Chapter 157: The Beauty's First Kiss
Yang Jing froze for a moment, and a blush spread across her face.
"No!" She pulled the blanket over her face and answered tremblingly in a voice so soft even she could barely hear it.
As soon as she finished speaking, Zhang Yang gently turned her body over so that her face was facing him.
Yang Jing trembled slightly, her long eyelashes fluttered once, then she quickly returned to normal. She stared at Zhang Yang, Zhang Yang stared at her, their eyes locked. They could hear each other's hearts beating rapidly, and their breaths grew hotter and hotter.
"Don't!" Realizing what might happen next, Yang Jing's eyes grew flustered, showing a trace of hesitation!
But before that hesitation could fade, Zhang Yang had already wrapped his arms around her fragrant shoulders, pulling her close, sealing her rosy lips. The moment his lips touched hers, he felt warmth and softness.
Yang Jing froze, like a lamb waiting for slaughter. She closed her eyes, letting Zhang Yang part her cherry lips and slip past her teeth. Before she could even let out a moan, her little lilac tongue was caught in a whirlpool, instantly losing control.
Is this a kiss?
Unconsciously, a warm feeling rose from her chest. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around Zhang Yang. Without realizing it, a tear slid down from her closed eyes to the corner of her lips—tears of long-awaited longing.
Zhang Yang could feel her body getting hotter, her lilac tongue beginning to release faint sweetness. He devoured greedily, entangling, slowly guiding her inexperienced movements.
Heavy breathing, burning saliva entwined between their tongues…
When both of them were nearly out of breath, Yang Jing suddenly pushed Zhang Yang away, her face flushed red as she glared at him. She suddenly raised her hand, as if to slap him: "How could you…"
But halfway through, her hand softened. She suddenly wrapped her arms around Zhang Yang's neck, holding him tightly, her cherry lips twisting like a water snake to take the lead.
This feeling was something she had never experienced before—fear and excitement tangled together. So kissing could feel this good? At this moment, she didn't care about their age gap, morals, or propriety. Even if the sky were to fall, she didn't care anymore.
Neither knew how long they lingered. When they finally parted, gasping for breath, their clothes were already in disarray.
Yang Jing's beautiful face was flushed, her eyes soft and dazed, the corner of her rosy lips still glistening with moisture. Her nightgown had somehow come loose, revealing a thin beige thermal top beneath. Below her collarbone, two firm peaks rose prominently.
She wasn't wearing a bra underneath. The tight beige cotton clung to her full breasts, two small buds pressing against the fabric, faintly visible, as if ready to burst through at any moment.
"Mm!" Yang Jing looked down and immediately noticed her indecency, but before she could cover herself, Zhang Yang hugged her again. She calmed slightly, gently pushing him away, panting softly, "No, Yangzi, if we keep going, we'll make a mistake. Please, let's stop here."
Her gaze was firm. Zhang Yang, seeing that, couldn't force it any further, and simply nodded.
"But… you can still hold me. Just… don't cross the line." Maybe she thought rejecting him so coldly would hurt him—or maybe she herself was reluctant—so she left him a trace of fantasy.
"Alright then, I'll just hold you." Zhang Yang nodded.
Yang Jing adjusted her clothes, then curled up like a kitten and lay down. Zhang Yang, as before, wrapped his arm around her shoulder from behind.
The passion hadn't yet faded. As Zhang Yang pressed close to her fragrant, tender body, his lower half swelled rapidly, a certain part of him pressing firmly between her plump curves.
"Mm…" Yang Jing clearly felt the change behind her, her body going soft and numb.
"Yangzi, are you feeling uncomfortable holding it in?" As a doctor, she naturally understood such physiological reactions, and what a normal man would feel in such a moment.
"Yeah." After the passion they'd shared, Zhang Yang no longer felt any restraint. Now, in his eyes, Yang Jing was already a woman he wanted to protect—his lover, his sisterly woman.
"Why don't you… try to distract yourself, think about something else, maybe that'll help." Yang Jing shifted uneasily. She knew the best way was to move away from him, but she was too shy—and perhaps a bit unwilling—to do that.
"I'll try." Zhang Yang looked at her fair, delicate neck, smelled her mature, faint fragrance, and felt the soft elasticity of her body against him. There was no way he could cool down.
"It's all my fault…" Yang Jing struggled a few times, but the more she moved, the harder Zhang Yang became. She stopped moving altogether.
Zhang Yang gently caressed her smooth, flawless cheek and brushed her cherry lips. Yang Jing didn't resist; instead, she held his hand against her face.
"Jing-jie, when you took care of my grandpa in the hospital, I made a vow."
"Mm, what vow?"
"I swore that if one day I became successful and you still hadn't married, I'd marry you and bring you home."
Yang Jing's heart trembled slightly, then she smiled softly and patted his hand on her cheek. "Nonsense. I'm older than you. How could I… marry you."
"It's true." Zhang Yang tightened his grip on her delicate wrist. "And that age excuse is ridiculous. You're only twenty-six… We're a perfect match. You know what the experts say?"
"What do they say?" Though she knew he was talking nonsense, Yang Jing still asked with a trace of curiosity.
"Experts say thirty-year-old women should find strong twenty-year-old men, and thirty-year-old men should find twenty-year-old women."
"Uh… why?" Yang Jing had a vague guess but still asked.
"Because thirty-year-old women have the highest desire, and only young men in their twenties can satisfy them. Meanwhile, men at thirty no longer see sex as everything—they just want a young girl to have a kid with."
"Nonsense!" Yang Jing's pretty face turned red. She smacked Zhang Yang again. "And I'm only twenty-six, far from thirty!"
Indeed, no matter how beautiful a woman is, she's always sensitive about her age.
Zhang Yang smiled faintly. "Really, if you don't believe me, ask Du Niang!"
"I don't believe it." Yang Jing turned her head away, ignoring him. Yet behind that turned face, a flicker of doubt appeared—could he actually be right?
Deep down, she truly did seem to yearn for that kind of intimacy… and yearn deeply. After all, she was twenty-six, and tonight was her first kiss. Such a beautiful youth—was she really going to let it slip away?
After that, silence lingered for a long time. Just when Zhang Yang thought she had fallen asleep, Yang Jing suddenly whispered, "Yangzi, how about… let me help you with that…"