretty good."

“The more he values me, this old lady, the more he cares about me, this old lady, the more it means he truly cares…”

“Now that you have a boyfriend who understands your every mood, Grandma is really happy…”

Han Rao suddenly felt a sting in her nose.

Looking back, she realized that all the courage she had mustered in her life, all her desperate bets, had been poured into this very moment.

She was a gambler possessed by obsession, a gambler who preferred to endure hardship before sweetness.

Han Rao's throat felt a bit dry. She opened her arms and said to him, "Zhao Jichuan, hold me."

Zhao Jichuan stood up, holding her tightly in his arms, gently stroking her hair.

He was very uneasy, anxious, and yet eagerly awaiting her answer.

The man only felt the woman in his arms hook her arms around his neck, tilt her head up to kiss his ear, and bite his earlobe as she said, "I am willing."

She said, "I am willing."

Zhao Jichuan finally showed a long-lost smile, burying his face in her shoulder. He said, "Baby, thank you."

Han Rao cupped his face, fiery and passionate, biting his lips.

She was like a little beast that had caught its prey, a little beast with no experience, without any regard for technique, throwing her whole self onto him.

Zhao Jichuan supported her buttocks with one hand and held her waist with the other, tightly embracing her in a cradle-like manner.

His hands, both used to hold her, lost control and could only let her cup his face and kiss him.

Probably because she was too eager, her soft lips accidentally bumped against his hard teeth, and she frowned, letting out a light "hiss."

Zhao Jichuan just looked at her with a muffled laugh and lightly patted her on the butt, "What’s the rush? I’m right here, and no one’s competing with you."

Han Rao's ears flushed red in an instant. It was strange how a change in status could bring about a shift in one's mindset.

At this very moment, Han Rao truly resembled a girl deeply in love, crumbling completely at the slightest tease.

Zhao Jichuan saw her ears turn bright red, so he deliberately bit her earlobe, even deliberately stuck out his tongue and licked her ear canal.

Han Rao's back stiffened for a moment. She didn't understand why she was so sensitive—he had only touched her cochlea, yet she trembled lightly in his arms as if her whole body had been electrified.

By her ear was the sound of a man's breath, her eardrum still tinged with a dampness, like the gentle drizzle of early spring rain, nourishing all living things and stirring her desire.

Zhao Jichuan seemed to glimpse her inner thoughts, withdrew a hand from the bottom of her sweater, and in a few swift moves, unclasped her bra.

Suddenly freed from restraint, Han Rao only felt emptiness, filled with a sense of relaxation.

The next second, she was filled again, because the man lowered his head, burying it in her chest, deeply inhaling the scent on her body—the scent unique to his girlfriend. He could clearly smell the lingering fragrance of the body wash she had used after her shower that afternoon, a faint orange scent.

Zhao Jichuan liked this position, buried in her embrace, feeling affectionate and intimate, allowing him to indulge and do as he pleased.

Perhaps it was because he had finally become her legitimate boyfriend; the man held her, feeling nothing but tenderness and contentment.

Through a thick layer of fabric, Zhao Jichuan slowly parted his lips, pressing them against her, calling her: "Raorao."

Han Rao tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her head in the hollow of his shoulder, her heart melting completely.

She wasn't sure if she was just being too sensitive, but the delicate sensation intertwined with the dim lighting made her feel dizzy and lightheaded.

"Zhao Jichuan."

Han Rao hunched her back and shrank backward, "Carry me back to the bedroom."

The man paused for a moment, then softly responded with a "Hmm."

Han Rao looked down at him from above, sliding her fingertips into his hair, lightly biting her lip, arching her neck and tilting her head back, her beautiful neck forming a perfect curve.

She looked at the crystal chandelier in the living room and thought to herself, such a normal romantic relationship is truly wonderful, allowing one to freely express their most genuine feelings.

Pain, pleasure, sadness, happiness—all can be expressed directly, without concealment or deliberate performance.

Zhao Jichuan noticed her wandering thoughts and gently bit her, punishing her for not paying attention.

Han Rao lowered her head and their eyes met.

Before she could speak, she furrowed her brows. She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but she felt as if the black sweater had been stained with glistening dewdrops, the color deepening under the light. Like tear after tear, they shimmered in harmony with the tassels gently swaying at the hem of the sweater.

Han Rao's ears flushed red once again, and she awkwardly shook her calf.

A wave of shyness surged in her heart, the kind of shyness a young girl feels when cherished by her boyfriend.

Zhao Jichuan seemed to keenly sense this; he smiled, carried her upstairs, and gently whispered by her ear, "Raorao, baby, my girlfriend."

He knew her too well, understood best what she liked to hear.

When Han Rao heard the words "girlfriend,"

she paused for a moment, then held him even tighter.

Although she knew he said it deliberately, intentionally reminding her, it truly made her happy.

As a result, Han Rao was happy for less than three seconds before hearing the man vaguely and nastily add, "You reacted."