Chapter 85: He Wants to Kiss Her

He hadn’t listened to a word of her instructions; all his attention was fixed on her irresistibly chattering lips, opening and closing incessantly.
He wanted to kiss her.
Yes, right now.
His large hand seized her slender wrist, and with a pull, she tumbled into his arms, completely unguarded.
The sudden movement startled Meng Yier; her eyes widened in shock, and her babbling ceased.
She caught a glimpse of a strong arm wrapping around her waist, and before she could react, she was already seated on Yan Yichen’s lap.
Her hands instinctively clung to his shoulders.
She bowed her head ever so slightly and found herself lost in his deep, shadowy eyes.
Instantly, Meng Yier’s face flushed crimson, acutely aware of the searing heat radiating from his chest and thighs.
His hand gripped her waist tightly, almost scorching her skin, sending a tremor rippling outward.
“What… are you doing?” Meng Yier’s gentle voice quivered with fright.
His Adam’s apple bobbed; Yan Yichen’s hand stroked her cheek, his voice hoarse as he murmured,
“I want to kiss you.”
Kiss her?
He was so forthright.

But why?
Isn’t kissing an intimate act that lovers share naturally, when feelings run deep?
Why did he want to kiss her?
Could it really be, as Yu Mingxin said, that he liked her?
But he had never spoken of it…
“If you don’t say anything, I’ll take it as consent.”
That husky voice sounded abruptly. Meng Yier was lost in her thoughts, and before she could respond, Yan Yichen’s thin lips pressed against hers, capturing them perfectly.
Her lips were impossibly soft, carrying an unfamiliar fragrance, her breath gentle and pure, delicate yet refreshing, tasting just as wonderful as he remembered.
Meng Yier was terrified by his sudden kiss. Her hands pressed against Yan Yichen’s chest, her eyes wide as she stared dazedly at his magnified handsome face.
His nose was high and straight, a lock of hair falling over his forehead with casual ease, lending him an air of lazy sensuality.
He closed his eyes, kissing her passionately, as if worshipping a rare treasure.
She suddenly noticed how long his eyelashes were, trembling faintly; even women rarely possessed such lashes.
All at once, a sleeping face flashed into Meng Yier’s mind, unbidden and unexpected. Though blurred, the features and contours were unmistakable.
That face overlapped gradually with the one before her, and there was not a single difference.
No—something wasn’t right!

Why did she suddenly recall that face?
That eternally blurred visage in her memory.
The man who had taken her virginity six years ago.
That morning, six years past, the man who had claimed her innocence had slept beside her bed. When she awoke from drunkenness, shock, fury, confusion—so many emotions tangled within her, overwhelming her completely. She hadn’t even had the chance to glimpse his face clearly before fleeing in panic.
She only vaguely remembered that the man had eyelashes so long, women would envy them.
For six years, that was all she remembered of him.
It was her eternal pain, one she’d never spoken of, nor wished to recall.
She only wanted to bury it deep within her heart.
For someone face-blind like Meng Yier, even the face she’d never truly seen grew ever more indistinct in her mind, remembered only as impossibly handsome.
Meng Yier reassessed the man before her—he too was breathtakingly handsome.
Could it be him?
In this vast world, could such coincidence exist?
Suddenly, Meng Yier felt helpless. She longed for the truth, yet feared it.