Every drop of her hips felt wonderful. The wet warmth of her depths bounding on top of him made him realize just how long it had been since he'd last slept with a woman. He definitely didn't plan on wasting the opportunity either. With her arms sitting on his chest, he had the perfect chance to reach around her and grip her ass. The flesh filled out his hands, and he gave them a good squeeze, feeling the soft cheeks in between his fingers. She was doing amazing all by herself, but he didn't mind rubbing her ass as he helped push her down, and pull her back up. Each stroke felt like it drove pleasure through his core. Although it was quite definitely sex, it felt a little more intimate than just his average one night stands in a small town on an easy case. Even though he'd only met the woman a few days ago, this desire he felt made it feel like he'd been waiting to come back to her for quite some time. A lingering pain almost seemed to be lifted from his being, and each moan made it that much better.<br/><br/>When she bent over, he could feel the way her body bent around his dick. Even as she started to kiss, he lifted his own hips to meet with hers. The light way she eagerly drove her tongue into his mouth turned him on even more, and he started to pick up pace, a light groan escape his gut as he drove himself into her. Almost every sound she made was accompanied by a shiver that went through her body, and onto his. Pulling his hand up, he gave her ass a light smack, enough to make a mark he imagined. The resounding sensation on his hand rippled through her ass, and he could feel it himself. His other hand reached up and almost aggressively held her closer. It felt like all the passion he had been holding in had been waiting for her, and it just seemed to explode out of him.<br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/>An Bo had stayed up through most of the night. His heart raced in his chest as he laid there, just thinking about what was to come. A small part of his mind told him that it was a setup, that Lengxie was luring him away from Wuqing, getting far enough away from him to actually kill the man. Part of him was always cautious, and he should even be more so considered the man who was supposedly arranging the marriage was also madly in love with the same woman, and the only thing coming between them would be himself. It'd solve Lengxie's issues of her loving An Bo as well if he was simply no longer part of the picture. And it's not like the prince would have any issues doing so. The wounds on his healing chest were a testament to such.<br/><br/>The parchment holding the poem he wrote sat on the small table next to his bed, the ink still wet, and glistening in the candle light as it dried ever so slowly. The words were probably some of the truest and most creative he had yet to come up with. The way he poured his heart into the paper showed, each brush delicate, yet precise. It looked like art almost, the beautiful symbols flowing down the page like a river, filled with his love for the woman. Although the small part of him told him to fear for his life, nothing would compare to the chance that he'd be able to actually marry Wuqing. He was willing to risk his life for this. More than anything else before it.