However, even a fine flour bun can become a torturous weapon. Unfortunately, I realized this too late. By the time the sharp pain came, it was already too late to regret. I screamed and pushed him, my tears came out in pain. Yet he refused to retreat, covered in sweat, continuing forward, and didn’t forget to gasp and say something I still remember vividly.
“Actually, I’m in pain too. Just bear with it.”
I never believed this statement. If both parties are in pain, why continue this torture? It was obviously a deliberate lie he fabricated to cover up the fact that he was enjoying himself while I was in unbearable pain. The most despicable part was that after everything ended, he stared bitterly at the blood on the bed, with a pained expression, as if the blood had come from his own body.
Fortunately, after our wedding night, he never requested to have intercourse again and soon moved to live in his own study. I was relieved not to endure such torture anymore.
However, today, he was drunk and unexpectedly returned to the bedroom, wrapped his arm around my waist, and helped me onto the bed.
I was somewhat resistant, but I knew it wasn’t good to disappoint him and cool down our recently warmed marital relationship. So I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and obediently let him support himself on his arms above me, licking here and there like a kitten, occasionally gently biting.
Compared to our wedding night, he seemed more patient this time. But his hair brushing against my neck made me itchy, and I couldn’t help but laugh twice. When he was close, I could feel him lift his head, his warm lips falling near my ear, softly calling twice. “Little demon, little demon.”
I mumbled in response. He hugged my shoulders and murmured, “You are mine, my wife. No one can take you away.”
“No one will take me away,” I comforted him, my heart softening as I reached out to hug his waist. “Zhuo Yi, let’s have a child.”
His body seemed to stiffen, and he stopped moving. I opened my eyes and saw him supporting himself above me, his eyes incredibly bright.
“Why?”
Why? I want to know why too! Could I say that I, once again, impulsively just wanted to bear a child for him?
