Chapter 67: Midnight Mishaps and Tender Care

Night deep, bodies pressed, silence heavy.

Her warm softness covered her, Jiang Yule trembling.

Like on a swaying boat, yet Su Yubai did nothing.

Only hands on waist, grazing, kneading, light then heavy.

Feeling flammable, needing her kiss to douse.

But her lips didn’t comply—tongue tracing where hands lingered.

A rarely touched spot, untouched directly, overwhelming. Body shaking, itching, burning.

“Sister.”

Breath unsteady, voice quivering.

Air thick with suggestive sounds, breaths.

Her deep, rapid breathing below, reaching to touch, hands pinned.

“Sensitive, Good Girl.”

Her cool, husky voice—her favorite.

Words blushing, body hotter, mouth too.

Itch spreading, upper body tingling under thin fabric.

Different itch, no time to think—storm hitting.

Throat moving, lips sealed tight.

Nothing extreme, yet eyes wet.

Unknown sensation sweeping, scratching her palm.

Hands trapped, “Good.”

Darkness hid all, only wind-like sounds.

Breeze brushing ear, tickling.

Before pointing, Su Yubai found the gift.

In dim night, gift unclear.

Feeling deeply, sensing something extraordinary.

Itchy, wanting to scratch.

Hands unmoving, restrained tightly.

Struggling, failing, cooing, “Sis~ter~”

Mist clouding, her lips at gift’s edge, “What do you want, Good Girl?”

Voice unusual, suggestive.

Wanting, unsure how to ask.

Like drowning, throat moving, “Sister… want a kiss…”

Her laugh, breathy, “Sure… anything you want…”

Releasing hands, touching gift, seeking wrapping’s tie.

Fingers searching, finding none.

Reaching back, still no clasp.

Breath uncontrolled, throat humming, “Turn on light… okay?”

“Yup.” Voice off-key.

Shifting, propping beside, flicking lamp.

Light on.

Eyes dropping, seeing flushed eye tips, hazy gaze, watery eyes, parted lips breathing.

Her misty apricot eyes gazing tenderly.

Stunned.

No movement, hooking finger, “Sis~ter~”

Words stuck, throat blocked.

Understanding, pinning hand, eyes lowering.

Seeing gift, trembling fingers pausing.

Throat clogged, swallowing, “Where’d you buy it?”

Voice hoarse, shame hitting, eyes dodging.

“N-nearby… adult store.” Voice shaky.

Gift—a jelly, coconut inside.

Staring, swallowing hard.

Coveting embodied.

Control collapsing, tongue grazing thin jelly layer.

Clouds enveloping, floating, sinking.

Breath chaotic, clutching shoulder.

“Sister, so itchy…” Stating, sounding like cooing.

Deep glance, lowering.

Too good, seeking another.

Scene too shy, feeling…

“Sis~ter~”

Releasing, her watery eyes nodding faintly.

“Unwrap it… you’ll like it more.”

Catalyst, staring, wrapping neck, grazing.

Silent invite.

Trembling, finding clasp below, then others.

“…Don’t do this again…”

Unfastening, seeing red rash dots.

Exposed, no action.

Clutching shoulder, “Sis~ter~”

Voice sticky, unaware.

Coughing, breathing, rational, “Allergic?”

Stunned, looking, gasping.

Rash matching… noticeable pink.

Cheeks burning, weight gone, seeing her smooth back.

Stunned, “Sister, what’re you…”

Dressing, glancing, tears near, cheeks red.

“Yule.”

Meeting eyes, “Getting medicine.”

Embarrassment spreading, burying face in pillow.

Too shameful…

Her steps, door shutting.

Looking, catching wrist, wanting to hide.

Her voice through door, “No blanket, might worsen.”

Suppressing shame, “Okay.”

Wanting to die.

Meant to seduce, nearly succeeded, ruined by herself.

Well done, Yule!

Rolling, screaming, “Agh!”

Waiting usually endless, now wanting seconds stretched.

Not ready, yet itch demanded her return.

Wanting to scratch.

Wanting… her to scratch.

Pounding head—what was she thinking?!

Breathing, calming, lying flat, waiting.

Twenty minutes, water in bathroom.

Door opening, warm breeze.

Covering face.

Seeing hands, amused, “Now you’re shy?”

Too much, whining, “Sister.”

Not lowering hands.

Rustling, cool hand touching.

Itchy, twisting.

“Don’t move.” Hand on waist, “Applying cream.”

Lowering hands, watching.

Cotton swab with cream, easing itch.

But her hand grazed elsewhere, circling core, light then heavy.

Itch returning.

Watching rise, calling, “Sis~ter~”

Serious, “Hm?”

“…What’re you doing?”

“Applying cream.”

Noticing, pinky tapping.

Trembling.

“So sensitive, Good Girl.”

Eyes wetting, “Bad Sister.”

“Bad Sister wouldn’t help.”

Serious face, serious words.

Looking away, letting her tease with cream.

“Done.”

Her gaze on last covered spot, “Allergic here?”

Embarrassed, “No…”

“Oh.” Rising, leaving.

“Sister, I’m thirsty.”

“Okay.” No glance.

Gone, looking down—mess, shameful.

Unbearable.

Water again, returning with glass, glancing intentionally.

Avoiding eyes, gulping half.

“Done?” Soft voice.

Nodding, “Yup, goodnight.”

“Now? I haven’t drunk.”