Eleven Months Later:
...
"Miss Song," said Instructor Zhang Enyu as the students in his class packed up to leave the lecture hall. "Can we discuss your history essay about the Three Kingdoms?"
"Of course, Mr. Zhang," Song Meiling replied. She went over to his desk, pulling out her report. Zhang Enyu looked it over and said, "The primary sources you used for your research is incredible. You wrote about the conquest of Wei, usurped by the Jin dynasty. But how come you did not include information on technological advancement during this period?"
"Eh?" Song Meiling snatched the paper out of his hands, frantically flipping through the pages. She could have sworn she dedicated a few sentences, if not a paragraph.
"Miss Song, I will like to see you in my office to further this discussion," he told her, wearing a smug smile.
Song Meiling looked at him and instantly felt like pinching him for scaring her. She nodded, collecting her bag, trying not to blush. She then shuffled along with the other students, walking away. Down the hall, she looked both ways, taking a detour. Even though she was allowed to see her instructor during office hours, she avoided being seen as much as possible, to prevent suspicion.
Even though Zhang Enyu's contract with the school almost finished, it had become a force of habit for her to protect his reputation.
Song Meiling slipped into his private office, sitting in a seat across the empty one by his desk. She thought about the times he took her there, making-love to her over the desk, on his chair, or when he bent her over the鈥?/p>
Zhang Enyu swept in. Song Meiling's heart leapt frantically; he still had that effect on her, which was different from two years ago when they met. He grasped her hands, knelt and stared up at her with聽a sad and warm smile.
"I just got off the phone today with a University in Vancouver. They offered me a full-time position; it pays very well, and I will obtain a stable income for myself."
Song Meiling smiled grimly. She knew that all Zhang Enyu wanted to do was get a job that paid well. He studied hard to get to this point, and he deserved it. But it also reminded her that he'd leave her soon.
She kissed him softly on the lips. "You deserve it," she replied to him, cupping his face, "I'm so happy for you."
Zhang Enyu smiled against her mouth. "Meiling, I truly adore you."
She embraced him tightly, suddenly having the overwhelming desire to tell him she loved him. But she hadn't said those words in a long time to anyone, but she trusted Zhang Enyu enough to love him, enough to give herself. But what then? He'd still leave her, but she was happy enough that if they were to part, they'd part in the best of terms, nothing messy, only peaceful.
Zhang Enyu took her home, and they walked into the house hand-in-hand. They came clean about their relationship with her parents. Her father shrugged, and her mother clasped her hands together and said, "Finally! I really had no hope for you." To which Song Meiling rolled her eyes and laughed.
Zhang Enyu had been helping her pick out apartments for weeks so she could move out since it felt like it was time to leave the main house. But she found no luck. She looked through many articles, ads, and open houses, but there was nothing that screamed: home.
Zhang Enyu stepped from the shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He found Song Meiling by his computer, scrolling through apartment ads. He swept her hair aside, kissing the nape of her neck. He enveloped her in his arms from behind, resting his chin over her shoulder.
"Any luck?" he asked her.
Song Meiling pouted. "Nothing."
"Do you want to look at鈥?#34; He began to say before he was cut off.
"I just want to go to bed," she told him. She looked at him with longing eyes, telling him a different meaning.
Zhang Enyu then pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist, gazing into her eyes. He lifted her chin, looking at her intensely. He then bent down to capture her lips, and she instinctively shuddered against him, pushing him back towards the bed.
She took over, kissing him, trying to dominate. Instead, he ran his tongue down her throat, kissing and biting at the pulse of her neck. He was breathing hard, eager to press and slide their bodies against each other.
Zhang Enyu turned her over, and she fell onto the bed softly. Song Meiling spread her legs open for him,聽ready for him. The sight of her aroused him. Zhang Enyu couldn't explain how erotic it felt to see her lewd her expression as she opened her legs widely. Her flesh widening for him, slick and wet. Song Meiling wore a thin-strapped nightgown and no underwear. He had immediate access, but he didn't like to take her without feasting first.
He used his mouth and all of the fingers of one hand to pleasure her. Some were inside; some flicked against her soft flesh in sync with his tongue. Song Meiling arched her back, her toes curled. She grasped his silver hair, using it as a clutch.
"Enyu...please, fuck me," she breathed.
Zhang Enyu stood up, discarding the towel on his waist. Song Meiling's mouth went dry at seeing his considerable length harden and grow in front of her eyes. He went over to the nightstand, pulling out one of the last few condoms in the box.
Song Meiling pulled her gown over her head and laid back down for him to slide together smoothly. Song Meiling gasped, tightening around him. He lifted her hips, bringing her closer to the edge. Song Meiling loved to watch his expression from the moment he enters to the moment he's coming closer.
He bent down to kiss her frantically, twirling his tongue with hers. Song Meiling felt as if she was in ecstasy. Zhang Enyu then placed her legs over her shoulders, joining their hands together.
When they finished, Song Meiling curled up against him. She breathed in his scent, feeling content. After thirty minutes, she stirred and whispered to him, "I want to do it again."