Chapter 10: The Guardian’s Oath
The wooden room in Ta Xua was dark, the night was late. The electric heater was not enough to fight the biting cold. The wind whistled through the cracks in the wall like a wolf howling, creating eerie, lingering sounds. The weak yellow light of the night light was just enough to draw long, distorted shadows on the wall, like dancing monsters.
Ngan sat curled up on the bed, wrapped in two layers of blankets but still shivering violently, every muscle twitching, her teeth lightly chattering, creating small clicking sounds, like a symphony of weakness. She was really cold, but her shivering was also a wordless invitation, a weakness intentionally exposed, a challenge. Tung sat on the opposite bed, shirtless after showering, revealing a firm, muscular upper body, like a bronze statue. He was not cold. The heat from his body radiated, like a smoldering furnace. He looked at Ngan, in his heart was a fierce struggle between respect for his “sister” and the instinct of an alpha male wanting to protect his mate from the harsh environment, wanting to possess. Tung’s goal was to find a legitimate reason to be near her, to use his own body to warm her, to break the boundary. Ngan is creating a situation where he has no choice but to break the boundary. The promise of innocence is about to confront the naked truth of desire, a war without guns.
Tung stood up, took his thick cotton blanket and covered Ngan with it, the sound of the blanket rustling softly, like a hopeless consolation. But she was still trembling, the sound of her teeth chattering continued, like a refusal of superficial consolation. Helplessness was evident in his eyes. He could not sit still, like a caged animal, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. He took a deep breath, mustering all his courage, his voice hoarse and hesitant, his breathing heavy, like a confession. “You… you’re going to get sick from this cold. Or… how about I come lie down next to you and warm you up? I swear… I’ll just lie down. I won’t do anything.”
Ngan did not answer immediately. She looked up, her eyes sparkling in the yellow light, looking straight into his eyes, a look without challenge, only fragility and waiting, a wordless invitation, full of power, like a queen waiting for obedience. She said nothing, just nodded slightly, the sound of her head rubbing lightly against the pillow, like an absolute approval. It was absolute permission, a wordless invitation, an open door. “Um…”
He walked over, his heart pounding in his chest, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor, like the sound of drums urging him on. He gently lifted the blanket, the sound of the blanket rustling softly, lying down next to her. The moment he lay down, a stream of intense heat radiated from his body, enveloping Ngan, making her shiver slightly, a small “ah” sound came out, like an admission of pleasure. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her whole body into his embrace. It wasn’t a gentle hug. It was a squeeze of envelopment, almost possessive, an assertion of power. Her entire cold, soft body was pressed tightly against his rock-hard, hot chest, a naked fusion. The sound of skin rubbing gently, regularly, the sound of his heart pounding in her ear, strong and decisive, like a declaration. The oath had been made. The boundary had been crossed, and no one wanted to turn back.
Two bodies lay on the same bed, in a seemingly innocent embrace, but in reality it was an instinctive fusion. The air had thickened, no longer a simple protection, but a repression of desire, an invisible pressure squeezing both of them. Their breaths mixed together in the cold air, creating an urgent rhythm, the sound of the wind whistling through the cracks in the wall, the sound of the charcoal crackling in the stove, like a soundtrack for the upcoming explosion, a symphony of desire.
Ngan’s scent rushed into Tung’s nose. The scent of shampoo, shower gel, and a very unique scent of a woman, a primitive scent that was burning him, making every muscle in his body tense. He buried his face in the hollow of her neck, took a deep, longing breath, feeling her pulse quicken under her thin skin, like the beating of a war drum urging. He couldn’t bear it anymore. The oath was thrown into oblivion, the instinct of possession rose, screaming in his chest. He used one hand to lift her chin, his eyes burning in the darkness.
His lips pressed against hers. The kiss was rough, forceful and tasted of despair, of suppressed desire, like a hungry beast pouncing on its prey. It was not an exploration, it was an affirmation, a declaration of sovereignty, a naked possession. His tongue pried open her lips, thrust deep inside, stirring wildly, as if wanting to swallow her whole. The sound of lips touching lips “chut chut” wetly, Ngan’s soft moan “um… um…” in her throat, her two arms wrapped around his neck, squeezing, pulling him closer, as if wanting to merge into one. “I… I… feel so good…”
His hands began to lose patience. The struggle with the layers of clothing began. It was urgent, clumsy and instinctive, a dance of desire. The rough “rustling” of fabric being pulled, the “clicking” of buttons popping open, the “squeaking” of zippers in the darkness, like the sounds of liberation. Under the yellow light, Ngan’s white, soft skin appeared, contrasting fiercely with his tanned skin and bulging muscles, like two opposite poles attracting each other. He froze for a second to admire, a deep “hmm” escaped from his chest, a wordless compliment. “So beautiful… sister…” Her round breasts, with nipples hardened by the cold and stimulation, pressed against his rock-hard chest, feeling each strong beat. The heavy breathing of both of them blended together, the sound of their hearts pounding, like a symphony of desire.
They were completely naked, entwined with each other. His body was like a furnace waiting to burn her, and she, like a moth, was rushing into that fire, the sound of skin rubbing gently and regularly, like a promise of ultimate pleasure.
The white sheets were now crumpled, imprinted with the marks of two naked bodies. The wildness began to be released, not through violence, but through instinctive exploration, a ritual of the flesh. The crackling of the fire in the hearth, the whistling of the wind through the cracks in the walls, all blended together to create a symphony of desire.
Tung pushed Ngan to lie on her back. He looked at her like a believer looking at a holy relic, his eyes full of worship, burning in the darkness. He began a pilgrimage with his mouth and tongue, kissing every inch of her skin, from the hollow of her neck, down to her collarbone, then to her belly, leaving traces of hot saliva. He took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard while using his tongue to roll in circles, making a wet “chut chut” sound, as if tasting a forbidden sweet honey. His other hand kneaded the other breast, feeling the softness and elasticity of the skin, his fingers lightly rubbing the firming areola. Ngan arched her body, her back arched, a soft moan escaped from her throat, a muffled cry, “um… um…”.
He slid down lower, burying his face between her thighs, inhaling the distinctive scent of a woman. He used both hands to gently spread her pink, wet pussy lips apart. The small cave was already sparkling under the firelight, inviting, like a door leading to hell on earth. He began to lick, clumsily at first, then became bolder, like a hungry beast. His tongue plunged deep into the hot cave, then rose up to suck hard on the erect clitoris, creating a wet, urgent, non-stop “chut chut” sound. An electric current ran through Ngan’s body, making her jump. Her voice choked, gasping, “Tung… oh… baby… it feels so good… Don’t stop… lick more…”.
When Ngan almost burst, she used all her strength to push him away and turned him over. “Stay still,” she ordered, her voice hoarse with desire, full of power. His large penis was fully erect, bright red, blue veins bulging out, the tip oozing fluid, a drop of clear fluid, like a promise full of lust. She looked at it for a second then without hesitation, bent down to swallow it whole, like a snake swallowing its prey. Tung roared, a roar of pleasure, “mm… mm…”. Her mouth was warm and wet, enveloping him, her tongue mischievous, licking along the shaft then sucking hard on the tip, creating a wet “chut chut” sound, urgent, non-stop. He had never experienced this before, an extreme pleasure was tormenting him. He gripped the bed sheet tightly, his fingers digging into the fabric, his hips unconsciously moving up and down to the rhythm of her sucking, trying to restrain himself from coming immediately, but his mind was already starting to fall apart.