The Extravagant Alpha And The Cold Movie Queen’s Fake Act Became Real - Chapter 40

Chapter 40: This Isn’t a Slap, It’s Sister’s Reward

Fu Ru’an’s voice carried a soft, delicate charm, like a fluffy kitten kneading its tiny paws against one’s heart, tickling it unbearably.

What kind of question…

What did she mean by “where is it pink”…

How could Sister Fu ask something like that?

How was she supposed to answer?

The candlelight cast a warm, amber glow over their faces. Following the light, Ruan Siyi’s gaze slipped between the gap of the blanket and Fu Ru’an’s sharp collarbones, only to see a hazy outline—like snow-covered hills.

An involuntary thirst rose in her throat, and she instinctively licked her lips. But in the next moment, her hand was suddenly seized by Fu Ru’an.

Before she could react, Fu Ru’an’s cool fingers enveloped hers, guiding her touch. A chill and a softness spread from her fingertips.

“Ruan Ruan, why aren’t you answering me?”

Fu Ru’an couldn’t resist biting her earlobe again.

Ruan Siyi’s earlobe was quite different from her usual demeanor—it was small and delicate, attached to her round ear, giving off a somewhat childish charm.

It was a shape Fu Ru’an adored.

She clicked her tongue, pressing her neat front teeth slowly against the thin skin of Ruan Siyi’s earlobe. The edges of her teeth grazed the soft cartilage of the ear, and because her mouth was slightly open, her wet tongue occasionally flicked against the earlobe, leaving it damp and glistening under the dim candlelight.

“Answer me quickly—”

“Ruan Siyi.”

She called her name again, but Ruan Siyi could only respond with a hurried, breathless “Hmm?” from her nose.

The consequence of such a careless reply was obvious.

—Her consciousness was instantly overwhelmed by an exquisite sensation, the softness and heat of the touch surging like a scorching tide straight to her mind. Fu Ru’an’s slender fingers carried a hint of coolness, yet somehow, they seemed to ignite a burning warmth, scattering Ruan Siyi’s breath into this suffocating, blank whiteness.

The moment her fingertip pressed down, that expanse of snowy white seemed to bloom slowly in her palm, like a fragile yet bold white flower, collapsing into smooth curves under the pressure of her touch.

“Is it here?”

Outside the window, the thunderstorm showed no sign of letting up, roaring and howling over and over again. In the distant mountains, tender pink bamboo shoots seemed to have been startled awake by the thunder and lightning, trembling as they peeked out, curiously observing the world.

Ruan Siyi’s hair was almost completely drenched, dampened by winding trails of sweat, hanging in strands and clumps over her forehead-like a little puppy caught in the rain, its fur dripping wet.

She lowered her head, her gaze lingering over Fu Ru’an’s delicate features, her palm even slick with a thin layer of nervous sweat.

Yet she stubbornly pressed her lips to Fu Ru’an’s brow.

The instant her soft lips lightly touched the space between Fu Ru’an’s eyebrows, it felt as if her breath had been stolen away, leaving only the pounding of her heartbeat roaring in her ears, throbbing against her eardrums. Fu Ru’an’s eyebrows trembled faintly, carrying a subtle, ticklish sensation-both itching and prickling-that pierced straight into the depths of Ruan Siyi’s heart.

She lifted her head slightly, her gaze growing more intense, tinged with a clumsy sort of devotion.

Her lips slid downward, carefully covering Fu Ru’an’s eyelids. The long lashes at the edges of her eyelids obediently lowered, like two faintly quivering little fans, brushing against the corner of Ruan Siyi’s mouth.

Even though it was just an accidental graze, it sent a tremor through Ruan Siyi’s heart.

Her voice, too, quivered-nervous, yet bold enough to utter such shameless words.

“Not just here.”

She knew.

“Sister” and “pink.” The neurons in her brain associated with these two concepts continuously strengthened, firing over and over at the same time until the linked neurons were tightly bound together, inseparable, intertwined with the fragments and images flashing incessantly through her mind.

Lost in thought, Ruan Siyi’s hands refused to stop. Her fingertips glided lightly over that well-defined curve, her movements slow and restrained-testing, yet also carrying an unconscious tenderness. The sensation was soft yet with a barely perceptible roughness, each subtle caress sending a faint shiver through her heart.

“Sister,” Ruan Siyi’s other hand gently tugged at the blanket, her voice low, as if laced with laughter yet carrying a hint of provocation. Her gaze trailed downward along the covers, settling on that faintly trembling flush, her tone deliberately drawn out, as if each word carried an undercurrent of surging tension. “Do you understand now? This is what I felt…when you did this to me before.”

Fu Ru’an’s mind went blank, gasping as she cursed at her.

“You’re so annoying.”

But unexpectedly, such a reproach, not even delivered in a particularly stern tone, instead made Ruan Siyi visibly more excited-

Her scorching hot cheeks pressed insistently closer, seeking to nestle against that blushing face, while her hands subtly shifted positions, restless and unruly.

“Sister, don’t hate me, how could you hate me?”

The feigned grievance in Ruan Siyi’s voice was nearly overflowing, the false grievance sliding wetly through the damp forest air. Sometimes, she went even further, straying carelessly into the peach blossom grove, coaxing more streams to gush forth in eager, pulsing bursts-only to retreat abruptly, leaving behind a hollow ache, the humid air clenched tight in frustration.

“Sister, you scold me so beautifully—could you scold me again?”

“I love it when sister scolds me, especially at times like this.”

As if suddenly struck by inspiration, her free hand seized Fu Ru’an’s wrist, pressing it against her own flushed cheek.

“Or does sister want to hit me?”

Those slender, clean fingers pointed to her own crimson face, then upward-to a pair of bright brown eyes that gleamed unmistakably even in the dim light.

“Right here, with all your strength.”

“Then you’ll leave behind a fragrant mark.”

“A mark that belongs only to Sister Fu.”

Thick Alpha pheromones erupted from her glands in an instant, carrying the sharp, icy bite of vodka, spreading like an invisible wildfire that filled the entire space.

The air thickened with the overwhelming scent, seeping into the bloodstream through every pore. Fu Ru’an’s brows twitched faintly, yet her breathing grew heavier than before.

The thin oxygen seemed to be expelled by the other’s pheromones, and even reason felt as though a corner had been invaded-leaving behind nothing but an indescribable restlessness and heat.

“Who in the world would ask someone to hit them…”

Fu Ru’an lifted her gaze, tilting her head slightly, her eyes slowly settling on Ruan Siyi.

But Ruan Siyi’s expression remained one of eager anticipation, even more restless than before. In the candlelight, she could even see Ruan Siyi’s throat bob slightly as she swallowed-a soft, almost imperceptible gulp echoing in the quiet air.

“This isn’t a slap-it’s sister’s reward.”

She muttered the words softly against Fu Ru’an’s skin before leaning in again to lick at her delicate collarbone, sucking deeply with a hungry gasp.

Fu Ru’an fell silent for a moment before slowly saying to her:

“But right now, I don’t really feel like hitting you.”

She had already been somewhat emotionally charged, but after calming down and chatting for a while, she had completely relaxed and didn’t feel like moving at all.

Slapping someone, no less—it was something she had never done in her life.

“Ah…”

Ruan Siyi’s eyelids drooped in disappointment, the light in her eyes dimming instantly, like flames deliberately snuffed out.

In that moment, the aura around her seemed to shrink, her earlier assertiveness and certainty vanishing, replaced only by faint traces of unease and dejection.

The scent of vodka still lingered between them, but it was no longer as overpowering. Instead, it carried a hint of restraint and sourness, like a storm rapidly cooling.

The next second, however, Ruan Siyi’s eyes suddenly lit up again.

Her fingers abruptly pinched the pearl.

Fu Ru’an, who had already been teetering on the edge of climax and had only just caught a brief respite, couldn’t withstand such stimulation.

An electric current instantly shot up from her tailbone, spreading to her limbs, the tingling sensation rushing straight to her brain. Waves of pleasure piled up, culminating in a blank void.

Before her mind went blank, she felt as though she could no longer think. The only thing echoing incessantly in her head was that slap Ruan Siyi had been so fixated on, the one she couldn’t forget.

A slap.

She had to slap Ruan Ruan.

A delicious, fragrant slap.

In the quiet air, the crisp, loud “smack—” sounded especially abrupt, like thunder outside, shattering the calm of the room.

The distinct aroma of Fu Ru’an’s Bailey’s instantly filled Ruan Siyi’s nostrils, and her face tilted slightly to the side from the momentum.

It wasn’t actually very forceful—Fu Ru’an had clearly held back, even if it had sounded impressively loud.

But Ruan Siyi could still feel all the bl00d in her body rushing to her face, burning hot and flushed. It was as if the narrow, densely woven capillaries beneath her skin were swollen to the point of bursting, the bl00d inside frantically surging and clamoring, as though it might rupture at any moment, splashing into vivid red blossoms.

A surge of dopamine was released at that very moment, activating the mesolimbic reward system in her brain. Her scalp tingled with pleasure, leaving her utterly dazed and euphoric so much so that she nearly grabbed Fu Ru’an’s hand, the very one that had struck her, and licked it, leaving behind a glistening trail of wetness.

Along with that slap came an indescribable thrill, like a long-suppressed spring tide finally awakened. The trickling waters emerged from the depths of a hidden peach blossom grove, winding through dense thickets, moistening the moss and undergrowth. The air seemed thick with a damp, earthy scent, carrying the whispers of a spring breeze-an ambiguous, unspoken tension quietly spreading.

The candle had burned down to a stub, its flickering flame struggling weakly before its imminent demise, so faint it might be swallowed by the darkness at any moment. A smudge of soot gathered on the wick, occasionally emitting a soft crackle. Molten wax dripped down the side, solidifying into curved, translucent layers-once hot and viscous, now cooled into delicate, shell-like traces.

“Sister Fu, is this how you show your hatred for me?”

“You said you hated me, so why… did you moan in front of someone you despise?”