The Young Master's Three Warmths Study Companion - Chapter 3

I started college, and Young Master bought an apartment near campus.

One rainy afternoon in the second semester of freshman year, Young Master came to pick me up from class.

He stood under an umbrella at the bottom of the classroom building, upright and elegant, drawing countless gazes in an instant.

I trotted over and ducked under the umbrella.

He naturally took my bag, and his other arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me closer into his embrace, shielding me from the wind, rain, and watching eyes.

His tone carried a hint of reproach:

“Why were you running? Next time, just stand and wait for me. You’ll catch a cold if you get soaked. And why did you take off your jacket again? You were coughing this morning-do you want to drink bitter medicine?”

I nodded perfunctorily, going along: “Got it, Young Master. I was wrong. I’ll change.”

Once I was seated in the warm car, I tilted my head up, and Young Master pulled out tissues to wipe my face and hair.

The car interior was cramped, and only the rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers and his breathing filled the silence.

He leaned in close, his gaze intent, his fingertips brushing my skin.

My heart raced, and an indescribable yearning began to grow inside me.

Such impulses had become more and more frequent lately.

I didn’t know what it was; I just instinctively wanted to get closer to him, closer still.

And then, I pressed my lips to his.

Young Master looked at me with a deep, unreadable expression, not moving, letting me kiss him awkwardly.

I had no finesse; I just clumsily rubbed and nibbled, accidentally bumping my lip against his, and the pain made me instinctively want to pull back.

Only belatedly did I realize what I’d had the audacity to do.

Young Master sighed, cupped the back of my head, and stopped my retreat.

He didn’t rush further in; his tongue gently licked the spot I’d bumped, and only then did he softly part my lips and teeth.

This kiss was completely different from my reckless attempt.

It was slow, deep, filled with an indescribable cherishing.

He said, “Good Boy.”

My waist went weak instantly, and I could only stay upright because of his arm around my waist.

Oxygen became scarce, my consciousness starting to blur, and I unconsciously clutched at his chest, scratching his neatly pressed shirt.

Just when the kiss was about to suffocate me, Young Master finally drew back slightly, forehead resting against mine, breathing ragged.

He grabbed my hand that had been misbehaving on his chest, his voice husky:

“Ah You, when I kiss you, does it disgust you?”

How could it be disgusting?

Young Master’s lips were soft, warm, sweet, and incredibly good to kiss.

My gaze hazy as I looked at his handsome face so near, I answered honestly, “I liked it a lot. I want to kiss again.”

Saying so, like a child greedy for candy, I tilted my head up and chased after him, wanting another kiss.

Young Master chuckled, his thumb gently stroking my lower lip, breaths mingling, warm air brushing my face.

This tantalizing, barely-there touch made my heart itch even more.

“Brother…” I couldn’t help but urge in a whisper.

“No more kissing, Ah You. My self-control isn’t that good.”

As soon as he said that, I clearly felt something hot and hard pressed against my outer thigh.

Even if I was still innocent, I instantly understood what it was.

Desire.

My face instantly flushed, and I didn’t know what to do.

Young Master guided my hand to his left chest.

“Ah You, you’ve grown up. Do you know what it means to like someone?”

Through the thin fabric of his shirt, I felt his strong, powerful heartbeat pounding against my palm, one beat at a time.

“Here-because of you, it beats fast. This is what liking someone feels like.”