Tempting the Holy Monk - Chapter 2

I watched him slowly drain the bowl, rose, drew a steadying breath, and began undoing my silk robes. Best to make this quick.

With a monk this handsome, I would despise myself if I didn’t entertain a few improper thoughts.

I was busily taking off my clothes when a sudden tingling shot up inside me.

Huh?

What was happening?

Chuxuan remained seated with his eyes closed, as immovable as a mountain.

Why was a fire spreading through my body, burning me up from within?

As my thoughts blurred, I dimly recalled something Elder Huai had once said.

“Once the medicine takes effect, the sophora demon who supplied it suffers too. The higher the recipient’s cultivation, the worse the backlash if their yin and yang are not joined.”

That was what made us so valuable.

Possession of our blossom dew was as good as possession of our fate. It could compel us to protect someone with everything we had.

A faint sandalwood fragrance hung in the air, soothing my fever like a clear mountain spring.

Like a parched traveler, I closed my eyes and pressed toward it.

The moment I touched the back of Chuxuan’s hand, I sighed. “Monk, you’re so cool…”

Growing bolder, I slipped between his arm and chest, curled into that narrow space, and nuzzled against him.

“It hurts, Monk…”

“Get off.” His cool voice had turned slightly hoarse.

Beyond reason, I took his earlobe into my mouth and bit it gently. My hand slipped recklessly inside his collar, roaming over his smooth chest.

Slowly, it wandered down over his stomach. Before it could go any lower, he caught it in an iron grip.

“The sea of suffering has no shore,” Chuxuan said without emotion. “Turn back, and you will find land.”

Even the way he spoke looked beautiful to me. I couldn’t help kissing him.

His lips were thin. I spent ages trying and got no further than the surface of them.

Chuxuan kept his eyes tightly shut and refused even to touch me.

I refused to believe that a monk who had never known a woman could remain unmoved under the influence of an aphrodisiac.

“Monk, are you… incapable…?”

I hooked a finger around the prayer beads and stole them from his palm, one bead at a time. “The Buddha in your heart, or a beauty in your arms. Choose…”

A burning-hot hand suddenly closed around my waist.

His grip was unyielding.

The heat made me shiver. I melted into Chuxuan’s arms.

Only this close could I hear his strong, steady heartbeat. It seemed a little faster now.

Burning beyond endurance, I clung to his neck, my gaze swimming.

“Master, you’ve drunk my medicine. You owe me a kindness…”

Chuxuan neither agreed nor refused. His hand slid from my waist to my back and held me still.

Then he caught my ankle. Rough calluses brushed my tender skin.

Trembling, I watched him slip a string of prayer beads around it.

“Stop now, and I will spare you.” He released me and pressed his palms together before his chest.

“Don’t spare me, Master.” Fever had scrambled my wits. My eyes were unfocused, my words confused. “The backlash will destroy my soul. Save me.”

My soul was beginning to pull away. Fire consumed my heart; even my palms tingled.

I was running out of time.

The moment his lips parted, I saw a sliver of hope and stormed the gates without a thought.

Through the haze, I heard a sigh.

“Relieving another’s suffering is also an act of boundless merit.”

For a Buddhist adept, breaking his vows and entering earthly passions damaged his cultivation.

But for a demon, nothing was more nourishing than a man’s yang essence.

That night, spiritual power flowed endlessly from Chuxuan into my veins. Every part of me relaxed, like a thoroughly satisfied cat.

I lost count of how many times I cried out in excitement, clawing bloody marks across his chest and back. At last, I passed out.