Chapter 73: Do You Like Seeing Me Lose Control So Much?

Lu Huaiyan was always patient when it came to such matters.

No matter how urgent his desires, he could suppress his restlessness, playing it like a piano—starting with a precise, gentle prelude before gradually quickening the tempo, building step by step to the crescendo.

But this time, there was no prelude, no buildup. He went straight to the main act.

The moment his lips descended, Jiang Se furrowed her brows and let out a soft hum.

The car’s windows were sealed shut, the dim interior suffused with thin air.

It didn’t take long for Jiang Se to part her lips, gasping for breath. Her brows seemed to quiver, her damp lashes clinging together in strands, trembling incessantly.

The last time, at Xinhe Mansion, she had bitten down hard on Lu Huaiyan’s shoulder, furious that he had stirred wavering emotions in her. When he asked why she was angry, she said it was because he’d hurt her.

He had laughed, saying he hadn’t even used his full strength.

Now, Jiang Se truly felt the full force of his strength.

And she finally understood how much he had held back before—and how utterly unrestrained he was this time.

Their clothes remained on, the leather seatback behind them rustling with the friction of fabric, swaying in the confined, shadowy space.

Her dark hair spilled around her, her thoughts as fragmented as the choked sounds escaping her throat.

One moment, she recalled the dizzying sensation of curling up in a wooden boat as a child; the next, she remembered Guo Qian holding a risqué comic, asking if someone could really be broken like a rag doll.

In a daze, she felt as if she were riding a rollercoaster, climbing to its peak, only for everything to halt just as the weightless drop loomed.

Lu Huaiyan brushed the hair from her face and leaned down to kiss her lips.

Jiang Se cracked her eyes open, her chest heaving, breathless from both lack of air and frustration.

He was deliberately withholding from her.

She lifted her foot to nudge his shoulder. “Are you going to keep going or not?”

The car’s lone reading light cast a warm, amber glow from the front seat.

Her face was flushed, her usually cool and aloof features eroded by desire, like a fallen crescent moon dragged from the lofty heavens into the muddy mortal world.

“Keep going? Why wouldn’t I?” Lu Huaiyan caught her ankle, shifting her position, and leaned close to her ear. “Is it so hard to say it? Your body’s so soft, but your mouth’s so stubborn.”

Furious, Jiang Se tried to kick him with her other foot, but the next second, her voice caught, and her arched foot slammed against the window glass.

Lu Huaiyan was struggling to hold back even more than she was.

This man, born with little mercy in his heart, unleashed a ferocity that surged like a flood breaking through a dam.

Both of them were spiraling out of control.

Jiang Se bit his shoulder and collarbone through his shirt, her muffled whimpers trapped in her throat, sounding like the wail of the wind.

This time, it wasn’t the weightless fall from the heavens.

She felt like a delicate porcelain piece tumbling off a cliff into an abyss, plunging endlessly through mist and haze, shattering into fragments.

Outside the shuttered door, faint voices and the sound of tires gripping the road drifted in.

And the rhythmic crash of waves against the riverbank.

The oxygen in the car dwindled, the windows gradually fogging up.

When the car door finally opened from the inside, Jiang Se was wrapped in a large men’s suit jacket, cradled in Lu Huaiyan’s arms as he carried her out.

The sky had darkened.

The cool air of late spring evening rushed in, sending goosebumps across her damp neck. She buried her face in Lu Huaiyan’s shoulder, her breath still ragged.

Lu Huaiyan quickened his pace, twisting the garage door handle and carrying her inside.

A laundry room connected the garage to the living room, the heater already warming the space.

Lu Huaiyan held a foil packet in his left hand and pressed her against the door.

“Where to?” His voice was hoarse, gritty.

Jiang Se lifted her head from his shoulder, her sweat-dampened hair clinging to her cheeks, her eyes rimmed with a faint red.

She’d been burning up in the car, her dress long discarded.

The deep gray suit jacket hung loosely on her, the sleeves too long. She slipped her hands out, her cool fingertips grazing his face.

Their eyes met, and they knew exactly what the other wanted.

“Here?”

“Mhm.”

Lu Huaiyan tore open the foil packet with his teeth and leaned down to kiss her.

His kiss was gentle, his strength restrained.

Jiang Se slid her hands into his sweat-dampened hair, her voice hoarse. “I want you like you were before.”

Lu Huaiyan paused, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her, holding back. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

In the car, he’d been ruthless, not holding back an ounce.

Like a beast driven mad by desire, stripped of reason.

Unlike before, when he’d always kept a thread of control, afraid of hurting her, no matter how deep he sank.

Jiang Se didn’t say whether it hurt or not, only gazed at him. “I like you like that.”

The shred of restraint Lu Huaiyan had gathered was obliterated by her words.

This girl knew exactly how to ignite the madness in his bones.

Her body was limp with exhaustion, yet she still dared to provoke him recklessly.

Lu Huaiyan exhaled sharply. “Do you like seeing me lose control so much?”

As he spoke, his hand moved to his shirt, undoing the last two buttons.

In the car, she’d bitten wherever was convenient—his shoulder, his collarbone. Worried the buttons might hurt her teeth, he’d unfastened the top few and pulled the shirt aside for her to bite.

As the shirt fell away, Lu Huaiyan couldn’t wait another moment. He lifted her higher with a flex of his arm, his lips brushing her ear, his voice low. “If it’s too much, bite me.”

Jiang Se’s brows furrowed, her jaw pressing tightly against his shoulder.

He was right.

She loved watching him lose control.

Loved it so much her soul trembled.

The world fractured in her blurred vision. Before long, she closed her eyes, calling his name softly, her voice urgent.

“Lu Huaiyan.”

Seconds later, another, even more urgent cry—

“Lu Huaiyan.”

Her calls sent the veins in Lu Huaiyan’s forehead pulsing, his restraint crumbling further.

When the laundry room door finally opened, Jiang Se could no longer speak.

She was soft as cotton, letting him carry her to the second-floor bathroom.

They didn’t continue in the bathroom. The shower’s water pattered down, but she lacked the strength to even open her eyes. After a quick rinse to wash away the sticky traces, Lu Huaiyan carried her to bed.

It was the best sleep she’d had since they parted.

No need for anything else—just his warmth was enough to lull her into a deep slumber.

When she woke, she thought it was midday.

But the sky was still dark.

Lu Huaiyan’s hand rested by her face. Sensing her stir, he gently brushed her earlobe. “Awake?”

His voice was clear, his eyes alert.

Jiang Se murmured a hoarse “mhm.” “You didn’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

Lu Huaiyan covered her eyes with his hand, switched on a wall lamp, and waited for her to adjust to the light before moving it. “Thirsty?” He looked down at her, reaching for a glass on the nightstand. “Want some water?”

He’d used his left hand to shield her eyes.

As he pulled it back, the scar on his palm—a thin, blood-red line—caught her gaze clearly.

Jiang Se blinked, ignoring her aching body as she slowly sat up. Lu Huaiyan brought the glass to her lips.

She sipped slowly, small gulps, until half the glass was gone, then pushed it away. “No more.”

Lu Huaiyan finished the rest, set the glass down, and heard her say, “Take me to the bathroom.”

He glanced at her, slipped on a thin V-neck sweater, and lifted her from the blankets into his arms. As he walked to the bathroom, he teased, “Still no strength?”

Knowing he’d worn her out, he softened his tone, coaxing, “Want me to massage you later?”

Jiang Se didn’t reply.

In the bathroom, she turned on the mirror light, had him set her on the counter, and half-turned to open the mirror cabinet, pulling out a medical kit.

“Give me your hand.” She rummaged through the kit, taking out iodine and cotton swabs.

Lu Huaiyan looked into her eyes, a faint smile on his lips, and extended his hand.

The cut on his palm wasn’t deep, but it had split open a few times during their earlier intensity, staining her dress and his suit jacket with blood.

The last time they were in this house, he’d been the one tending to a wound on her palm.

Back then, he’d said she was ruthless to herself.

Now, the tables had turned, and she was the one treating him.

Lu Huaiyan had endured far worse injuries growing up and didn’t think much of such a small cut.

While Jiang Se applied the iodine, his gaze never drifted to his palm, staying fixed on her face.

Only when she finished did he seek her eyes, leaning down to kiss her lips firmly.

“Worth the pain.”

“…”

Jiang Se packed up the kit, her eyes instinctively flicking to his shoulder, hidden by his shirt.

She’d bitten him there again, hard enough to draw blood.

Lu Huaiyan took the kit from her, placing it back, and said, “No need for that. I’m not that delicate.”

He said no, and Jiang Se didn’t bother insisting.

Last time, he hadn’t treated it either.

Her gaze lifted. “Where’s my phone?”

In the car, Guo Qian had nearly blown up her phone with calls.

Lu Huaiyan had silenced it, along with his own.

“It’s charging in the living room. Battery’s dead.” He pinched her fingers. “Want me to get it?”

“I’ll go myself.”

She moved to slide off the counter, but Lu Huaiyan pressed her waist, stopping her.

Jiang Se looked up at him.

“No more talk of ending things. Don’t worry about Grandfather or Mother—they can’t control me.” He met her eyes. “As for anyone else, why bother with them? If someone upsets you, deal with them yourself if you want, or if you can’t be bothered, I’ll handle it.”

She wasn’t a caged canary or a clinging vine.

Lu Huaiyan had seen her strength and wouldn’t arrogantly assume she needed him for everything.

Once she decided to be with him, no one could sway her.

Jiang Se gave a soft “mhm.”

Her eyes reflected his face, his refined features carrying a serene beauty.

Lu Huaiyan’s throat bobbed, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

The Weibo post he’d made—Jiang Se revisited it later through a screenshot Guo Qian sent.

[#No engagement, no arranged marriage. My ancestor is hard to please and harder to serve, and I’m still in pursuit# @HalfRiverSereneHalfRiverRed]

Jiang Se’s focus was on “hard to please and harder to serve.”

Guo Qian’s focus was: “Holy crap, Se Se, Lu Huaiyan called you his ancestor!”

Guo Qian’s voice message blared through the phone’s speaker, and the man on a call nearby shot a slow glance her way.

Jiang Se met his gaze for a silent second before plugging in her earphones to listen to Guo Qian’s dramatic wails, opening Weibo at the same time.

Lu Huaiyan’s post had already been pulled from trending, though it had briefly topped the charts.

With past rumors about him and Sun Wei, plus his status as the Lu family’s heir and a face no one could forget, the post had sparked speculation about who this @HalfRiverSereneHalfRiverRed was.

A young, handsome, and wildly successful heir—gossip-hungry netizens were obsessed with his romantic entanglements.

Many guessed the @HalfRiverSereneHalfRiverRed was Sun Wei’s alt account.

Before bed, Jiang Se had asked Lu Huaiyan to pull the post from trending. When she woke, the discussions had died down.

Now, the Lu Corporation’s official Weibo had pinned a post about a new collaboration with the Guan family.

The post included photos of the Guan brothers with Lu Huaiyan, plus one of Guan Jiayi and Lu Xingqiu.

In the photo, Guan Jiayi sat beside Lu Xingqiu, her wrist adorned with an antique prayer bead bracelet—Lu Xingqiu’s favorite diamond-patterned bodhi beads.

Lu Huaiyan, done with his call, saw her looking at the photo of Guan Jiayi and Lu Xingqiu. He pulled her into his arms and said lightly, “In a couple of days, Grandfather will hold a formal recognition banquet at the old residence. Not just people from Beicheng and Hong Kong, but a few reporters close to the Lu family will be there.”

Once such a banquet was held, Guan Jiayi would officially be the Lu family’s goddaughter.

As a goddaughter, there could be no scandalous rumors linking her romantically to Lu Huaiyan.

Their relationship would remain strictly platonic.

Guo Qian’s voice messages had long finished. Jiang Se removed her earphones and said, “I won’t go that day.”

She knew Lu Xingqiu would send her an invitation. That parrot of his had blurted out the nickname Lu Huaiyan gave her in broad daylight—how could Lu Xingqiu not guess his intentions?

He’d probably had the parrot squawking “debt collector” and “young lady” at home to confirm it.

He hadn’t come to see her these past few days, likely because Lu Huaiyan had stopped him.

“Does your family’s parrot call me ‘debt collector’ when it hears ‘Jiang Se’ and ‘young lady when it hears ‘Se Se’?”

Lu Huaiyan corrected, “It’s the wolf cub’s debt collector and Lu Huaiyan’s young lady.”

“…”

Jiang Se glanced at him. “How’d you explain it to Grandpa Lu?”

Lu Huaiyan said, “I told him you haven’t agreed to me yet. Grandfather said I deserve it.”

He looked at her again. “He also said ‘debt collector’ suits you, that I deserve to be strung along by you. I told him he can’t pressure you or bother you, or he’ll be to blame if I can’t win you over.”

Old Master Lu wasn’t young anymore. With his old friends either dead or ill, he was fixated on Lu Huaiyan’s marriage, wishing he’d settle down and give him great-grandchildren immediately.

But Lu Huaiyan’s words had kept him from summoning Jiang Se to the old residence.

Jiang Se toyed with her Bluetooth earphones in silence.

Lu Huaiyan tightened his arm around her. “Don’t overthink it. Whether we marry or have kids doesn’t matter. I’ll handle Grandfather. Even if he knows about your illness, it won’t change us.”

Jiang Se gave another soft “mhm.”

Seeing her expression unchanged, Lu Huaiyan shifted topics, mentioning Cen Li. “After that Weibo post went up, Cen Li called me a few times. What should I tell him?”

Jiang Se said, “Tell him I’m still sick and don’t want to accept you.”

The account Lu Huaiyan tagged was an old alt she hadn’t used since changing her surname. Her main account, tied to her role as Hongsheng’s director, had been deactivated after she left the company.

Only a few close people—like Cen Li, Guo Qian, Fu Yun, and Zhu Mingli—knew this alt was hers.

If Zhu Mingli saw that post, she’d likely panic even more.

Jiang Se lowered her eyes slowly.

Good.

She needed her to panic. How else would she cooperate properly?

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