20.

warning: 🔞

"It depends on what I'm free for," he replied cheerfully. And when I explained why I was calling, he readily agreed.

"Wait there. Fifteen minutes." That was Chen's last sentence after I sent him my location. Luckily, there was a 24-hour Dunkin' and Baskin-Robbins nearby, so I didn't have to spend those fifteen minutes waiting on the street.

Because my phone had completely died, I didn't check the time. I just sat, propped my chin on my hand, and sipped my Blue Raspberry while letting my mind wander. Before long, Chen pushed open the shop door, a wide smile on his face. His tall, slender figure was in his usual simple style: a white crew-neck t-shirt, a red hooded Adidas jacket, slightly faded jeans, and white sneakers.

"How did you end up here?" Chen sat down opposite me. "Lucky I was just hanging out
here."

"Um, I was at Anwar's friend's gallery."

Chen raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the chair. "You were with Anwar? Where is he now?"

"Anwar has a... date. So it's just me now, and I didn't want to go home, so I called you."

The other person nodded, silently watching me finish the almost-flavorless drink before gesturing towards the outside. "Then let's go. Blue, where do you want to go?"

"I don't know. I don't know many places around here," I leaned forward. "But I just want to sit and drink...chill out."

"Then let's buy some drinks, listen to music, or watch a movie. Okay?" Chen offered, and it didn't sound bad at all. I didn't really need a lot of excitement; I was just a bit lonely and didn't want to go home alone, so I was looking for company.

"Where?"

"You choose. My house or my apartment...but my house is closer, both from here and from your place."

"Won't your parents mind us drinking at your house?"

"No. Some of their friends are visiting the restaurant. They're probably still cooking and chatting there." He stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So, where do you want to go, Blue?"

I thought back to walking home from Chen's apartment alone that time. It wasn't a pleasant experience, and I didn't want to risk a repeat anytime soon.

"Let's go to your house, then."

Outside the shop, a large, sleek black BMW motorcycle was parked. I stared at Chen as he walked towards it. Wow. It seems everyone here is rich. Even Chen, who I often see taking the bus, has a fancy motorcycle like this.

"You okay to ride? You're not too drunk, are you?" Chen asked, turning back after I got on the back.

"Yeah, yeah...shit..." I grabbed the helmet, putting it on and instinctively placing my hands on his back. My heart sank to my feet. I almost fell backwards because there weren't the usual handholds.

"Are you alright?" A surprised exclamation escaped me as my hands instinctively grabbed onto him. Chen laughed, shaking his head slightly before focusing on the road. "I'll drive slowly."

"Um.."

He really did drive slowly. Even though the bike looked incredibly powerful, Chen handled it with an incredibly smooth touch. I enjoyed the ride and wished it could have lasted longer.

The cool breeze on my face, the night view, and the quiet helped me momentarily forget my worries. We didn't talk the whole way, but after only a few minutes, the luxurious motorcycle slowed to a stop in front of a five-story cream-colored apartment building.

Inside, the living room felt warm and inviting. The wooden floors and cream-colored walls contrasted nicely with the exposed brick in some areas. Cream-colored sofas and a fluffy cream-colored rug completed the picture. Chen went to the kitchen and grabbed three or four beers while I sank onto the sofa.
"Here," he opened a bottle with a lighter and offered it to me.

"Thanks."

"What should we watch?" He flipped through the channels, raising his beer to his lips with his other hand.

"Whatever you want, Chen," I smiled, settling comfortably onto the sofa and propping my feet up. Since moving here, I'd gotten used to wearing shoes everywhere indoors, but at Chen's house—perhaps because it's a traditionally Thai home—he asked me to take my shoes off before we even reached the front door. "Or we could listen to music. I'm a little dazed, and I don't feel like reading subtitles."

"Okay, tell me what you want to hear." As soon as I finished speaking, Chen switched to YouTube and started typing "Arctic Monkeys." Since I didn't specify anything, he chose that.

The low bass and drums filled the room, the music softening as we turned to face each
other.

Chen grabbed a cigarette and put it in his mouth, raising an eyebrow slightly as he saw me reach for mine.

"Like it cool?" he asked, the click of his lighter audible before he extended his hand to light mine.

"Yeah...can we smoke here?" I asked, uncertainly, even though I noticed an ashtray on the wooden table in front of us.
"Everyone smokes here. My dad, my mom...and me, too."

Chen took a few deep drags of his cigarette, then exhaled. He frowned, before grinding it out in the ashtray, even though it wasn't even half-smoked. Seeing my questioning expression, he answered without me even having to ask.

"I'm trying to cut back."

"That explains it...at your place, I only saw you smoke a little."

"Yeah, I felt like I was smoking too much for a while, so I wanted to try cutting down," Chen leaned his cheek against the sofa, his dark eyes looking up at me. "It would be great if I could quit altogether."

"Is it hard to quit smoking?" I looked down at the end of my cigarette. Though I'd often
wondered about that, I'd never seriously sought an answer. I figured I wasn't addicted, and probably wouldn't be. I didn't plan on smoking frequently anyway; I just bought them to try something different.

I wondered if that was too dangerous a thought. It was scary to think I might accidentally become addicted without realizing it.

"It's pretty hard. I haven't managed it yet, even though I've tried many times," Chen laughed.

"The closest I came to quitting was when my girlfriend asked me to."

I was surprised, about to ask if Chen had a girlfriend, when Chen quickly continued.
"But then I got dumped, so I started smoking like crazy again," he laughed, shaking his head slightly at the memory. "I almost had good health."

"You, Chen? Got dumped?" I asked. "Who would dare dump a guy who cooks that well?"

"Wow, thanks," Chen raised his beer bottle for a toast.

"How long ago?"

"Four or five months now," Chen mused. "But honestly, I understand. I'm very attached to my friends, and she just couldn't get along with them."

"Rome and Alice?"

Chen nodded slightly, taking another large gulp of beer before putting it down. "Yeah, it was like their personalities clashed. I share an apartment with Rome, and the others always hang out there. I couldn't avoid having them around almost all the time."

"That's a shame," I only ever had one boyfriend, P'Phim, and he never tried to get close to my friends either. Perhaps because our relationship was a secret.

I didn't know how Chen or his ex felt about this issue, but the reason I said it was a shame was because Chen seemed like a very patient guy, the type who would do anything for someone.

"Didn't you talk it out?"

Chen offered a small, wry smile at that question. "We did. I asked her what she wanted, and she said she wanted me to spend more time with her. By 'more,' she meant all my time. I couldn't give up my friends, I couldn't be with her all the time. I tried, but...I don't know, it just didn't work out. Was I a little sad? Yeah, probably."

"..." Chen turned to stare at the TV screen on the wall, which was playing a black-and-white music video. His expression revealed nothing, even as a small, lingering smile played on his lips.

From what he said, I understood a certain feeling, a subtle feeling I picked up from his story...because it was the same feeling in my relationship with P'Phim.

"It would be nice to meet someone who's willing to adjust along with you," I said.

The struggle of trying in a relationship, all on your own...

"Yeah," Chen agreed.

"Thanks a lot, Chen, for coming to get me and driving me home," I said, sliding off his large motorcycle. I took off my helmet and handed it back. We went back to Chen's house, but because we were busy talking, drinking beer, and listening to music, I forgot to get my phone out to charge.

"No problem. I had some free time," he replied.

But it was very late; no one would be contacting me at this hour anyway.

We stayed there for a long time, until Chen's mother even came home. It took her less than five minutes to persuade me to join them for dinner at a restaurant next week.
"You said no one was home," Chen said, nodding subtly towards the second floor, where light shone through a window.

"Maybe they forgot to turn off the lights before leaving."

"So, will you actually go to dinner with my mom next Saturday?"

"Your mom's so insistent, I guess I have to go. I'll eat until I burst," I playfully threatened, laughing when Chen shook his head slightly.

"Go ahead. Eat so much they won't dare invite anyone else for a meal again!"

I smiled, watching Chen nod in farewell before turning to walk into the house. I didn't forget to glance back at him one last time. "See you. Thanks again for today."

After Chen told me about his ex-girlfriend, after a while I started to mention P'Phim. I kept it general, without going into much detail, but Chen immediately frowned when he heard that P'Phim had someone else while dating me. He didn't seem to like that kind of thing—infidelity, cheating. "He didn't respect you at all," was the only thing Chen blurted out.

I slowly exhaled, dragging myself upstairs. A dizzying feeling lingered on my tongue and in my head. Though I could still speak and walk straight, I knew I wasn't myself. This kind of dizziness… I didn't know if it would help me sleep better or keep me awake.

My racing thoughts stopped when I discovered why all the lights were on. A tall figure in fresh clothes indicated he'd already showered. A black t-shirt and soft pants—he had tons of the same color. Anwar glanced at me; a cigarette still hung from his lips before he looked at the wall clock.

The silence from him prompted me to approach. Seeing his handsome, stoic face, I felt I needed to do something, even though I didn't know what.

I lightly touched his broad shoulder. "Can I have one...?" When he nodded, I reached out, taking the cigarette from his lips and placing it between my own. "I thought you weren't coming back tonight."

"Why would you think that?"

I raised an eyebrow. Feeling thirsty, I turned towards the counter, aware of his gaze following my back, even when I didn't answer his question and opted to pour myself a drink instead.

"Where have you been?" Anwar fired back, rising to follow me.

"I left the gallery and went for more drinks," I mumbled, turning to meet Anwar's eyes as he moved closer. "With Chen."

For a second, I saw irritation flash across his face, his brows furrowing. But the next blink, it was gone, as if it never happened.

"Oh..." He hoisted me onto the bar stool, his tall frame settling between my legs.

"And what should I do then...? I just went to wash my face for a second, and when I came back you were gone. Your phone was unreachable. I didn't find you at home." He placed both hands on the bar, confining me within his strong arms as he leaned closer.

"I wanted to have more drinks, and my phone died," I retorted softly, feeling small, like a child being scolded, when in reality, it was him.

Anwar was the one who had a meeting with someone else. What status was he supposed to keep me in, sitting there? And for what?

"I'm not saying anything about you wanting more drinks," Anwar shook his head. "But what I'm asking is, why did you go with Chen? Why didn't you come find me?"

I faltered. My mind spun, trying to find an answer he'd find acceptable. But because of the alcohol, and the closeness between us now, I couldn't think of a single thing. All I felt was my heart pounding heavily.

Anwar's expression and sharp tone made me want to reach out and tug on his shirt instead of trying to appease him. It's a childish way I've always done when I accidentally angered my mother.

"Don't you want to drink with me?"

"No, that's not it," I quickly argued. "You had a meeting with Kit, didn't you?"

"No," Anwar's denial stopped me in my tracks. "You were with me. How could I leave with someone else?"

"But Kit said..."

"Just because someone else said that, you left me there and went drinking with Chen
instead?"

I didn't answer. At that moment, I was sure of several things. I was annoyed that Kit had spoken to me in such a dismissive way, but that annoyance was suppressed because Kit and Anwar's relationship was more significant than what Anwar and I shared. Regardless, if they had actually made plans, I was the one who should have backed down. But hearing Anwar say that, the blame fell squarely on me—especially for leaving him without clarifying things and running off, even if it was due to a mix of emotions at the time.

"Are you angry?" I softly asked, lowering my head until my chin nearly touched my chest, too afraid to meet his eyes.

But wanting to see his expression as he answered, I inadvertently looked up at him.

"I'm not angry, but I was worried." Anwar's cheeks and neck were still flushed; he'd really had a lot to drink, but he was still coherent, even if his eyes were a little glazed. (He's incredibly stubborn).

After Anwar finished speaking, he fell silent, only his gaze fixed on me, as if waiting to see what I would do next. Seeing this, I shifted slightly. Thank goodness for the alcohol, making everything feel so fluid. I raised my hand to touch his warm cheek.

"I'm sorry for worrying you."

"And where did you go drinking with Chen?"

"At Chen's house," As soon as the words left my mouth, his eyes sparkled. He narrowed his eyes and let out a low chuckle. It was a very strained laugh.

Anwar turned to kiss my hand before pressing close until our bodies touched. His warm lips trailed along my neck, his breath making me tense.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" He murmured a kiss against my skin, caressing me until my heart pounded. "I'm really going to be possessive, you know."

My lips parted. I felt as limp as wax near a flame. When I raised my hand to put it around his broad shoulders, it seemed to only invite him closer.

"Can I be possessive?" he asked huskily, beginning to nibble on my neck.

"You...can't," I shrank my neck, even though my body was melting under his touch, wanting him to continue. But Kit's words and my lingering annoyance kept intruding.

Anwar pulled away, his dark eyebrows raised at my response, prompting me to finish my sentence.

"If I can't be possessive of you, then I won't allow you to be possessive of me either."

"And who told you you can't be possessive?"

"Well,"

"Is it Kit this time, or are you telling yourself that?" I shook my head, tightening my arms around him and resting my forehead on his strong shoulder to avoid his sharp gaze.

"And how can I be possessive? We're nothing." We weren't nothing, exactly. Calling us friends felt too vague; calling us anything else felt wrong. These little intimate touches pushed us beyond the boundaries of friendship, but it wasn't deep enough to pull us into a defined relationship.

It had no name.

And how could I be possessive, or fight others who were more clearly defined?

"Then shall we become something...?" Anwar turned, kissing my ear, his arms tightening around my waist. "So we can be truly possessive of each other."

"..."

"Blue."

"Hmm?" I responded, my heart pounding wildly. I felt his fingers slide into my hair at the nape of my neck.

"Do you want it?"

The question was vague, but I knew exactly what he was asking.

And I wasn't in the mood to refuse. Alcohol and Anwar often went hand in hand. When I had both at the same time, it felt incredibly good.

So good that I unconsciously nodded.

Anwar smiled, gently guiding my face to meet his. His brown eyes peered deeply into mine, as if searching for confirmation.

"B-but I want to shower first, okay?" He nodded slightly, pulling me back into his room. Standing there, gazing at the large bed, memories and reflections I'd seen in the mirror flooded back. I raised a hand to touch my burning cheeks, then trailed it down to the warm skin of my neck.

A soft click of the door lock sounded.

We met eyes before Anwar broke the spell by getting a fresh towel for me.

"Choose a shirt," he said, stepping back to let me approach the closet. He retreated to the bed as I selected a light green long-sleeved shirt and hurried into the bathroom, finally out of his sight.

As soon as the door closed, a mix of excitement and panic washed over me.

I paced like a caged animal, replaying the same unanswered questions in my head.

What should I do? What if I do something strange? Will it be a failure?

I gently bit my lip, deciding to calm myself with a cool shower. The alcohol, which should have made things easier, now left me completely flustered.

What I'd seen online, I had no idea if it would be the same in real life.

I took a deep breath, washing every inch of my body with soap that smelled the same as Anwar's. By the time the swirling thoughts in my head subsided, I'd been standing under the water until my fingertips were wrinkled. I dried myself and put on his oversized shirt, letting it fall to my bare hips and buttocks.

Even though I was numb from the alcohol, I wished I'd had more to drink.

I hesitantly stepped out of the bathroom, into the dim light. Anwar glanced up from his phone, turned off the screen, and tossed it onto the nightstand. He left only one lamp on, the table lamp, which was a huge relief. I would have been a hundred times more embarrassed if everything had been brightly lit.

"Shall we watch a movie?" Feeling awkward, I quickly changed the subject to cover up my embarrassment. As I stepped closer to the bed, Anwar reached out for me, gently pulling me in to lie against him.
"What do you want to watch?"

"Anything." After I responded like that, Anwar paused to think for a moment before starting to open Netflix and selecting an action movie.

In the dark, with his strong arms wrapped around my waist, pressed closely against my back, I feared my heart might beat loudly enough for him to hear, especially with him lowering the volume on Netflix to a whisper-like level.

I didn't know how to approach this situation, unsure of how to make it feel natural. It seemed like Anwar could read my mind; he didn't ask any embarrassing questions this time, allowing me to fix my gaze on the big TV screen with its subtitles. At one point, I felt his warm lips brush against my shoulder, teasingly tugging at my shirt before letting go as if playfully.

I pressed my lips together, exposing my neck for him to explore, my heart racing with each second that his large hand slid under my shirt. He hesitated slightly when he encountered my bare hip, and I heard a soft laugh escape him. Anwar used the tip of his nose to trace around my shoulder, the base of my neck, and my ear while his hand squeezed my stomach and moved up to my ribs.

"Are you really watching the movie?" he casually asked.

"I am trying to," I replied, attempting to control my voice so it wouldn’t tremble.

"Are we being distracted?" Even as he said this, his hands and lips continued to explore, his sharp teeth lightly grazing the back of my neck before releasing when I shook my head.

"Do you like it when I distract you?"

I took a deep breath, feeling as if my mind might explode at any moment. When I dared to lock eyes with him again, I found his expression calm, but there was a glint in his eyes that made me feel inexplicably flustered.

"Like."

Anwar immediately gave a small, wry smile. He leaned down until his nose touched mine.

"So cute."

I don't know if it was the timing, his expression, or his actions, but I didn't think before wrapping my arms around the back of his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Then I opened my mouth, allowing his tongue to intertwine with mine.

It felt like all my previous anxieties dissolved completely. My mind was empty.

There was only my body moving instinctively, and the awareness of his warmth pressed close against me.

Anwar held my face in his hands while kissing me. It felt like he wanted to squeeze me to death, but could only do this much. He nibbled on my lower lip and tried to appear calm.

The TV and the movie completely vanished from my thoughts. When I turned onto my back, Anwar moved to straddle me, seemingly knowing the rhythm. His hands lifted my legs, and wrapped them around his hips, while his lips remained connected to mine.

"Shall we take our clothes off?" he whispered. When I licked my lips, he kissed me softly again. "May I see you undressed?"

I nodded, suppressing my shyness and beginning to comply, my mind a blank slate. The large green sweater was pulled over my head before I let it fall beside me.

Since I was only wearing that one piece of clothing, taking it off revealed my body instantly and completely.

Anwar stared intently at my body, his eyes clearly showing desire. Not waiting for me to lie still and for my self-confidence to melt away, he began to move his face lower, nibbling and kissing me all over my chest and stomach.

"You're so beautiful." His compliment made my heart swell and boosted my courage, even though the praise felt strange; I'd never considered my own body beautiful before.

"Mmm..." I raised my hand to cover my face, feeling flushed all over, especially where his perfectly shaped lips had been. The larger man kneaded my hips repeatedly before making me gasp as his tongue flicked across my chest.

"Ugh!" I arched my back involuntarily, lifting it from the bed. This gave him the opportunity to slide his arm under my back, preventing me from pulling away. With my body held captive as he increased the intensity of his attentions, I started to gasp for breath, letting out a strangled moan.

The kisses were dizzying.

I clutched his shirt tightly. Anwar asked me to take it off for him. Once the black t-shirt was gone, he pressed his strong muscles against my stomach.

"I locked the door," he said. This made me laugh immediately.

When I opened my eyes and met his gaze, I knew he was asking for my final consent.

"Okay," I murmured, then tilted my head up to briefly kiss his lips. "Be gentle with me."

This request brought a slow smile to Anwar's face. He didn't respond verbally, but pressed his lips against mine, deepening the kiss until I felt like I was melting into the bed. He then moved my legs apart, creating some space between us before cupping my most sensitive area and beginning to stroke.

Even the slow, surface movements were almost enough to make me cry out. Seeing this, he raised an eyebrow slightly and squeezed his hand tighter.

"Want to hand in your homework today?" The question came with a gentle smile, at odds with the intense gaze he directed at me. Before I could answer, he flipped me over so I was straddling him.

Up there, I felt clumsy and awkward. I started to lower myself, but his deep voice
interrupted.

"No," he said, halting me. Then came the next instruction: "Turn around."

It was embarrassing... so embarrassing I wanted to explode and escape.

I pursed my lips, turned, and adjusted myself until my face was level with his member. His firm body pressed against mine. I nervously pulled down his pants, my face burning as I imagined the angle Anwar was seeing.

"Ah, uh!" As soon as I opened my mouth to take him, Anwar wrapped his arms around me, pulling me down, mirroring my action.

My awareness was entirely focused there. I tried to do it better than before, but Anwar was too skilled, and he was pushing me to the edge of sanity—making me lose control and open my mouth completely.

When I moved my hips involuntarily to get away, he slapped my ass hard, like punishment, then shifted his focus to a different point.

"Oh, please," I shook my head, pressing my forehead against his warm skin, twisting away, my chest pressed against his lower abdomen. "An...Anwar, ugh!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, my legs trembling as I tensed and pushed inside.

This was maddening.

Anwar knew when to be slow, when to accelerate, when to be gentle and when to be forceful. He seemed to perfectly control the rhythm, leaving me unable to control anything, not even my own breathing.

"I want to kiss you," I pleaded, and he responded almost instantly by pushing me forward, straddling me before pulling my hips down onto his strong lap.

His warm lips crushed against mine with urgency as I leaned into him. I felt him release a breath, as if regaining his composure, as his large hand gripped the base of my thigh and kneaded it.

"Let me have you," he murmured, pulling his lips away to bite and then suck on my neck.

"Mmm," I nodded, my response a low sound, as if I'd forgotten how to speak.
Anwar smirked, pushing me back onto the bed, then leaned over to grab a condom from the nightstand. He kicked his pants off and returned to me.

"Put it on for me," he offered the condom, looking amused at my clumsy movements. "Use the other end."

My hands trembled. Even in the dim light, I could clearly see how large he was. I'd taken him in my mouth before, but the thought of it entering me now made me nervous.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" He looked at me intently, waiting for my nod before pressing against me, starting to apply lubricant. "And tell me if you don't like something. Don't keep it to yourself."

"And if I do like it?"

Anwar raised an eyebrow, a predatory glint flashing in his eyes before he spread my legs. "Then moan loudly and tell me to do it again."

I took a deep breath. Anwar lifted my hips. The cool lubricant was applied liberally, both to my body and to my entrance. It seemed like he used a lot of it.

I stared into his handsome face, watching his beautiful eyes drop to look down. I saw him purse his lips and sigh slowly, repeatedly, as he began to use his slender fingers to stretch me open. His brown eyes glanced up to check my expression periodically, just as I was starting to tense up from excitement and anxiety.

"Blue, don't tense up," he murmured softly, leaving two fingers inside before leaning down to kiss me.

Once our tongues intertwined, I momentarily forgot the sensation below, until Anwar began to move his fingers slowly in and out. Then, I reached for him and hugged him tightly.

It was uncomfortable, not painful exactly, but uncomfortable. I felt the foreign object pressing inside more than anything else. I didn't know how long it had been that Anwar had been working to get my body used to it.

His touch was light and his patience admirable in this moment.

"Uh... Ah..." I raised my hand to cover my mouth, a muffled moan escaping as Anwar began to move his hand faster. A strange emptiness in my stomach attacked me, leaving my legs weak.

Only when he withdrew his hand did I realize I had been holding my breath. "Baby, open your legs for me," he said, pressing one hand to the bed while the other held his shaft close to my entrance. It seemed he sensed my anxiety, because he leaned in for another kiss.

I heard the slurping sound of lips mixed with gunshots from the movie.

"Ahh... Ugh!" I gasped, my eyes wide as I felt his hardness press inside. "Oh, you... it... it..." I struggled to find words to describe the feeling. Anything closer than "uncomfortable." It hurt, but it was a bearable hurt.

"Fuck," he muttered, his eyes squeezed shut, his forehead pressed against the damp nape of my neck. His core slowly pushed inside, without forcing. The deeper he went, the more my legs trembled uncontrollably, as did the rest of my body.

"Does it hurt?" he whispered, turning his head to gently tug at my earlobe.

"N-no... but it's uncomfortable... uh," I made a grimace, looking up at his tall figure as he pulled back. He clasped my hips and began to move in and out slowly, even though he
wasn't fully inside yet. It shifted the lingering discomfort into something else.

"Ah!"

I arched my back. An unfamiliar sensation surged through me. My nails dug into his strong arms. Anwar moaned softly in his throat.

He frowned, pulling my legs up high towards his chest before thrusting in fully.

"Oh God, you, you," I cried out incoherently as his strong body moved faster and faster. My entire body swayed with the forceful thrusts; my limbs weak and trembling, I had to clutch at his broad shoulders, my head swimming in a white blur, oblivious to everything except the thick core moving inside me.

As the discomfort faded, intense pleasure overwhelmed everything.

"Mmm," he gritted his teeth, slowing the rhythm before thrusting deeply again, making the bed rock. He pushed me against the bed, then pulled my legs up to rest on his strong shoulders.

"Ah... ah... Ugh," I dug my fingers into his firm stomach. My soft moans grew louder,
escalating in intensity, mirroring his pace.
Anwar gritted his teeth so hard his jawline tensed. He drove inside with one powerful thrust that made me gasp, before pulling me up to kiss him. Our tongues tangled as we gasped for breath. His hot tongue traced the nape of my neck and my collarbone. He held me firmly as he continued to thrust, stealing my moans and breath with each stroke.

"Ahh! Ah!"

I'd never known sex could feel like this—a feeling of complete fulfillment, of being embraced and cherished, the intense thrusts that silenced all other thoughts.
My face flushed as I lifted my head to curiously look down; he teasingly changed the rhythm, his hips moving in and out with a slow, smooth motion that made me blush.

Then, he started pounding hard, leaving me weak and breathless.

A small smile played on his perfectly shaped lips. "Which do you prefer?"

"...Both."

Anwar chuckled softly, his face taking on a fierce look I'd never seen before. "You can't
choose?"

I bit my lower lip, refusing to answer, burying my face in the rumpled sheets. He followed, seeking an answer from my mouth. One of his hands found my nipple.

"If you can't choose, how about we do both until you decide?" he whispered hoarsely, circling his hips, making my body tense in anticipation.

"Ah!"

"I've let you go several times already. We're not finishing this easily tonight."

"Oh! Ahh!" He moved faster and faster. I gritted my teeth, a tingling sensation bringing tears to my eyes. Just as I felt myself nearing climax, Anwar slowed down, teasing me, making me decide which rhythm I truly preferred.

Even when I answered randomly, he switched back to the other style.

"Don't you like this one?"

"Ah... ahh..." As soon as tears fell onto my cheek, Anwar stopped. He pulled me into a tight embrace, kissing my temple hard, where sweat beaded.

"Why are you crying?"

I pressed my lips together, initially refusing to answer. Anwar slowly stroked my bare back.

"Why are you crying, huh?"

"You... you're teasing me."

"Did you not enjoy it?" I quickly shook my head because it was the opposite.

"Because it felt good. It was...too intense." When I confessed that, he let out a tense smile.

"Blue," Anwar murmured deeply, before forcefully pushing me over, pulling me onto my stomach. His strong body followed, pressing down until there was barely any space between us.

"If we don't sleep tonight, remember it's your own fault."