The master suite became a sanctuary of unholy worship, the air vibrating with the conflicting yet harmonizing auras of the Nine-Yin Lunar Phoenix and the Primordial Yang. As Lixue's hand pressed firmly against the back of Meng Yan's head, the power dynamic in the room shifted. The "First Wife" was no longer just a spectator; she was the conductor of the Matriarch's surrender.
Mmph... Shlukk... Shlukk...
Meng Yan let out a muffled, primal sound against Shen Yu's length. The pressure from Lixue forced her deeper than she had ever gone, her throat stretching to its absolute limit. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming sensation of being simultaneously claimed by her Lord and guided by her Sister.
"That's it, Yan'er," Shen Yu growled, his golden eyes flashing as he felt the desperate, involuntary ripples of her throat muscles. "Show Lixue how well you can take it."
Gulk... Gluck... Gluck-nnn...
