Shen Yangge's little fangs itched, the kind of itch that made him want to bite someone.
Unable to resist, he swallowed, but worried that his movements were too "obvious," he clenched his back teeth and forced himself to hold back.
No, no, I'll get addicted if I drink too much!
Stop thinking about it! I can't think about it anymore! I'm not fucking ready to become sworn brothers with the King of Hell yet.
System 615: [...] Host, that wasn't what you said when you weren't being punished.
Chu Xuanzhen rubbed his thumb over Shen Yangge's wrist while applying ointment with his index finger. His movements were exceptionally gentle, his wide sleeve occasionally brushing Shen Yangge's thigh, seemingly "unintentionally" creating a sense of urgency. His upper body remained still, but he was very close.
So close that Shen Yangge could almost smell the blood in his neck, a fragrance impossible to resist.
A glimmer of red flashed through Shen Yangge's eyes. His lips parted slightly, revealing the tips of his little fangs, and his tongue pressed against the undersides of his teeth.
I can't hold back anymore.
He's bitten me so many times already. It's not illegal for me to bite him back!
The more he thought about it, the more tempted he became. Shen Yangge slowly leaned forward, his eyes clouded with obsession. His lips parted wider and wider, but just as his two little fangs came fully into view, Chu Xuanzhen suddenly reached out and pressed a hand against his lips, bracing the tip of his thumb against his teeth.
He shifted his gaze from Shen Yangge's arm to his face and said, "Scribe Shen, how often do you drink blood?"
That aloof, aristocratic tone snapped Shen Yangge out of his trance. He immediately tilted his head back,