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"first time that i met you, i didn't have a damn clue that i love everything about you." — All 4 Nothing (I'm So In Love) by Lauv

genre(s): SMUT

pairing: zhang jiahao (b2p) x y/n (reader)

summary: a cute love story between you and zhang jiahao, the little boy that you swore to protect against the bullies when you were small— how things escalated when he left you for six years by yourself and how he tried to make up all those years.

words count: 7,841 words (i tried to tone it down...)

part(s): i, ii.

author's note: yes smut so if you're a minor pls don't interact <3 it won't be much of important part either for the continuation of previous part, so it's okay to skip it ^^ hehe i was just thinking of writing one, since i have been making y'all waited too long lmao. this one is not proofread yet either so please forgive me for any mistakes AND THIS IS MY VERY FIRST TIME WRITING SUCH DETAILED SMUT SO YEAH I'M SORRY AGAIN SKJBDHDHS

It had been months since you and Jiahao officially started dating, finally putting an end to the confusing push-and-pull that had lingered between you for so long. Jiahao turned out to be disarmingly sweet and genuinely romantic— far more tender than the polished characters you had spent your teenage years watching in K-dramas.

Not a single day went by without him insisting on driving you to and from work, even when it meant taking the longer route that pulled him in the opposite direction of his own office. Despite being the head of innovation at Guangzheng Group, a family-run company weighed down by generations of tradition, Jiahao never once allowed his packed schedule to become an excuse for neglect. He always carved out time for you, even if it was only a fleeting moment in the middle of his day.

That Tuesday felt ordinary at first, until the evening crept in and the city sky began to melt into shades of muted gold and dusky blue. As the sun dipped lower, Jiahao finally allowed himself a breath of relief, his body and mind both carrying the weight of exhaustion.

He leaned back into the leather chair, letting it spin slightly as one hand slipped through his neatly kept hair, the other massaging the stiffness along his neck. His eyes, heavy with fatigue, flickered towards the clock on his desk— well past his usual dinner time, he noted with a faint sigh.

On most evenings, he would already be on the road, eager to collect you from your office. But tonight was different. You had gently refused, mentioning a celebratory dinner with your colleagues after the project’s successful approval by the client.

Moments like this made Jiahao realise just how hopelessly in love he was with you. A low sound rumbled in his throat, his Adam’s apple shifting as he exhaled and pressed the back of his head against the chair.

The office felt far too empty without you. Every passing second seemed to sharpen his longing.

Oh, how badly he wanted to see you.

To hold you close in his arms, to feel your face tucked against his chest, to brush soft kisses along your temple— those were the moments he craved most. And yes, to touch you in ways that drew breathless little sounds from your lips… that longing burned quietly inside him.

It had to be said: his desire for you was insatiable. Yet Jiahao never once pushed you beyond your comfort. His touch was always gentle, his patience endless, though the way his fingertips lingered on your skin often left you aching for more.

Your very first night together remained etched in your memory. He had been careful, almost reverent, with every kiss and every caress. When you insisted on switching off the lights, too shy to meet his eyes in such vulnerability, he had only smiled and pulled the curtains wider, letting the glow of the city spill into the room. Even then, you knew he longed to see you fully, yet his restraint and tenderness made the moment unforgettable.

The brief flashes of those memories only worsened the ache of his longing. Still, Jiahao reminded himself he was not an impatient man. No matter how much he sulked earlier when you told him about dinner with your colleagues, he respected your choice. He would never ask you to give up your own moments of joy just for him— though, quietly, he wished you were here with him instead.

The sudden knocks on his office door echoed through the quiet space, pulling Jiahao abruptly back into reality. He straightened slightly in his chair, though his body still sagged with exhaustion.

“Come in,” he muttered, his voice edged with fatigue, not bothering to glance up from the scattered notes on his desk.

The door opened, and Huixin stepped inside— the young intern placed under his supervision. Dressed immaculately, she carried herself with a certain composure that belied her inexperience.

“These are the files Mr. Zhang asked you to review,” she said, her tone polite yet efficient. The sharp rhythm of her heels clicked against the marble floor as she crossed the room with practised grace. Reaching his desk, she laid the stack of documents carefully in front of him, aligning the corners with neat precision before stepping back.

With the company preparing to have its proposal for renewable energy innovation presented at the upcoming global competition, it was no surprise the staff worked tirelessly, ensuring no detail slipped through the cracks.

Jiahao finally opened his eyes, the weight of fatigue still pressing at his temples, swivelled his chair just enough to face the growing mountain of papers spread across his desk. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he recalled that morning’s meeting— his father had pressed him with relentless questions, each one sharper than the last. Ostensibly, it was to prepare Jiahao for the judges he would soon face, but he knew well enough it was also his father’s way of testing his only son’s resolve.

He gave a small nod, voice low and roughened with weariness. “Thanks,” he said, taking the documents and sliding them onto the already haphazard pile in the corner of his desk.

The upcoming competition was one of the biggest projects Jiahao had been preparing for over the past few months. The strain of it all was beginning to show, carved into the dark circles beneath his eyes— the very ones you loved to tease and kiss each night before falling asleep.

He was exhausted. God, he was so very tired.

If not for you, Jiahao doubted he would have endured this long. It was your constant presence, your quiet reassurances, and the comfort of your embrace that eased the weight pressing on his shoulders.

And all of it, every sleepless night and every ounce of effort, was for one simple reason: to see that proud smile curve across your lips when the competition was finally over.

Meanwhile, Huixin’s sharp eyes caught the little details others might overlook. The faint creases wrinkling Jiahao’s usually immaculate shirt, the slight disarray in his perfectly styled hair, likely mussed from frustration, and the loosened knot of his tie that betrayed the weight of a long yet draining day.

“Would you like some tea to help you unwind, Mr. Zhang?” Her tone was soft, but any woman would have recognised the serpentine edge beneath it— the kind designed to ensnare, a quiet strategy for survival in a workplace where charm could be as sharp as ambition.

On another day, Jiahao might have noticed. He might have caught the way she lingered just a second too long by his desk, or how she stood closer than necessary. But tonight, weariness dulled his senses. His thoughts were tangled elsewhere, with you, with deadlines, with the endless weight of expectation pressing down on him.

He only nodded faintly at her offer, dragging a weary hand down his face. “Yeah. Thanks,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the computer screen that had flickered back to life after its idle shutdown. “That’d be great.”

“Of course.” Huixin’s lips curved into a wicked smile if one cared enough to look closely.

The sharp click of her heels echoed once more as she exited the office, off to prepare the tea she had so eagerly volunteered to make... When, in reality, it was nothing more than a three-in-one packet. Yet in her mind, it became an offering.

A small step in her quiet determination to win the favour of her supervisor. If she could catch Jiahao’s attention, perhaps she could climb higher in the hierarchy, even as a mere intern who had only been there for two months.

Jiahao, on the other hand, remained oblivious. His world had narrowed to the stack of documents in front of him, each page demanding examination. His tired eyes traced line after line, scanning for flaws or oversights until the words blurred into an indistinct haze— like a dictionary he had stared at for far too long.

“Here you go, Mr. Zhang—” Huixin reappeared after a while, a tray balanced in her hands. She nudged the door open with her arm, stepping inside as she extended the cup toward him.

But her fingers shifted, subtly yet deliberately, just enough for the liquid to slosh over the rim. A small splash landed on his shirt, warm but nowhere near scalding, exactly as she had intended.

The sudden heat made Jiahao’s head snap up, his eyes widening. “Ah, damn it—” he hissed, rising abruptly from his chair as he snatched for the tissues on his desk.

“Careful!” The word escaped sharper than he meant, but his patience was already threadbare after hours of unrelenting work. He dabbed at the spreading stain with a scowl, irritation flickering across his features.

The last thing he needed right now was a tea-stained shirt, one more reminder of how frayed and exhausted he already felt.

“I’m so sorry!” Huixin gasped, bowing low like a child caught in mischief. She leaned in quickly, snatching a few tissues from the desk with exaggerated urgency.

As she dabbed at the damp fabric, her fingers lingered just a moment too long— brushing against his skin in a way that was fleeting yet deliberate, hidden beneath the guise of clumsy helpfulness.

Jiahao’s patience thinned with every accidental touch. His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing in clear irritation. He reminded himself that she had a reputation for being careless, her so-called clumsiness making her oddly popular in the department.

Perhaps this was just another one of those mistakes.

“It’s fine,” he bit out, brushing her hand away as he took the tissues from her. “I can handle it.”

He focused on blotting the stain, though his frayed temper and sheer exhaustion made even that small task feel heavy. And then there was Huixin, hovering too close, using every slip as an excuse to reach for him.

It was irritating. She was irritating.

“Oh?”

You stood frozen in the doorway of Jiahao’s office, your right hand gripping a small cake box. The surprise you had brought for your boyfriend.

Only now, you were the one caught off guard.

Your eyes locked on the scene before you: another woman leaning in far too close, her slender fingers dabbing at the damp fabric of Jiahao’s shirt. Her touch lingered just above his stomach, tracing the faint outline of his abs in a way that made your chest tighten.

The sound of your voice made Jiahao’s head snap up. His body tensed, heart skipping a beat the moment he saw you. The one person he loved most, standing in the doorway with a cake box trembling slightly in your hand.

He had been excited to see you, after all the longing that gnawed at him even when you were apart for only a few hours. But now… now he knew how impractical the situation was. How utterly doomed he looked.

Huixin leaning too close, her hands brushing over his shirt. This wasn’t how he wanted you to find him. He opened his mouth to explain, to say something— anything, but the words betrayed him. Nothing came out. Only silence, and the guilt written plain across his face.

Huixin followed his gaze toward the doorway. Recognition flickered in her eyes instantly. She knew who you were.

Jiahao’s girlfriend. The only partner he had ever loved. The only woman he intended to love until his last breath.

Almost everyone in the company knew how hopelessly devoted Jiahao was to you. How the usually composed and cold head of innovation turned soft and lovestruck whenever you appeared during his lunch breaks.

Huixin stiffened, then bent into a deep bow before slipping quickly toward the door, her heels clicking a retreat.

“Wait, miss.”

Your tone was light, almost gentle, but the edge beneath it stopped Huixin mid-step. She turned back with a brittle and practised smile. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Would you mind making two cups of black coffee?” you asked, your own smile poised and flawless— polished enough to pass for sweet, but sharp enough to sting. You lifted the cake box slightly, your words airy yet deliberate. “My boyfriend prefers his coffee black when I bring him his favourite cake.”

Huixin faltered, her smile wavering. “S-Sure,” she stammered, caught off guard. For the first time, she realised you weren’t like the others. Those fragile girls she’d easily outshone and stolen boyfriends from.

With no choice but to bow her head, Huixin quietly slipped out of the office, closing the door behind her.

Across the office, Jiahao almost gaped at your casual command, surprise and admiration flickering in his eyes. He knew this side of you well. The polished and calculated armour you wore in public when you needed to stand your ground.

But when silence settled again, he shifted uneasily. His shirt was still damp and wrinkled from the tea spill, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like a boy caught misbehaving.

“Y/N…” he began, his voice hesitant, almost unsure.

Your gaze, which had lingered on the door after it clicked shut, slowly turned to him. There he stood by his desk, stiff and guilty, as if waiting for judgement.

“What?” Your reply was curt, your chin tilting upward as you strode closer. The warm smile you had carried into the office earlier was gone— replaced with a cool yet composed expression that made Jiahao’s stomach twist.

You set the cake box on his desk with a quiet thud, the sound sharper than necessary. “How naive are you…” you said evenly, your words like silk-wrapped steel, “…to fall for such a petty trick?”

There was a bite in your tone, but beneath it lingered something softer: an unspoken affection threading through the reprimand. You weren’t truly angry. He hadn’t entirely been at fault.

Still, Jiahao felt a pang of guilt, sharp and sudden, at the disappointment in your eyes. You were right; he should have seen through Huixin’s schemes.

But he had been exhausted, stressed beyond measure, and focused only on finishing his work. He had been caught off guard.

And, for once, it had cost him.

He raked a hand through his hair, letting out a heavy sigh. “Babe, I—” he began, only to cut himself off with another frustrated exhale. “Damn it, I was just… distracted. It was a mistake.”

“How distracted are you, Mr. Zhang?” Your voice remained calm. You tilted your head slightly, arms crossed over your chest as your sharp gaze pinned on him.

Jiahao opened his mouth, then shut it again, fumbling for words that refused to come. His usual confidence had deserted him, leaving only a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His shoulders slumped slightly as he lifted his eyes to meet yours, after briefly dropping them to the floor.

He felt like a fool.

“Too distracted,” Jiahao admitted quietly. “Too damn distracted.”

Yet your expression remained perfectly neutral, your gaze cool and unreadable as it settled on him. Without softening your tone, you tilted your chin slightly toward his office chair.

“Sit.”

The single word left no room for argument— quiet, measured, yet heavy with expectation. Jiahao blinked, and something flickered deep in his chest.

Not defiance. Not resistance.

Arousal.

He lowered himself slowly into the chair, the leather creaking under his weight. Leaning back, he let his eyes darken as he watched you. “Yes… Mrs. Zhang?”

It was a nickname Jiahao liked to use to tease you— part of him delighted in seeing how quickly you’d fluster at the thought of a surname that could one day be yours. Another part of him cherished the idea of living until the day you officially became his, letting him call you Mrs. Zhang in every sense of the word. Those moments always earned your soft and flustered laughter, your cheeks coloring as you hid the thought of being his wife.

But this time was different.

“Who says I’m Mrs. Zhang?” you scoffed, the edge in your voice teasing and sharp as you watched him settle into the chair, moving with the careful caution of someone trying to behave. His wide and boba-like eyes never left yours, silently pleading for a hint of forgiveness.

You leaned forward, your palm pressing firmly on the arm of the spinning chair, closing the space between you despite his taller frame. Jiahao inhaled sharply, following your every movement with intent. The subtle dominance in your posture made the air between you thrum with tension, leaving him caught somewhere between awe and longing.

“I’m still a Y/L/N,” you reminded him softly, tilting your head as you lifted your right hand. The bare finger caught the light— no ring, no promises sealed… not yet.

He watched you, a trace of surrender in his eyes. Your teasing tone made his lips tug into a small, almost helpless smile. Leaning his head back, he stared at you from below, his gaze fixated upside-down. “Right,” he murmured. “You’re still a Y/L/N.”

His eyes drifted to your finger, lingering on the bare skin where a ring might one day sit.

This. This was everything he wanted.

You. This future.

Standing in his office, standing over him, taking control with no hint of hesitation in your eyes.

God, he was hopelessly in love with you.

Jiahao reached up, gripping your wrist gently, his thumb brushing over your pulse. He could feel your heartbeat quicken beneath his touch. And then, unable to hold back any longer, he gave your wrist a firm tug, pulling you onto his lap with effortless ease.

The sudden movement drew a startled yelp from you— you hadn’t expected the balance of control to flip so swiftly.

In an instant, your composed and cool facade crumbled, replaced by a pouty and puppy-like expression. Your brows knitted together in mock frustration, lips curving downward as if he’d just stolen a hard-won victory from you.

“I was supposed to be the one with the upper hand… scolding you,” you whined, your voice a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement.

Jiahao chuckled, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. He could practically hear your pout, the fake frustration woven through your tone.

It was… adorable.

“Is that right?” he murmured, eyes sparkling with mischief as he held you snugly. “You were supposed to be scolding me? Well… I guess I got impatient.”

“H-Hah…” Your lashes fluttered shut as his warm breath grazed your skin, betraying your attempt to resist. He nuzzled the curve of your neck, lips brushing against your pulse point in a deliberate yet feather-light kiss that sent a shiver straight down your spine.

“U… Unfair,” you gasped, voice catching as you tried to steady your breath. Your hands pressed weakly against his chest in a half-hearted attempt to push him away, though your fingers lingered, betraying your resolve.

“Unfair?” Jiahao murmured, his voice low and warm against your neck, the vibration making you shiver again. “You came in here all cool and sharp, like you own the place— which, well… you kinda do. And then you gave me that look… like I was the one in trouble.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, hands still firm on your waist. A slow and dangerous smirk tugged at his lips. “Who's really being unfair here?”

Despite the haze clouding your mind that was thick with longing, you gathered the scraps of your composure. Your legs bracketed his, your weight settling just enough to remind him of the closeness… And probably the control you still held.

“You,” you murmured in a bratty tone, leaning in until the tip of your nose nearly brushed his. Then, with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you nipped lightly at the end of his nose— a playful bite, more mischief than malice.

While dating you and learning the full scope of your personality, Jiahao realised you were just spinning nonsense, acting bratty to wriggle out of the moment. But it was endearing. There was something irresistible about watching you fumble with your own logic, as long as it was cute enough to make him smile.

The nip drew a startled, amused noise from him. Your defiant mixed with bratty energy only made him want you more, the spark of rebellion and sass igniting a fire within him.

He tightened his grip on your hips, pulling you flush against him. His voice dropped into a low, husky growl.

“You’re in no position to be making accusations, princess,” he murmured. “Especially sitting in my lap like the very picture of temptation.”

“Not my fault your intern was practically drooling over you, like you’re some bachelor up for grabs.” You rolled your eyes, shifting slightly on his clothed crotch, just enough movement against him to make Jiahao flinch.

A low groan escaped him, the friction sending a spark of heat through him.

“She was undressing you with her eyes,” you muttered under your breath, jaw tightening as the memory of Huixin’s bold stare replayed in your mind.

Jiahao fought to keep his composure, struggling to maintain some semblance of calm with you perched on him, looking both infuriated and impossibly enticing.

“So what if she was looking?” he countered, voice slightly strained. “I sure as hell don’t care about her… or what she thinks.” He leaned in, lips hovering just millimeters from yours. “I only have eyes for one woman.”

Your lower lip jutted out in a pout as you glared down at your dangerously handsome boyfriend. Your palms cupped his cheeks, pressing just enough to make his lips pucker into a ridiculous duck-face. You studied every line of his face with exaggerated scrutiny, as if examining a priceless work of art.

“Why are you so handsome?” you grumbled through clenched teeth, brows knitting tightly. “Your face shouldn’t just be out there for anyone to see. You should be charging admission.”

Jiahao’s lips curved into a fond and amused smile as you inspected him, your grumpy expression both comical and undeniably adorable.

He reached up, gently taking hold of one of your wrists, eyes twinkling. “You know,” he murmured, voice low and teasing, “You could’ve just said ‘I’m jealous.’”

Your eyes went wide at his bold claim, a flustered laugh escaped your lips. “To hell I’m jealous,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes— though the faint pink on your cheeks threatened to betray your act.

Jiahao’s smile widened as he watched you. He knew he was right. You were totally jealous. The way your cheeks tinted, the subtle pout, the eye-rolls as if trying to dismiss it— It was obvious, almost laughable.

He chuckled, gently squeezing your hips. “Deny it all you want,” he teased. “You’re still sitting in my lap, pouting like a jealous little princess.”

“But, on the other hand, do enlighten me, my jealous little princess,” Jiahao leaned back in his chair, his gaze locked on you. “What made you come here? I thought you had dinner with your officemates.” His free hand reached up, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear with a careful, intimate touch.

“I skipped,” you huffed. “It was boring, and I saw a bakery near the restaurant. Then I saw your favourite cake, so I decided to surprise you with it…”

“... Not knowing I was the one who’d be surprised,” you added with a shrug, nonchalant but cheeky, earning a low string of chuckles from Jiahao.

He watched you, his gaze lingering longer than he intended. If he had told the eight-year-old version of himself that one day he’d be dating the girl who had once protected him from bullies— the quiet, shy little boy would’ve laughed in disbelief.

Now, here you were, right in front of him, surprising him with his favourite cake and making his heart race just by being yourself.

Before he could move his lips to say anything, the friction of your hips against him made his brows furrow and his grip on your waist tighten. A low groan escaped him as he was about to ask what you were doing— only for you to shift again, moving deliberately.

Then came the faint click of the office door.

That was when he realised exactly what you were up to.

On impulse, you arched your back just enough, bouncing subtly yet deliberately on Jiahao’s lap, timed perfectly for the intern to walk in. And just like that, the door opened— Huixin’s faint gasp somehow louder than the teasing little sounds you were letting slip.

You wrapped your arms around Jiahao’s neck, tugging him close until his face rested against your shoulder, your warmth grounding him amidst the playful chaos.

“P-Please… just set them on the desk— ah!” You let out a teasing gasp, exaggerating every sound to make the moment seem far more intimate than it really was.

The flustered intern quickly set the tray down on the desk, hands trembling slightly, before retreating from the office without another word.

On the other side, Jiahao’s body responded almost involuntarily to your movements, playing along with your little act. He pressed his face to your shoulder, pretending to nuzzle and kiss you as if you were in the middle of a passionate moment, letting his low but playful grunts carry just enough to reach the unfortunate intern.

You let out another dramatic cry, voice trembling on cue. Fingers tangled in Jiahao’s hair, you tugged lightly, pressing your cheek to his temple, the teasing intimacy between you two unmissable.

The second the door clicked shut behind a flustered Huixin, you collapsed against his shoulder, muffling a snort-laugh into his shirt.

“Did you see her face?” you whispered between giggles.

Jiahao let out a breathy laugh through his nose, still holding you close, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

“You’re terrible,” he murmured into your skin— but there was no real reprimand in his tone. Only heat. Awe. Adoration.

Then he leaned back just enough to look up at you, eyes dark and sparkling with mischief. “…But I don’t think I felt that little bounce,” he said lowly. “You owe me for that later.”

That was when it hit you— you fucked up.

Your body pressed firmly against the mattress, the one that had borne witness to every moment between you and Jiahao.

Kisses, cuddles, laughter, tears, arguments… and the kind of intimacy that left both of you breathless.

Now, it was just the two of you, tangled together. Your hair spilled across the sheets, and your shirt and bottoms long gone, leaving only the red lace underwear he had bought you last Friday. The sight of it made his lips part slightly, a low and appreciative murmur escaping him.

“You look so fucking beautiful, honey…” Jiahao whispered, leaning in to press another soft kiss against your neck. You instinctively arched toward him, craving more of his warmth and attention, your skin tingling at the gentle brush of his lips.

Every touch, every whisper between you was electric, sending shivers down your spine, making your heartbeat flutter with a mixture of desire, comfort, and trust.

His lips traced deliberate and soft kisses along the curve of your neck, lingering just enough to make your skin tingle, before slowly moving down toward your collarbone. His hands were gentle yet commanding, cupping you in a way that made your breath hitch.

“F-Fuck,” you murmured, eyes closing as you savoured the sensations. He moved down to your cleavage, every brush of his lips and hands sending shivers down your spine. Jiahao paid careful attention to your reactions, learning and remembering the places that made your body respond, his touch both attentive and teasing.

His lips pressed gentle kisses all over the alleyway of your cleavage while his right hand slipped under your bra, the thumb ghostly brushed against your bud.

“Nngh..,” You whimpered, your body melted under his touch, eyes shutting tight at the pleasure being given to your body. Jiahao never forgot the sweet spots he studied on his own when he explored your body.

Your pleasure was mirrored in his warmth and devotion, every caress and kiss a silent promise: that he was wholly attentive to you, to your desires, to the way your body and mind responded to him.

With a practised ease, his other unoccupied hand slid behind you, fingers working with instinctive precision until the clasp of your bra came undone. The garment slipped away, leaving you bare before his hungry gaze. His eyes darkened, lingering reverently on the sight of you before lowering himself to press his lips on your left bud.

“Aaahh..!”

Your bitten lip muffled the sound, but your body betrayed you, back arching as if desperate for more. His mouth closed around your left nipple, lips warm and teasing, while his hand caressed the other with equal care— pinching, rolling, keeping every sensation balanced. The contrast made your toes curl, your arm flung across your eyes to hide the expression you couldn’t contain.

Nestled between your thighs, Jiahao moved with deliberate patience, alternating between gentle kisses and slow circles of his tongue. His fingers mirrored the rhythm, his devotion measured in the way he ensured not a single part of you felt neglected. Every jolt of your body, every trembling gasp, was carefully coaxed out by him— an orchestra he knew how to play by heart.

“Mmm…” The muffled sound vibrated against your lips as your teeth sank into them, trying to contain yourself when his teeth gently grazed your sensitive bud before leaving a soft, claiming bite. The sting melted quickly into pleasure, marking you in the way only he could.

Your hips lifted on instinct, chasing after him, betraying just how badly you wanted more. The subtle motion was all the confirmation Jiahao needed— your body was pleading louder than words ever could.

His gaze drifted downward, catching the dampness darkening the delicate red lace between your thighs. The sight made his throat tighten, desire flaring hot. Slowly, his hand trailed lower, knuckles brushing against your stomach before slipping beneath the lace without a word of warning.

His warm palm cupped your pussy in full, fingers spreading just enough to make you gasp.

“Nngh..!” The sound escaped before you could trap it, your body jolting as if lit by a sudden spark.

Jiahao’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile against your skin. “So ready for me already,” he murmured, voice low and molten, vibrating against your ear as his fingers pressed deeper into the heat he’d uncovered.

Your body jolted in frustration, hips shifting abruptly as you tried to push against his hand. He was deliberately dragging this out— his palm moving in lazy circles, rubbing your folds with slow, maddening precision.

“P-Please!” Both your hands clutched at his wrist, desperate to halt the torture. Your voice cracked with need. “J-Just do it..!”

Jiahao arched a brow, utterly unbothered by your plea, his smirk deepening as he watched you writhe. To him, you looked like someone brand new to this— raw, desperate, undone by the simplest touch.

He dipped his head close, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, velvety and cruel, “No… not yet, sweetheart.”

Before you could form another protest, his longest finger trailed down with agonising patience, teasing the outer folds, playing with the slick heat there before finally slipping inside. The effortless glide was a testament to how ready you were for him.

“A-Ah…!” The cry ripped out of you, your back arching at the sudden invasion.

Every nerve lit up, torn between begging for more and drowning in the slow torment he was crafting. A war inside you— half of you desperate for release, the other half unwilling to let go of the exquisite ache that came with his control.

Jiahao’s gaze stayed locked on your face, drinking in the way you crumbled, savouring every shiver, every gasp. For him, the wait wasn’t just about teasing— it was about watching you fall apart piece by piece, until you belonged wholly to his touch.

His middle finger plunged deep, dragging along your walls in a deliberate rhythm, every thrust making your body jolt. Each time his fingertip curled to grind against that spot inside, your breath shattered— eyes rolling back, lips parting on a desperate cry.

Your small hands clung to his biceps for balance, nails pressing into his skin as his veins flexed under your grip. You looked wrecked already— mascara threatening to smear, chest heaving, your thighs trembling around his arm.

When he slid a second finger inside, your walls stretched around him greedily, a cracked moan tearing free of your throat. “Hngh—!”

“My love, oh, my love,” Jiahao whispered against your cheek, planting tender kisses over the tears welling in your lashes. His arm flexed with every thrust, muscles tensing as he pumped into you faster, harder, his thumb grinding cruelly against your clit.

Your hips bucked helplessly, chasing every curl of his fingers as wet sounds filled the room, your body betraying how close you were to breaking.

“C-Close… ’m so close—” your shaky voice cracked, his name spilling from your lips over and over like a desperate chant. “Jiahao… I’m cl-close..!”

“Go on, sweetheart,” his voice rumbled low and steady, his hand brushing your damp fringe away so he could watch every twitch of your expression. “Be my good girl… Let go for me, princess.”

His words guided you straight into bliss, each thrust of his fingers hitting deep, curling just right inside your soaked walls. Everything outside the room— your endless workload, the firm’s constant pressure, the frustration from colleagues— vanished, burned away by the intoxicating rhythm of Jiahao’s touch.

“Jia… Jiahao—!” your cry broke as your body arched, trembling, before release ripped through you. Heat burst low in your belly as you coated his fingers with your sticky release.

“Atta girl,” Jiahao murmured, his tone full of pride as he slowed his pace, easing you gently down from your high before finally slipping his fingers free.

But he wasn’t done. Not even close.

His hands clamped firmly around your thighs, forcing them open wider as he shoved your soaked underwear aside. The cool air barely hit your swollen folds before his hot tongue flattened against your cunt.

“Ahh—!” You cried out, voice breaking as his tongue licked a long, greedy stripe from your dripping entrance up to your clit. He hummed low against you, the vibration sending another wave of sparks through your already overstimulated core.

Every lap was deliberate, messy, his tongue circling and flicking your folds while his nose brushed against your mound. He devoured you like a man starved, groaning into your wetness as if your taste was the only thing that could quench him.

Your hands flew into his hair, gripping the strands tight, but all it did was spur him on. His tongue plunged inside you, curling, twisting, drinking down every drop of your release before darting back up to tease your clit mercilessly.

Your body arched off the mattress, another cry spilling out, louder and rawer this time. “Jiahao—! N-No more, I— nghhh!”

But Jiahao didn’t stop. He wanted to drown in you.

It didn’t take long for Jiahao to clean up the mess he’d drawn from you, making sure not a single drop of your release went to waste. By the time he finally pulled back, you were sprawled naked across his bed, looking like a vision only he was allowed to see.

Sliding up across you, he lifted his hand, fingers glistening with your wetness. He pressed them against your lips, and without hesitation, you opened, your tongue curling around his digits eagerly.

A muffled moan vibrated in your throat as you sucked him in deeper, your tongue swirling around the pads of his fingers, savoring the taste of yourself. Jiahao’s body burned hotter with every messy lick, every obscene sound your mouth made as you took his fingers in and out, treating them like something far filthier.

When he finally withdrew, a sticky strand of saliva stretched from your swollen lips to his fingers. The lewd sight made his lips curl into a smirk as he brought his thumb to brush over your damp lower lip.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with pride and desire.

Your soft laugh, still breathless, filled the space between you, sinful and sweet all at once.

His free hand slid to the drawer, pulling it open without so much as a glance. He didn’t need to look. He already knew what waited for him there: lube, condoms, and a handful of toys the two of you had tested in countless sinful nights.

But tonight, it wasn’t about the toys. Tonight, it was about you.

Because your pleasure was his. Always.

His fingers curled around the familiar bottle, pulling it out in one smooth motion. With a low exhale, he squeezed the slick gel onto his palm, spreading it down the full length of his cock. The sight alone was obscene— his thick length finally freed from restraint, pulsing with need as his hand worked the lube over every ridge and vein, the head glistening under the dim light.

You couldn’t look away. Kneeling between your thighs, Jiahao looked devastating. His slacks tossed aside, abs flexing with every shift, his work shirt hanging open to reveal the heat of his body. His head tilted forward, eyes heavy with desire as his hand glided up and down, coating himself in a slow, deliberate stroke.

Every movement was for you, and he wanted you to see it.

Your hand trailed over the hard planes of his abs, fingertips gliding down past his pelvis until they reached the heat of his cock. You brushed against the flushed and swollen tip that was already slick and aching, rawing a sharp gasp from Jiahao’s lips.

“Hah…,” his breath hitched, chest rising unsteadily as your fingers toyed with him. His hand faltered and fell from his length, surrendering control to you.

Your thumb pressed against the slit, smearing the wetness that pooled there, while your other fingers curled delicately around the sensitive crown. Instead of helping him spread the lube down his shaft, you focused only on teasing, coaxing every drop of arousal out of him with your touch.

“F–fuck…” Jiahao’s voice broke as his hand shot out, gripping your wrist in a desperate attempt to stop you before he lost control. But he was already too late. His cock twitched violently in your grasp, spilling hot and white streaks across your hand as his precum finally overflowed.

Your eyes sparkled with triumph, savouring the sight of Jiahao’s composure unraveling under nothing but your touch. Pride swelled in your chest. Your fingers alone had the man who always dominated you trembling and whimpering. With deliberate teasing, you smeared his precum over the flushed head, then slid your hand down his length and back up, stroking him with a slow yet taunting rhythm.

A guttural groan tore from his throat. It was raw, unrestrained— Despite his best effort to suppress it. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction, but the haze of pleasure clouding his mind betrayed him. His cock pulsed hard against your palm, each stroke driving him closer, the control he prided himself on slipping away.

“O.. Okay— no,” Jiahao finally gritted out, snapping himself out of the haze. His grip clamped around your wrist, firm and commanding, pulling your hand away from his throbbing length before you could push him over the edge.

“Why?” You purred, voice dripping with mock-innocence, your sultry tone daring him as though the roles had suddenly reversed. Just minutes ago you were falling apart beneath him, but now you were the one smiling, testing his restraint.

He didn’t bother with an answer. Instead, his left hand shot up, pinning both of your wrists against the pillow above your head. With his right hand, he gripped the base of his trembling cock, guiding it down until the flushed tip nudged at your slick folds. A sharp inhale rattled through him as he pushed forward, sliding into your soaked heat, every inch stretching you open until a broken cry spilled from your lips.

“Aahh…!”

Your raw moan cracked as the ache of his slow entry gave way to the shuddering pleasure of being filled. Your fingers twitched helplessly, trapped above your head, aching to clutch at him for support but denied the chance.

“Haa…” Jiahao’s grunt was low, strained, his hips driving forward again. Your walls clenched tight around him, the heat and pressure dragging another ragged groan from his chest. The resistance only spurred him, determination flashing in his eyes as he forced himself deeper, chasing that spot inside you.

The one that would make you unravel, the one that would paint stars across your vision.

His right hand slipped lower, thumb and index finger prying your folds apart so he could watch every obscene detail— how your soaked walls stretched and pulsed, greedily swallowing his thick cock inch by inch as if your body couldn’t get enough of him.

“Nngh…” the sound tore out of you, somewhere between a gasp and a cry, when his length pushed deeper, the stretch overwhelming yet addictive. The sheer fullness left your legs trembling, toes curling against the sheets.

“H.. Hao—” your voice cracked, a broken whimper slipping past your bitten lip as the familiar knot twisted tight in your belly. Your wrists strained against his grip, desperate to reach for him, to anchor yourself, but he only pressed harder into the mattress, keeping you trapped.

Jiahao’s eyes dragged up from the filthy sight of your pussy swallowing him whole to your flushed, tear-streaked face. His chest heaved, his voice rough. “Hngh— Mhm?”

Your head tipped back, the words spilling raw and helpless. “‘m close—”

He loved you most like this, all helpless and undone beneath him. Jiahao’s lips curled into a dark yet satisfied smile, his voice rumbling low against your ear. “That’s it,” he urged, breath hot against your neck. “Let go for me… haa— F-fall apart. I’ve got you.”

Releasing your wrists, both of his strong hands travelled to your waist, thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he guided your hips to meet his every thrust. Each collision of your bodies sent a sharp slap echoing through the room, his cock driving deeper, rougher, as though determined to wring every last ounce of control from you.

“Come on, princess…” his words were a husky growl, lips grazing your ear as his pace grew relentless. “I want to feel you break apart around me.”

“C.. close—” you sobbed, muffled moans spilling into his neck as tears clung to your lashes. Your arms wrapped tight around his broad shoulders, nails dragging across his back with every wave of pleasure. Your thighs quivered, spreading wider, surrendering to him fully— giving him space to drive harder, deeper, until there was nothing left but the promise of your release.

His hips snapped forward, driving you into the mattress as your body rocked with every brutal thrust, hair spilling wild across the pillow, your mascara-streaked face a portrait of ruined beauty.

“I-I’m c… close, H-Hao—” you cried, voice breaking.

“Let go,” Jiahao rasped, his words thick and frayed with hunger. His grip on your waist tightened, thumbs digging hard into your skin as he yanked you down onto him, forcing your body to meet the rhythm of his hips. Each thrust sank deeper, harder, every drag of his cock inside you fueled by the raw ache of hours spent longing for this moment.

“Come for me, princess…” he growled low in your ear, breath hot and ragged.

Your breath hitched, every nerve strung tight as your body trembled against him. Heat, friction, and the sacred sound of his name falling from your lips.

Jiahao’s restraint finally snapped.

“Fuck—” he groaned, his hips faltering for a moment under the sheer force of watching you unravel beneath him. “Y/N… I’m right here, baby. Right here… Hngh— right here with you.”

“C-Clo—” the word broke on your tongue, your voice dissolving into a sob of pleasure.

“Feels so good, Hao,” you whimpered, your back arching off the sheets, body twitching helplessly. “I feel so… good— hah…”

“I know, princess. I know how good it feels,” he rasped, each thrust rougher, deeper, snapping into you with desperate precision. His lips crashed into yours, swallowing your cries as your walls clenched hard around him, milking his cock like you were begging him to stay buried inside.

“Let go,” he urged against your mouth, his tone both a plea and a command. His thrusts never slowed, hips grinding deep as he broke apart every last bit of your control. “Come for me. Fall apart on my cock— Give me everything.”

That was when your body finally broke. Your pussy clenched hard, trembling as hot, white streaks coated his cock with every pulse of your release.

“Jiahao..! Hhhnghh—!” your cry spilled out, raw and unrestrained, eyes squeezed shut as your nails raked down his back. Angry red scratches bloomed across his skin, pulling a guttural grunt straight from his chest.

“There you go…” Jiahao rasped, his voice rough and deep, vibrating against your hair. “That’s it, princess— I’ve got you.”

His thrusts slowed, drawing out every last wave crashing through you. But his own body was already at its edge. His hips jerked once, twice— then he pulled out with a desperate groan, fisting himself fast and rough until hot spurts of his cum spilled over your folds.

“F… Fuckkkk—” his voice cracked into a guttural moan, chest heaving as he rode out his high, pumping every last drop across your trembling pussy. His lashes pressed shut, his jaw tight, every muscle in his body shuddering with release.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The room was thick with the sound of your uneven breaths, the hammering of two hearts still chasing the aftershocks of what you’d just shared.

“You okay?” Jiahao murmured at last, his voice low and rough yet softened with the worry he only ever reserved for you.

His gaze swept over you slowly, drinking in every detail— the flushed heat in your cheeks, your lips parted as you tried to catch your breath, the strands of hair clinging messily to your damp skin.

Your heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open, and instead of words, you let out a faint, breathless chuckle. Shaking your head weakly, you whispered, “No… but you made me feel so good.” You leaned up just enough to press a feather-light kiss to the corner of his lips. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Jiahao’s chest eased at your words, the tension melting into a fond smile. He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a lingering kiss that carried both promise and tenderness.

“I love you, Y/N,” he murmured against your mouth.

Your lips curved into a drowsy smile as you whispered back, “I love you too, Jiahao.”

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