AN: One Chapter today. I am so tired. Happy reading.
Finally free from the endless rounds of toasts and pleasantries, Han Xin stepped away from the laughter and chatter of the banquet hall. He sighed with relief, grateful to leave the guests to their own devices.
As he made his way out, he turned to his cousin, who was already showing signs of tipsiness. "Don’t... don’t stay out late," he advised, a hint of concern lacing his voice.
Just as he started to walk away, Han Zhan, swaying slightly, stammered in a drunken stupor, "Don’t overdo it. Don’t break my sister... sister-in-law on the first night!"
Han Xin halted and took a sharp U-turn, draping an arm around Han Zhan’s shoulders, taking the glass from his fingers and setting it down on a nearby table. "You’re done for the night," he announced with a smile, glancing up at the Marshal, who understood without question.
"Am I... I am really done... not?" Han Zhan pouted, holding up a finger as if pleading for one last drink. His steps were unsteady, reminiscent of a wobbling toy. "I just wanted one... just one more drink."
Han Xin chuckled softly, "Little Bai will make you sleep on the couch again."
"No, noooo!" Han Zhan protested, his face lighting up with a silly grin. "He did, but he was so sweet. He came to find me, and we slept on the couch together. Bai Bai is so nice."
Han Xin raised an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. "He might not be nice if you keep this up. Now go coax him."
Taking Han Xin’s advice to heart, Han Zhan wobbled toward the leisure room, determination fueling his steps. As he stumbled into the room, he lunged for Little Bai, wrapping his arms around him tightly. "Husband wuwuwu, I missed you!" he exclaimed, his words slightly slurred.
Little Bai, though surprised, instinctively hugged him back, albeit struggling to support Han Zhan’s weight as he leaned against him. "I am here," he said, his voice steady despite the awkwardness.
Han Xin watched the scene unfold, a warm smile on his face. "Do you need help taking him back?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.
Little Bai shook his head firmly. "No, it’s okay. I got him."
"Alright then," Han Xin replied, stepping back to give them space. His gaze flickered toward the balcony where he noticed Lian and Mei, playing a game under the stars. "Are you two good?" he called out, his heart lightening at their laughter.
Both of them raised their thumbs, signalling that all was well. Han Xin nodded in understanding and stepped outside, excitement bubbling within him. He could hardly wait to see his man, to finally enjoy the peace of the evening together, enveloped in the warmth of their love. Translation, sexy time.
The door slid open to their bedchamber, the familiar scent of sandalwood and plumeria wrapping around him like a warm embrace. The lounge area had wedding decorations on every surface. There were silk banners in rich hues of crimson and gold draped gracefully, delicate paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, and fresh flowers spilt from vases, their sweet fragrance mingling with the incense.
Gifts from their close family were piled high on tables, and trays of snacks sat untouched. Amidst all this, one thing caught his eye immediately. It was a crimson box resting on the table, a stark contrast to the ivory and gold surroundings. A small note was tucked on top of it.
Han Xin’s brow furrowed as he crossed the room, his boots silent on the plush carpet. He picked up the note, his fingers brushing against the smooth paper. "Put this on. It’s your punishment."
His lips twitched at the familiar handwriting, sharp and precise. He had thought his man would have let this go by now, but he should have known better. His man was great at holding grudges.
Curiosity piqued, Han Xin lifted the lid of the box. Inside, folded neatly, was a garment that made his lips curl into a suppressed smile. It was absurd, scandalous, and undeniably erotic. The fabric shimmered under the light.
It was a white tight-fitting dress, and the cut was... daring. With a sigh that was half amusement and half resignation, Han Xin took off his intricate wedding attire, the silk pooling at his feet. He stood bare-chested for a moment, the cool air of the room brushing against his skin, before slipping into the skimpy outfit.
The dress was deceptively simple, a single piece of fabric that clung to his skin like a second layer. It was tight in all the right places, accentuating the lean muscles of his torso. The collar plunged low, revealing the contours of his pectoral muscles, his nipples pressing against the thin material.
Han Xin’s fingers grazed his chest, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he realized how exposed he felt. A chill brushed against his skin as he turned, noticing the dress was open at the back, a cold stream of air caressing his bare flesh.
The hem was scandalously short, the fabric barely covering his thighs, leaving his buttocks exposed. He stifled another smile, his reflection in the mirror both ridiculous and undeniably alluring.
Inside the box was also a pair of black tights. Han Xin picked them up, frowning as he held them at arm’s length. "They are like socks, right?" he muttered to himself, turning them over in his hands.
He had never worn tights before, and the idea of them felt both foreign and intriguing. With a shrug, he sat down on the edge of the couch and began the awkward process of wriggling into them.
It took him several minutes to figure out how to get them on, his fingers fumbling with the delicate fabric. "This is ugh... harder than it looks... fuck," he grumbled, his voice muffled as he tugged the tights up his legs. Finally, they reached his upper thighs, fitting snugly against his sculpted muscles.
He stood up and admired the way they hugged his legs, the fabric smooth and tight against his skin. Is this even right? He wondered, but the fit felt correct, and he couldn’t deny the way it made his thighs look... well, good.
But there was more. At the bottom of the box lay a thin, stringy fabric with lace trim. Han Xin’s brow furrowed as he picked it up, turning it every which way.
"What the...?" he murmured, looking like he was trying to solve a puzzle that defied all logic. The fabric was so sheer it was almost transparent, and the lace at the edges added a delicate, feminine touch that made his heart flutter with nervous excitement.
His eyes narrowed as he noticed the triangle-shaped front. Ah, I see. With a deep breath, he stepped into the fabric, pulling it up his legs. The thin panties, if they could even be called that. barely covered anything, and he could feel the cold air against his skin.