Qin Zezhou saw only shyness in her flustered expression, a captivating bashfulness.

“What nonsense did I speak?” he asked deliberately.

“Just… like that,” Jiang Yi mumbled, her eyes fixed on the screen, but acutely aware of Zhong Cheng’s gaze burning into her, making her feel like she was sitting on pins and needles.

“You didn’t like it?” Qin Zezhou’s voice was laced with amusement. “Liar. You clearly loved it. Every time I call you ‘wife,’ you get so wet, your body so soft and pliant, your legs lazily wrapped around my neck as you whisper ‘husband’ back to me. Have you forgotten?”

Jiang Yi’s face flushed crimson, acutely aware of the third person present. She covered the phone screen as if that would somehow block the sound. “Stop it!”

She glanced at Zhong Cheng. The young man’s eyes were dark, his expression stormy.

“I…I…I…” she stammered, desperate to explain, but at a loss for words.

Qin Zezhou’s voice, smooth and unhurried, drifted from the phone. “Shy now? You’re shy about telling the truth, but you weren’t shy when you were so wet. Well, you were shy then too. Your face was flushed, you kept burying yourself against me, clutching my shirt so tightly you wrinkled it.”

“I told you to stop!” Jiang Yi hissed into the phone.

Even her angry outburst sounded soft, like a kitten’s hiss. Qin Zezhou chuckled. “Alright, then beg me, and I’ll stop.”

“Please,” Jiang Yi instantly pleaded.

“No sincerity. Come on, sweetheart, take your hand away and look at me when you say it.”

Jiang Yi hesitated, glancing at Zhong Cheng before slowly removing her hand from the phone.

Both their faces appeared on the screen.

Looking directly at him, Jiang Yi repeated, “Please.”

A delicate blush colored her cheeks as she bit her lip, the picture of shy embarrassment.

Qin Zezhou’s heart ached with a mixture of fondness and a desire to tease her further.

“Beg who?” he asked.

“Mr. Qin,” Jiang Yi replied.

“Tsk. Call me ‘husband’ and I’ll stop with the embarrassing talk.”

Jiang Yi stared at him in disbelief, her eyes full of reproach.

Her glare sent a shiver down Qin Zezhou’s spine. “What? You don’t want to? You used to call me that with such enthusiasm. When I pushed my c0ck between your legs, you moaned it over and over, ‘Husband…’”

“Husband!” Jiang Yi blurted out, desperate to stop him from uttering anything more shameful.

Qin Zezhou laughed. “Yes, husband’s here, my sweet little wife.”

The words were out before Jiang Yi could fully process what she’d done.

The temperature around her seemed to plummet. She knew Zhong Cheng was radiating coldness again.

Desperate to escape the awkward atmosphere, she said quickly, “I…I have to go.”

“What’s the rush?” Qin Zezhou asked.

Jiang Yi’s eyes fell on the test papers on the table. Inspiration struck. “I have to study.”

Qin Zezhou frowned, a wave of irritation washing over him. He wanted to yell, Forget studying! He wanted to monopolize her time, tease her, embrace her, seduce her into doing indecent things with him whenever he pleased. He had more than enough money to take care of her, to fulfill her every desire, so why bother with studying and exams?

But he knew she wouldn’t like that. He’d learned his lesson when he’d once clung to her so tightly she’d fallen behind on her studies and stayed up until two in the morning to catch up. The next day, she’d been listless and withdrawn, and her coolness toward him had terrified him. That’s how the 9:30 curfew had come about.

Now, he longed to hear her voice, but the fear of her resentment if she didn’t finish her work, and the subsequent effort it would take to coax her back into good humor, held him back.

“It’s not 9:30 yet,” he pointed out.

Jiang Yi turned her head away. “But…I have a lot of homework tonight.”

Her fluttering eyelashes betrayed her lie.

“Liar,” Qin Zezhou scoffed. “Eager to do your homework? Or eager to get back to some other guy?”