Chapter 291 Compensation

The second watch of the night.

Before the eunuchs left, they refilled the lanterns under the eaves with oil, and the orange light shone through the paper windows, shrouding everything in the room in a warm, soft veil.

As Xiao Jue stood by the couch taking off his outer robe, Zhou Heng was leaning against the pillow watching him. He watched as Xiao Jue's slender fingers unbuttoned the collar one button at a time, and the black dragon robe slipped off his shoulders, revealing a section of collarbone that was gilded by the candlelight.

He has lost a lot of weight recently, and the lines of his waist are tighter than before, with his outline faintly visible through the thin nightgown.

Xiao Jue draped his outer robe over the hanger and glanced back at him. He walked towards Zhou Heng barefoot on the gold bricks, making almost no sound, only the rustling of his clothes against the floor was particularly clear in the quiet night.

Zhou Heng lowered his eyes, closed the book in his hand and placed it on the small table, then moved to the side of the couch.

Xiao Jue lay down beside him, his arm naturally reaching out to wrap around his waist, his palm pressing against the curve of his waist, his thumb slowly caressing the thin fabric.

The burning heat of that hand emanated through my nightgown.

They had hardly been this close in the past few months. Every time Xiao Jue came over, Zhou Heng was either still looking at the folding paper, or too tired to keep his eyes open, or his mind was full of unfinished business, so he really didn't have the mind to do anything.

Seeing that he was unwilling, Xiao Jue did not force him. He simply pulled him into his arms and held him close, resting his chin on the top of his head and wrapping his arms around his waist, like a silent dam, suppressing all the unspoken anxiety beneath the calm surface.

Sometimes Zhou Heng would wake up in the middle of the night and feel that hand still on his waist, the thumb unconsciously rubbing gently against his skin, even in his dreams he was restraining himself.

At this moment, Xiao Jue's lips landed behind his ear, slowly sliding from the earlobe to the side of his neck. He didn't use any force, just pressed against it, as if confirming something.

His breathing became heavy, hot and itchy against the skin, but he made no further move, just stayed close, like a wild beast that had been starving for a long time and didn't know how to bite, holding its prey in its arms, sniffing the familiar scent over and over again.

Zhou Heng felt a little breathless from being held so tightly by him. The warmth of that body penetrated through the two thin layers of clothing, burning from his back all the way to his heart.

Zhou Heng felt a sense of compensation in his heart, as he felt he owed him for those days.

Each time he pushed Xiao Jue away, the expression on that person's face never changed. He would just grunt, withdraw his hand, turn over, and stop talking.

But Zhou Heng knew how much he was suffering. Occasionally, when he turned over at night and bumped into him, his body was taut like a fully drawn bow, his muscles as hard as stone.

So let him do whatever he wants today.

Zhou Heng reached behind his back, his fingertips landing on Xiao Jue's waist, gently pressing against it through the thin nightgown. The muscles there instantly tensed up.

Zhou Heng felt the arms around his waist tighten even more.

The man buried his face in the crook of his neck, the tip of his nose touching the artery on the side of his neck, his lips pressed against his skin, as if sensing something, or as if confirming something.

After a long while, Xiao Jue finally spoke, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible: "Is it alright?"

Zhou Heng closed his eyes, grasped the hand that was covering his waist, his fingertips wedged into Xiao Jue's fingers, palm to palm, their ten fingers intertwined.

As if receiving some signal, Xiao Jue finally snapped the string that had been stretched for too long.

When he turned Zhou Heng over, his movements were not gentle, but rather somewhat impatient. His fingers gripped Zhou Heng's collar, his knuckles turning white, as if he were afraid that Zhou Heng would run away.

Zhou Heng was pinned to the pillow by him, his back sinking into the soft brocade quilt. Before he could even catch his breath, Xiao Jue's kiss landed on him, from his brow to the bridge of his nose, and from the bridge of his nose to his lips.

Every inch was taken without exception, with great force and urgency, as if all the restraint and suppression of the past days had been poured out in this moment.

His lips were burning hot. Zhou Heng was breathless from his kiss, her fingers gripping the back of his head, her fingertips sinking into the thick strands, unsure whether she wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

Xiao Jue placed his palm on his waist, his thumb slowly pushing upwards along the curve of his ribs.