Ten minutes is enough

The next day.

Thin sunlight slipped through the curtain gap, carrying the morning’s cool sea breeze, sneaking inside.

The phone on the nightstand buzzed incessantly, relentless.

The woman, her brow half-hidden by messy hair, stirred, her eyelids trembling, brows knitting.

The fluffy puppy curled in her arms reacted more, burrowing deeper half-asleep, trying to block the noise.

Not fully awake, the older woman instinctively covered the other’s ears, her other hand groping for the sound’s source.

Soon, the persistent call connected. Li Zi’s voice, urgent, burst through: “Sis, you up? It’s seven-thirty already.”

She continued, “We agreed with them yesterday—eight-thirty for fitting and styling, eleven for a brand interview…”

The assistant rattled off the day’s schedule like a robot.

Liu Tingsong’s furrowed brow eased, but her expression didn’t soften, sleepiness replaced by sharp clarity.

“Sis, you awake?” Li Zi asked again. “Should I order breakfast?”

Normally, in a presidential suite, Li Zi would stay in the secondary bedroom to tend to Liu Tingsong. But this time, the brand’s original room was a step down, with Li Zi next door. When Xu Fengluan arrived, Liu Tingsong upgraded the room, and Li Zi tactfully stayed put.

So, this morning was trickier, requiring call after call.

Li Zi waited, asking again, “Sis, you up?”

The figure in her arms stirred, her fluffy head nuzzling into Liu Tingsong’s shoulder, then burrowing lower, indulging even in sleep.

The hand cradling her head stroked soothingly.

Liu Tingsong’s half-open eyes fell on the person in her arms, her not-quite-awake gaze softening.

She paused, then said, “I’m up…”

Her words cut off as she pursed her lips, startled by her hoarse voice despite expecting it.

Thankfully, Li Zi didn’t overthink, assuming it was from just waking, and repeated her question.

Liu Tingsong cleared her throat, saying, “No need.”

Li Zi agreed, suggesting she drink warm water.

Liu Tingsong ignored her, hanging up.

Looking at the culprit, she marveled at Xu Fengluan’s shamelessness. After last night’s relentless torment, she felt no guilt, now boldly nestled in her arms, demanding to be held.

Little ancestor.

The phrase flashed in Liu Tingsong’s mind, meant as a complaint, but her lips curved slightly. Her free hand shielded Xu Fengluan’s eyes from the sneaking sunlight, while her other hand wove through her hair, restless.

The one displeased by the talking softened, but her grip on Liu Tingsong didn’t loosen.

Her childlike sleeping posture was domineering—arms tight around Liu Tingsong’s waist, a leg wedged between hers, head buried below her collarbone, like a kid in her mother’s arms, yet trapping Liu Tingsong completely.

Her thoughts lingered here, but Liu Tingsong didn’t shy away.

No matter how naughty Xu Fengluan was, it took Liu Tingsong’s indulgence. Maintaining such a position all night? One person alone couldn’t—both had to want it.

Xu Fengluan’s messy hair obscured her face, especially buried in Liu Tingsong’s chest, leaving only half visible. Without her usual edge, she looked tender.

Despite staring at a familiar face, Liu Tingsong gazed long, as if etching every detail into her heart, even the fine lines of her lips.

Even after last night’s ordeal, she couldn’t muster anger. Leaning down, she kissed Xu Fengluan’s forehead, murmuring, “Bad thing.”

Trouble loomed—her schedule was packed, her voice hoarse, and kiss marks littered her collarbone. Anyone could guess what happened. The only relief was Xu Fengluan’s restraint, avoiding the obvious neck.

Liu Tingsong tugged her hair, saying, “Bad dog.”

As sleep faded, soreness in her waist and legs surged, every part screaming exhaustion.

Xu Fengluan’s response was to tighten her arms, pressing their bodies closer, eliminating any gap, bare skin clinging together.

Liu Tingsong’s breathing hitched, but she didn’t resist, letting her have her way.

The waves outside crashed noisily, salty air seeping in. The bedding slid down in the tussle, but Xu Fengluan ignored it, focused on holding her. After five or six minutes, she slowly loosened her grip under Liu Tingsong’s gentle pats.

Before Liu Tingsong could catch her breath, Xu Fengluan nuzzled again, saying, “Morning, Tingsong.”

“Morning, baby,” Liu Tingsong replied, making up for yesterday.

Before she could say more, Xu Fengluan accused, “You just stole a kiss.”

The sudden complaint stirred trouble.

She looked up, eyes gleaming, like a puppy ready to pounce.

“Make it up to me,” she said.

“How?” Liu Tingsong’s expression was lazy, her voice hoarse, indulging the game, adding, “I’ve got work soon.”

Wasn’t that a rejection?

Xu Fengluan pouted, leaning up to kiss her lips hard before pulling back. But the hand on her head pressed her back, lips meeting again. Liu Tingsong deepened the kiss.

Their lips brushed lightly, then pressed closer, no longer urgent like before, now leisurely, like a sated chase game.

Red lips glistened, lightly teased.

Liu Tingsong chuckled, “Now it’s an open kiss.”

Xu Fengluan bit her lip, her hand on Liu Tingsong’s waist sliding lower, but Liu Tingsong caught it, guiding it back, saying warmly, “Rub here.”

Xu Fengluan acted tough, huffing, but complied, knowing she caused this, obediently rubbing.

Breaths mingled, pecks turning deep, calloused fingers grazing soft skin.

A breath hitched, and Liu Tingsong tilted her head to pull away, but Xu Fengluan followed, her leg brushing against her, eliciting a muffled “mm.”

The once-obedient puppy, sensing something, kept her leg there, circling lightly.

Liu Tingsong’s breathing grew heavy, reaching for her wrist.

Xu Fengluan didn’t stop, her eyes darkening, silently mouthing two words.

Liu Tingsong read her lips easily.

Wet.

Her ears reddened, her grip weakening.

“Don’t… I’ve got work,” she struggled, panting, clinging to reason.

“What time?” Xu Fengluan didn’t stop, her knee soaked, unwilling to give up.

“Eight-thirty,” Liu Tingsong answered honestly.

Xu Fengluan grabbed the phone, squinting, her voice hoarse, “Fifty minutes left. Forty for shower and clothes.” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Her blunt words exposed Liu Tingsong’s vulnerability.

She glared, but her desire-soaked eyes held no threat, more like an invitation.

“It hurts…” she mumbled.

Last night’s excess lingered, the ointment not fully easing the swelling.

Xu Fengluan, realizing, loosened her leg and slipped under the covers.

Outside, the morning brightened, sunrise-watchers dispersing, laughter faint, grounding the morning.

The phone screen lit up and dimmed—likely Li Zi’s messages—but no one cared, no time to care.

The covers bulged, bent legs trying to close, only to be caught by the ankles, draped over shoulders. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Breathing grew heavier, long fingers clutching the pillow’s edge, wrinkling and releasing it repeatedly, finally gripping tight, knuckles whitening, veins rising.

Her arched jaw tensed, the pulse in her swan-like neck visible, gasps spilling from parted lips like a fish out of water, sweat beading.

The thin blanket slid further, exposing a straight collarbone and the curve below, half-covered by fingers, soft flesh spilling, old marks joined by new.

“Don’t… don’t,” Liu Tingsong gasped, reaching down, trying to push her head, her urgent words breaking through, “Don’t… don’t suck.”

But the one under the covers didn’t hear—or wouldn’t listen. Obey now? Impossible.

Faint wet sounds rose, her hand in the messy hair, torn between stopping and urging her on.

Eleven minutes later, Xu Fengluan threw off the covers, her lips and cheeks wet, like she’d washed her face without drying.

Liu Tingsong collapsed, her waist trembling with each heavy breath, utterly spent. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Xu Fengluan smiled, scooping her up and heading to the bathroom.

Liu Tingsong let her, only covering Xu Fengluan’s mouth when she absentmindedly licked her lips.

“Dirty thing,” she scolded, flustered.

Xu Fengluan just glanced at her, saying nothing.

Soon, the bathroom echoed with sounds, the traces on Xu Fengluan’s lips and cheeks licked clean by another, brief whimpers fading.

At eight-thirty, Xu Fengluan supported Liu Tingsong downstairs.

At the destination, Liu Tingsong and Li Zi left first. In the nanny van, Xu Fengluan opened her phone, ignoring messages from Li Jianbai and others, opening a delivery app to order honey water, throat lozenges, and more.

Half an hour later, a cap-and-glasses-wearing assistant with white hair appeared in the studio.

The sidelined Li Zi stood quietly, biting into a sandwich the new assistant bought for her.