Zayne woke up on the FLOOR.
...
* I'm on the floor. I fell off the bed. No. Wait. I was KICKED off the bed.*
He looked up at the tiny bed where his wife was STARFISHED, taking up all 120cm of space, one leg hanging off the edge.
* She kicked me. In her sleep. Like an unwanted pillow. This is my life.*
Before he could even sit up, she started ROLLING.
Like a burrito.
Roll. Roll. Roll.
Right off the edge of the bed.
*She's going to— she's falling— I should catch—*
Too late.
She LANDED on top of him with an "OOF."
*She's using me as a mattress. A human landing pad. This is fine. This is normal morning behavior apparently.*
She was STILL ASLEEP, settling onto his chest like this was perfectly normal, face POUTING even unconscious.
*She's pouting in her sleep. What is she dreaming about? Flamingo punishment? Stolen macarons? Me being mean?*
He sighed (#882), but couldn't help himself—he pecked her pouty lips gently.
She stirred, eyes fluttering open slowly, then NUZZLED into his neck like a baby hamster.
"Mmm... good dream..." she mumbled.
"Good morning to you too, hamster."
"Dreamed about sunflower..." she said sleepily. "It was very happy..."
* She dreamed about my penis. She's TELLING me she dreamed about my penis. Before coffee. Before breakfast. This is our relationship.*
He flicked her forehead.
"OW! Why?!"
"Because you're talking about sunflower at 7 AM while lying on top of me on the floor."
She GIGGLED, then grabbed his hands. "Shower time! Together! Like always!"
* Shower time. Like always. This is our routine now. I've accepted this.*
They stood under the water, and—like CLOCKWORK—she started STARING.
At sunflower.
Like it might explode. Or perform tricks.
* The staring. Every morning. Like she's never seen it before. Like it's a fascinating science experiment.*
She POKED it.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Poke poke poke.
She GIGGLED each time.
I'm being poked. Repeatedly. Before 8 AM. I've become so used to this I don't even flinch anymore.*
"Still there!" she announced proudly.
"Where else would it GO?"
"I don't know! Maybe it goes on vacation sometimes!"
*Vacation. My anatomy takes vacations according to my wife's logic. This is fine. Everything is fine.*
He didn't mind. Not really. As long as she didn't ANNOUNCE their activities to the entire household.
*Low bar. But important bar. Privacy is valuable.*
He washed her hair carefully while she continued her morning inspection, humming happily.
*This is domestic bliss. Bizarre, chaotic domestic bliss.*
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Breakfast was elaborate—the Wang family chef had prepared a full spread.
Zayne sat beside Nana, automatically putting meat and vegetables on her plate.
She POUTED immediately. "I only eat SWEET things in morning!"
"You need protein and nutrients—"
"But SWEET—"
"Eat the vegetables first, THEN sweet things."
*Negotiating breakfast like hostage situation. Parenting my own wife. This is normal.*
She pouted harder, but ate a piece of vegetable while giving him the SADDEST eyes.
*The eyes. Designed to make me feel guilty. It's working.*
Across the table, her parents sat STIFFLY.
Wang Tao was drinking coffee with intense focus.
Her mother was studying her plate like it held secrets of the universe.
*They're acting strange. Stiff. Uncomfortable. They're usually warm and— OH. Oh no. They HEARD. Last night. They heard EVERYTHING.*
His ears went BRIGHT RED.
*The creaking bed. Nana's muffled sounds. The. They HEARD. I defiled their daughter in their house and they KNOW.*
Nana, completely oblivious, munched on vegetables happily. "After I eat vegetables, I need something SWEET for dessert!"
"We have fruit—" her mother started.
"Not THAT sweet!" Nana interrupted, turning to Zayne with BIG EYES. "I want ZAYNE sweet!"
...
*She means kissing. She's asking to kiss me. At breakfast. In front of her parents. As DESSERT.*
Before he could respond, she CLIMBED into his lap, right there at the dining table, puckering her lips.
* She's in my lap. At breakfast. In front of CEO father and elegant mother. Asking for kiss dessert. This is happening.*
Her parents were FROZEN.
He pecked her lips quickly. "There. Dessert."
She shook her head ADORABLY. "No! FRENCH kiss! Real dessert!"
*French kiss. She wants French kiss. As breakfast dessert. While her PARENTS watch.*
She grabbed a macaron from the table, took a bite, then opened her mouth to show him. "See? My mouth tastes SWEET too! Like macaron! Very dessert!"
* She's showing me her macaron-flavored mouth. Advertising her tongue flavor. At the BREAKFAST TABLE. My sanity has LEFT THE BUILDING.*
His face was BURNING. His dignity was on SATURN.
*Saturn. My dignity is literally on another PLANET.*
Her parents BURST out laughing.
"Zayne," Wang Tao wiped tears from his eyes, "how do you HANDLE her?"
*Handle her. I don't. She handles ME. I'm just along for the chaotic ride.*
"With patience," he said diplomatically. "And strategic compromises."
"Like kiss desserts?" Her mother teased.
* They're TEASING me. My in-laws are teasing me about their daughter's public affection demands. This is my life now.*
Nana was still in his lap, still puckering, still WAITING for her french kiss dessert.
* She's not giving up. She never gives up. This is her superpower.*
"Nana, we can't—"
"Why NOT?!" She looked genuinely confused. "You kiss me at HOME! Why not HERE?!"
*Logic. Terrible, innocent logic. She doesn't understand public vs private kissing context.*
Her father was GRINNING. "Maybe you two should just... go back to the bedroom?"
...
He SUGGESTED it. My father-in-law just suggested I take his daughter to the bedroom for kissing. I'm. This is. What.*
Her mother nodded, smiling. "Yes! You young people need... privacy."
*They're SENDING us to the bedroom. ENCOURAGING it. What is HAPPENING.*
Nana LIT UP. "YES! BEDROOM! FRENCH KISS IN BEDROOM!"
She grabbed his hand, DRAGGING him from the dining room.
* I'm being dragged to the bedroom by my wife while her parents WAVE. This is the most surreal morning of my life.*
The moment the door closed, Zayne turned to face her.
"Nana."
"Yes, husband?" She blinked innocently.
"You CANNOT ask for French kisses at the breakfast table in front of your parents—"
"But I WANTED—"
"And you ESPECIALLY can't climb in my lap and advertise your macaron-flavored tongue—"
"But it WAS macaron flavor—"
"NANA." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "We need to discuss appropriate public behavior—"
She POUTED. The ULTIMATE pout. Lower lip trembling. Eyes getting wet.
* The pout. The nuclear option. She's deploying EVERYTHING.*
"Are you MAD at me?" she whispered.
* Mad? No. Embarrassed? Yes. Suffering? Absolutely. But mad? Never.*
"I'm not mad. But you need consequences for inappropriate breakfast behavior."
Her eyes went WIDE. "Consequences?"
"Flamingo punishment. Five minutes."
"FIVE MINUTES?!"
"You tried to french kiss me at breakfast. In front of your CEO father. Five minutes is MERCIFUL."
*Merciful. I'm being merciful. I should make it TEN minutes for the macaron tongue display.*
She huffed but stood on one leg obediently, arms out for balance.
*She's doing it. Actually doing the punishment. Character growth. Or she knows I'll fold eventually.*
He sat on the bed, watching her wobble.
"This is MEAN," she complained.
"This is educational."
*Educational punishment. My specialty.*
After exactly five minutes—he timed it—he said, "Done."
She TACKLED him immediately.
One second he was sitting upright. The next, she'd LAUNCHED herself at him, knocking him flat on the bed.
* Tackled. Again. This woman's favorite attack method.*
She was on top of him, grinning, and—
She opened her mouth. Slightly.
Showing him her tongue.
*She's. She's SHOWING me her tongue. Deliberately. This is. This is SEDUCTION. My innocent wife learned SEDUCTION.*
His eyes went DARK.
*Dark. Dangerous. She doesn't know what she's started.*
"You want a French kiss?" His voice had dropped, rough and low.
She nodded frantically.
He slid his thumb into her mouth—slowly, deliberately—pressing down on her tongue.
*Thumb in her mouth. Testing. Teasing. She's going to—*
She SUCKED on it.
* Oh. Oh no. She's sucking my thumb like— like it's— I'm going to— FUCK.*
He nearly cursed out loud, restraining himself.
*She learned this. From MINA probably. Or instinct. Either way it's devastatingly effective.*
He pulled his thumb out, then captured her mouth with his—hard, demanding, tongue sweeping inside to taste the macaron flavor she'd advertised.
* Raspberry macaron. She was RIGHT. Her mouth DOES taste sweet.*
She whimpered into the kiss, melting against him.
*That sound. Her sounds. My favorite sound in the entire world.*
The french kiss escalated—hands wandering, clothes being removed, breath getting heavier.
"Zayne—" she gasped, "—want you—"
*She wants me. Here. NOW. In her parents' house. In DAYLIGHT. This is. We're doing this. Apparently we're doing this.*
"Your parents—"
"They TOLD us to come here!"
*She's right. They DID. They enabled this. This is technically THEIR fault.*
He flipped them over, hovering above her on the tiny bed.
"We have to be QUIET," he reminded her. "Even quieter than last night."
"I'll be SO quiet!" she promised.
*She's never been quiet. This is false advertising. But I'm too far gone to care.*
He entered her slowly, watching her face for every reaction.
* Second time in this bed. In her childhood room. I'm a terrible person. The worst person. But she's looking at me like THAT so.*
"Quiet," he reminded her as he started moving. "Not a sound."
She bit her lip, nodding frantically.
* She's trying. Actually trying. This is. Impressive restraint for her.*
He increased his pace, angling to hit deeper, and she WHIMPERED—loud.
He covered her mouth with his hand immediately. "What did I say?"
"Mmmphhh!" She nodded against his palm.
* She's failing. Already failing. Five seconds in. New record for fastest failure.*
He kept his hand over her mouth, moving faster now, chasing both their pleasure.
"So good," he murmured against her ear. "Being so quiet for me. Even though you want to scream."
Whimper.
"That's it. Take it. All of it."
*Dirty talk while hand-gagging my wife in her childhood bedroom. This is peak degradation. Or peak devotion. Both. Definitely both.*
He could feel her tightening—close, so close.
His free hand slipped between them, finding her clit, circling with precision.
Her eyes went WIDE, body trembling.
"Come for me," he commanded quietly. "Quietly."
She SHATTERED, screaming into his palm, body clenching around him in waves.
The sensation dragged him over. He thrust deep one final time and came with a groan, muffled against her neck.
They collapsed together, panting, sweaty, completely WRECKED.
*We did it again. In her parents' house. In DAYLIGHT. While they're DOWNSTAIRS. I'm going to hell. Express elevator. First class ticket.*
9:47 AM - Downstairs, Living Room.
Wang Tao sat with his wife, drinking tea, trying VERY HARD not to acknowledge the sounds from upstairs.
"The... bedroom door is quite thin," his wife observed delicately.
"I hear NOTHING," he said firmly. "Absolutely NOTHING."
"But you can clearly hear—"
"NOTHING. I hear the birds. The wind. Very lovely weather sounds."
Crash from upstairs. Something fell off the nightstand.
"Very... aggressive... birds," his wife said, lips twitching.
Wang Tao took a LARGE gulp of tea. "Our daughter is happy. That's what matters."
"Very happy, it seems."
"VERY happy. Zayne is a good husband."
"A VERY attentive husband."
*Stop talking. Please stop talking. My baby girl is NOT doing THAT upstairs. She's. Reading. Reading BOOKS. Very enthusiastically.*
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They lay tangled in the tiny bed, both completely exhausted.
"That was..." Nana breathed, "...even BETTER than last night..."
"We need to stop doing this in your parents' house."
"But they TOLD us to come here!"
*She's right. They enabled this. This is their fault. I'm blaming the parents.*
"They meant for KISSING. Not... everything else."
"But french kissing leads to EVERYTHING else!"
* Also true. Accurate cause-effect assessment. She's learning.*
She snuggled into his chest. "Can we do it again tonight?"
"We're going HOME tonight. To OUR bed. Our NORMAL-SIZED bed."
"But the tiny bed makes us CLOSER—"
"The tiny bed makes my BACK hurt."
She giggled, then went serious. "Zayne?"
"Mm?"
"Am I too bold? Too much?"
*Too bold? She's PERFECTLY bold. Exactly the right amount of bold for me.*
He cupped her face. "You're perfect. Exactly as you are."
"Even when I ask for kiss dessert at breakfast?"
"Especially then."
She BEAMED, kissing him softly.
*She's happy. That's all that matters. Even if it means my dignity lives on Saturn now.*
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too, hamster. Even when you traumatize your parents with breakfast demands."
She GIGGLED. "They think we're funny!"
"They think WE'RE insane."
"Same thing!"
*Probably true. Insanity and humor are closely related in the Wang-Li household.*
*Internal Zayne: Sigh #883. But smiling. (#38.)*
Meanwhile - Downstairs
Wang Tao's phone rang. It was his brother.
"How's the young couple?" his brother asked cheerfully.
Wang Tao looked at the ceiling, where SILENCE had finally fallen.
"Happy," he said simply. "Very, very happy."
"Good! Family happiness is important!"
"Yes. Very important. Also I need to renovate the guest rooms. For soundproofing."
"...Soundproofing?"
"DON'T ASK."
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Mr. Fluffytail had set up surveillance at the mansion.
"They did it AGAIN. In DAYLIGHT this time."
Mrs. Fluffytail shook her head. "The humans have zero shame."
"But impressive stamina."
"True. Very impressive."
"Should we tell the mansion squirrels?"
"They ALREADY know. The whole estate knows."
"Fair point."
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To be continued.