Chapter 7: Indulgence

In the end, Wen Xi brought him home.

She sat on the sofa, her gaze fixed on the busy figure through the half-ajar kitchen door. Her eyes were dark, and her expression wasn’t particularly pleasant.

Cheng Si possessed a typical Alpha physique: broad shoulders, well-proportioned muscles, and a tall, slender frame. The only thing that might set him apart from most Alphas was his waist—it was narrow. When cinched by that gaudy apron, his lean, supple waistline was revealed in all its glory.

Wen Xi looked away, feeling a long-lost urge to smoke.

She had been caught smoking by Xu Linshen before, and he had forced her to quit. He even had her room searched periodically for any trace of a relapse. To avoid unnecessary trouble, she had always kept her desires under tight control.

But now, the moment she allowed Cheng Si to cross her threshold, that control felt like it was on the verge of collapsing.

Aside from her days off, Auntie Chen came by almost every day, so the fridge was stocked with fresh ingredients—plenty for Cheng Si to work with.

Wen Xi liked her shrimp peeled for her. Cheng Si selected several plump prawns and deftly removed their shells. After marinating the meat with scallion-garlic oil, rose salt, and pepper, he seared both the shells and the meat in hot olive oil until golden brown, then tucked the meat back into the shells for presentation.

On the stove, a pot of water was boiling. He tossed in a handful of pasta, cooked it to al dente, and shocked it in ice water. While doing this, he whipped up a cheese sauce. Finally, he heated the sauce with butter over low heat, added milk and the pasta, and tossed it all together before plating.

A delicate plate of Creamy Cheesy Shrimp Pasta was set before Wen Xi. She noticed he had even bothered with the presentation. The aroma was mouth-watering; she shamefully licked her lips.

“Try it. See if the taste has changed,” Cheng Si said, watching her expectantly as he pulled off the apron.

Wen Xi twirled a forkful of pasta, chewed, and tasted a familiar flavor.

When she was growing up and hitting growth spurts, she often woke up hungry in the middle of the night. Cheng Si’s mother would get up and make this pasta for her—simple and quick. Sometimes Cheng Si would join her. In the moments when his mother was in the kitchen, he would lean in with bright eyes, lick the cheese sauce from the corner of her mouth, and share a brief kiss with her, like a puppy nuzzling its master.

With so many ingredients in the fridge, Wen Xi found it hard not to suspect Cheng Si’s intentions in choosing this specific dish.

“You’ve captured the essence,” Wen Xi said, curling her lips and not holding back her praise.

Only then did Cheng Si breathe a sigh of relief. Remembering something, he washed a box of strawberries, removed the stems, and sliced the bright red berries. He arranged them in a heart shape, accented with blueberries, and placed the plate gently by Wen Xi’s hand. The movements were so practiced it seemed as if he had rehearsed them a thousand times.

Wen Xi watched his hand—large palm, long fingers, protruding wrist bone. His skin wasn’t pale, but the back of his hand was thin, with veins visible between his knuckles. His nails were trimmed close to the quick, lacking any aesthetic appeal, yet they possessed a quality that could trigger a certain desire to dominate.

Wen Xi: “…”

“What’s wrong?” Cheng Si asked nervously. “Do you not like strawberries anymore?”

Wen Xi picked up a strawberry and ate it, then took another bite of pasta, her tone stiff: “I do.”

“That’s good,” Cheng Si said. “I was worried your tastes had changed.”

Hearing this, Wen Xi’s expression soured even further.

As someone who realized she was being played precisely because her tastes hadn’t changed, she ate elegantly while thinking angrily: He’s doing it on purpose. He’s definitely doing it on purpose!

Outside, thunder rumbled, drawing closer. Dark clouds hung low, and the sky grew dim—the precursor to a heavy downpour. Listening to the sharp whistle of the wind, Wen Xi had to admit she had missed the best opportunity to kick this man out of her apartment.

Everything about Cheng Si was broadcasting a message to her—

So what if he was about to differentiate into an Alpha? To her, he still possessed an irresistible sexual attraction.

Consequently, Wen Xi, who usually weighed pros and cons with clinical precision, eventually reached out toward him with dark, desire-filled eyes: “Give me a cigarette.”

Cheng Si blinked: “My brand… isn’t very good.”

“I know,” Wen Xi repeated tonelessly. “I want to smoke.”

Cheng Si could never bring himself to refuse her. He pulled out the pack, tapped one out, and handed it to her before reaching into his pocket for a lighter.

Wen Xi stood up with the plate of strawberries and sank into the sofa, biting the cigarette filter. The air conditioning was humming; the Doberman, tired from its walk, was sleeping peacefully at her feet.

Cheng Si crouched by her side, cupping his hands to shield the flame from the cold draft of the AC, protecting the flickering spark until the tip glowed red.

Wen Xi took a deep drag, the exhaled smoke instantly blurring her features. A rush of spicy heat surged from between her teeth into her throat. Her tongue felt slightly numb, bitter yet ending with a hint of sweetness. She indulged in the scent of the cheap tobacco as it spread around her—just as a second later, she indulged him when he sat down beside her.

Cheng Si sat next to her, leaning in slightly to light his own cigarette from the glowing ember of hers.

They smoked in silence. Wen Xi could feel his gaze fixed on her face, hotter than the midsummer sun. She struggled one last time but found it futile; when she turned her head, she collided with a look that was filled entirely with her.

After finishing the cigarette, Wen Xi spoke slowly: “Have you eaten?”

Cheng Si wasn’t good at lying, so he answered honestly: “No.”

“Are you hungry?” Wen Xi asked.

Cheng Si shook his head immediately. He was terrified Wen Xi would use his hunger as an excuse to send him home. He didn’t want to leave until the summer storm subsided.

Wen Xi let out an ambiguous laugh. She picked up a strawberry, bit halfway into it, and before he could react, she reached out to cup the back of his neck. She pressed the strawberry into his mouth, kissing him until the fruit turned soft and pulpy between their lips.

Breathing slightly hard, she pulled back a fraction and asked again: “Are you hungry?”

“…”

Cheng Si’s eyes widened, and he forgot to breathe. This time, in a state of utter daze, he nodded submissively.

Wen Xi’s gaze traveled over his stunned face inch by inch. She bit into another strawberry and covered his mouth again, punishingly nipping at his thin, blade-like lips—right on the wound he already had. Then, as he gasped in pain, she pried him open with ease. Her tongue slid into his warm mouth, forcing him to swallow the strawberry, the smoke, and the scent of her pheromones that had been stifled by suppressants.

The air grew damp with the scent of rain.

Cheng Si’s heart hammered against his ribs; his Adam’s apple bobbed incessantly. His rigid back was pressed into the soft sofa as she kissed him.

Wen Xi pressed her knee against his powerful legs. She didn’t pull away when she changed positions; instead, she pulled the back of his neck toward her, tangling with him even more tightly.

Cheng Si was nearly suffocated by the kiss. His hands grasped at the air instinctively, but without her permission, he didn’t dare touch her. He could only grip the edge of the sofa, his arms half-circling her waist to protect her from falling, letting her act wantonly upon him.

Wen Xi’s eyes sparkled with excitement. She pressed closer to him. After two years, she had finally found a way to relieve her suppressed tension, even at the cost of peeling back her disguise and showing him her predatory side.

She had intended to let him go. He was the one who walked right into it, wasn’t he?

Just as Wen Xi was losing herself in the moment, Cheng Si exhaled a long breath, his voice raspy beyond recognition. He parted his lips in confusion: “What is…?”

“Hmm?” Wen Xi looked up, a soft, satisfied hum in her throat.

Cheng Si shifted his lower back uncomfortably. Through the fabric of their clothes, the spot where they were pressed together felt so hot it sent goosebumps across his skin. He looked at Wen Xi, frowning slightly: “Your jewelry or your belt… it’s poking me.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds.

Wen Xi followed his gaze downward, and her expression shifted. She was wearing casual pants with a drawstring—no belt. And she didn’t have a habit of keeping things in her pockets.

So, what it was… was self-explanatory.

But she couldn’t stand up in front of Cheng Si now. Her casual pants were loose; a certain sudden protrusion would be glaringly obvious if she moved.

Wen Xi gritted her teeth, wanting to curse for the first time in her life. Why hadn’t she realized before how troublesome it was to pretend to be an Omega in front of Cheng Si?

More importantly… Pei Huanzhou was away on a business trip. This time, there was no one who could brave the storm to deliver an Alpha sedative to her.

It seemed that by indulging herself, she had accidentally created a situation she couldn’t easily close.