The kiss dragged on for endless minutes in the dimness of the monumental chamber.
Zhì Yuǎn's mouth offered no truce. The god's burning tongue invaded the warm cavity of Lín Jié with brutal possession, savoring the ink woman's saliva while his immense hands continued to knead the full, untouched flesh of her breasts. With each squeeze of her rigid nipples, a strangled gasp died against the man's lips.
When he finally drew his face back, Lín Jié's voluptuous chest was rising and falling in chaotic, desperate gasps. Her lips were scandalously swollen and glistening with saliva. Her mature neck and pale collarbone bore dark, wet marks descending to the hollow of the freshly devoured underarm, attesting to the voracity of that first assault.
"Haa... mnn..." Lín Jié panted, her green, analytical eyes completely clouded, her bureaucratic sanity floating in a blind stupor.
Zhì Yuǎn's dark, hungry gaze traveled down the secretary's exposed body. He did not hesitate. The god slid his body downward, his warm chest gliding over the woman's contracted stomach. His calloused hands seized Lín Jié's thick, mature thighs, spreading them open without the slightest shame across the scarlet velvet, baring her drenched, pulsing intimacy to the faint light of the oil lamp.
Lín Jié held her breath. The thick, musky dampness of her virgin Yin glistened, trickling down her own legs.
Around them, the altar fell silent to appreciate the spectacle. Yù Méi settled across the rumpled sheets, propping her chin in her crossed hands, her living-gold eyes dilating in a carnivorous, impatient voyeurism. Mò Yán and Bái Wǎn aligned themselves sensually beside the younger sister; the diplomat squeezed her own thighs beneath her wide-open white chemise, a feverish flush painting her pale neck, while the ocean-haired girl observed everything with a gentle adoration.
But it was the queen of the altar who reacted most intensely. Leaning against the immense headboard, the sight of her god about to taste the purest Yin of the ink woman sent Yù Qíng's Ocean of Devotion roiling. The priestess lowered her black eyes to the Two Pearls nestled against her shoulders. With a smile of lethal, dominant sweetness, Yù Qíng pressed her cold palms against the napes of Huáng Bìyù and Qīng Yǔ, pushing the ruined fairies' immaculate faces directly against her own chest.
The empire's legends did not hesitate. Numbed by submission, the two parted the dark blue silk robe of the eldest sister in perfect synchrony. The once-chaste lips of the Pearls captured the priestess's pale, full breasts. They lapped at her warm skin with avidity before closing around Yù Qíng's rigid nipples, sucking the soft flesh in a wet, desperate rhythm that drew a long, trembling sigh from the goddess in blue.
Zhì Yuǎn tilted his face and buried his mouth directly against Lín Jié's folds.
"AAAAAH!" The bureaucrat's cry tore through the room's heavy air, her hips arching violently against the mattress.
The man's wide, scalding tongue invaded the slick entrance, savoring the sweet, untouched nectar with animalistic avidity. He was not gentle; his tongue lashed the swollen, hypersensitive nerve, sucking the clitoris with a pressure that instantly short-circuited the woman's stagnant meridians.
"M-Mnnn! Nngh! P-Please..." Lín Jié whimpered, mouth wide open. Her hands — fingertips stained with ink — blindly clawed at the sheets, pulling the fabric until it tore. She tried to close her legs out of pure instinct for sensory self-preservation, but his broad shoulders kept her thighs locked open.
The obscene sound of suction, wet flesh, and saliva echoed through the room. He devoured her intimacy, drinking the virgin essence with dense, wet sounds that made the bureaucrat's mature body convulse — a noise that merged harmoniously with the wet sounds of the Two Pearls' mouths serving Yù Qíng's full body at the headboard.
"N-No... ahnn! It's too much... I'm going to... aahhh!"
The second climax struck her like a meteor. Lín Jié screamed, throwing her head back. The muscles of her legs convulsed violently, her core contracting hysterically as an inexhaustible torrent of thick Yin gushed directly against her husband's face and mouth. Zhì Yuǎn let out a low growl, swallowing the sweet, volcanic nectar without wasting a single drop, sucking her nerve through the very last tremor of her orgasm.
When the god finally raised his torso, his strong jaw and lips glistened with the girl's purest fluids.
Lín Jié was completely undone. Her arms lay limp beside her body, her skin shimmering with cold sweat, her thighs trembling in occasional spasms. She panted, her mind incapable of processing any complex thought.
Zhì Yuǎn knelt between her open legs. His colossal, incandescent, throbbing shaft grazed against the secretary's wet entrance. The absurd density and heat of the enormous member pressed against Lín Jié's abdomen.
The shock of that terrifying girth returned a spark of lucidity to the woman. She swallowed hard. The bureaucrat looked at the length that threatened to tear her in two, and then those wet green irises rose to the man's perfectly sculpted face.
A feverish, scandalous flush overtook the woman's soft, mature cheeks. Lín Jié averted her gaze to the side, ashamed, her ink-stained fingers gripping the sheets timidly, before looking back up into the depths of those dark eyes.
"Husband..." Lín Jié's voice came out thin, hoarse, and choked with a shyness she had not felt in decades. "What... what is your name?"
The contrast between the woman who had just come scandalously in his mouth and the bureaucratic innocence of that question paralyzed the room for a single second.
The carnivorous lethargy in Zhì Yuǎn's eyes evaporated. The god's broad chest rose, and a deep, rich laugh laden with dry, wonderfully human humor vibrated in his throat.
"And here I was wondering how many orgasms I'd pull from you before you even knew my name," his voice echoed velvety, the gentle, absurdly affectionate tone disarming the room's tension entirely.
Lín Jié's face erupted in a furious red. She tried to hide her face in her hands, but Zhì Yuǎn would not allow it. He slid his body over hers, pressing the mature woman against the velvet. His enormous, burning member was ground deliberately against her bare stomach — a hot, heavy, thick friction that made the secretary gasp, her Yin throbbing and dripping further at the provocation that it would never fit inside her.
He pulled her hands away from her face. The god's warm mouth descended, scattering short, wet, possessive kisses across her flushed cheeks, her jaw, her nose.
"Zhì Yuǎn," he whispered against her trembling lips, authority and devotion fusing in every syllable. "Engrave it in your heart, Lín Jié. Because I intend to brand that name into every millimeter of your body tonight."
Her green eyes dilated in pure, impassioned stupor.
He did not wait for a response. Guiding the wet head of his shaft against her drenched folds, Zhì Yuǎn pushed.
The impact of the broken barrier made Lín Jié choke.
"AAHH!" the woman's back arched violently. The invasion was colossal, the girth stretching untouched flesh to its absolute limit, a pressure that threatened to tear her apart from within.
But before the cry of pain could form, Zhì Yuǎn's large, calloused hand pressed flat against her bare lower abdomen.
Dense, golden Primordial Qi flowed from his palm into her core. The thermal massage was surgical. Where the tear and the burning of the physical invasion raged, the volcanic, numbing heat of his energy melted her nerves, transmuting the agony into an avalanche of anesthetic pleasure.
The shock of relief and the absurd fullness of being filled to the very mouth of her womb short-circuited Lín Jié's nervous system in the same millisecond. The first thrust had not even finished, and the third orgasm swallowed her whole.
"AAAAAH! ZHI YUAN!" his name was screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice tearing through her throat in a strangled roar. Her inner walls convulsed like an iron vice around his shaft, milking him hysterically as her nectar flooded the bed.
He began to move.
Slow at first. Long, measured strokes — pulling back nearly to the tip before sinking to the base with a dense impact. Slap. Slap. The sound of wet flesh colliding dominated the room. He allowed the woman's voluptuous musculature to mold itself to his ridiculous girth.
The spectacle of that invasion fed the collective furnace. Yù Méi panted heavily, rubbing her own thighs together as she watched the bureaucrat being wrecked. Reclined against the pillows just beside her, Mò Yán bit her lower lip nearly to the point of drawing blood. Bái Wǎn was perfectly nestled against the diplomat's side; the young girl's large ocean eyes overflowed with a gentle, avid lust, riveted to the husband's thrusts, while one of her small pale hands kneaded and massaged with fascination one of Mò Yán's enormous breasts. Instigated by the younger sister's warm touch and intoxicated by the dense sound of flesh colliding, the restrained flower did not resist — Mò Yán's own hand rose to crush and punish her other full breast over the wide-open white chemise, a feverish, sweaty flush descending her neck.
At the headboard, Yù Qíng moaned softly, her head thrown back against the wood. Huáng Bìyù had climbed up the priestess's lap, licking and kissing the pale skin up to the curve of Yù Qíng's sweaty neck, while the Dragon warrior's hand descended to possessively massage the breast she had just released. On the other side, Qīng Yǔ continued to nip and lick the generously offered flesh. The Holy Healer's pale hand slid down the priestess's contracted stomach, descending to Yù Qíng's drenched intimacy. The fairy's skilled fingers slid through the goddess's wet folds, rubbing her swollen nerve and guiding the friction in a rhythm calibrated to the millimeter against the dense, crushing impacts of Zhì Yuǎn's thrusts.
"Mnn... husband... ahhn... yes..." Lín Jié whimpered, drooling against her own pillow, her thick thighs spreading wider and wider to receive him, her mind floating in a thick haze of sandalwood and lust.
The rhythm deepened. He hammered her core with merciless precision, his Yang crashing against her pure Yin in a maddening friction. Two more successive orgasms crushed the ink woman. She wept, eyes rolled back, fingers digging into the ruined sheets, her entire body dissolved into a pool of sweat and continuous pleasure.
"Turn over," Zhì Yuǎn growled, the Hunger in his eyes darkening the dimness.
He withdrew with a wet, sucking sound. Lín Jié let out a pathetic whimper at the loss of his warmth. Without any delicacy, his large hands seized the woman's full hips and flipped her facedown. He pulled her back by her knees, forcing the bureaucrat onto all fours on the bed.
Lín Jié's mature, voluptuous body was raised, her pink, drenched core bared and glistening with fluids in the darkness.
Zhì Yuǎn knelt behind her. In a fluid, crushing movement, he sank his shaft in one single thrust, burying himself inside her from behind.
"NNGH! My heaven!" Lín Jié screamed, the impact launching her torso forward.
But he did not let her fall. Zhì Yuǎn's left arm passed beneath her underarm, his calloused hand sliding through the deep, full valley between the woman's breasts, rising until it gripped Lín Jié's throat firmly. He pulled her back, pressing the secretary's bare, sweaty back flush against his rigid chest, forcing her upright on her knees against him.
The god's right hand descended, pressing flat and heavy directly against Lín Jié's stomach.
What followed was devastating.
Zhì Yuǎn began to thrust faster and harder. Slap! Slap! Slap! With each brutal impact of his hips from behind, his right hand pressed her stomach inward. The double pressure — the colossal shaft wrecking her innermost depths and the hand crushing her abdomen from outside — created a vacuum of agonizing pleasure directly in the woman's womb.
"AAHH! AAH! ZHI YUAN!" Lín Jié roared, tears flying from her face. Her mind went blank. His hand at her throat kept her in place, anchoring the voluptuous body that thrashed frantically beneath the collision. "Break me apart... fill me whole... ahhn!"
He turned the woman's neck with the firm grip at her throat, forcing Lín Jié's flushed face to the side. Zhì Yuǎn's mouth captured her lips in a savage, deep kiss, his burning tongue devouring her screams while his hips continued to obliterate her from behind in a cadence of pure brute force.
The ink woman's sanity disintegrated entirely.
The final orgasm struck her. It was not a swift spasm — it was a continuous collapse that left her completely limp. Lín Jié's knees gave out, held up only by his hand at her throat and the shaft buried in her core. She moaned against his mouth — a long, liquid, babbling sound that lasted minutes on end, her trembling body milking her husband in absolute biological frenzy.
Zhì Yuǎn's low roar vibrated against her lips. The Singularity's limit overflowed.
He drove the final thrust home, sinking until not a single millimeter of space remained, and released. The volcanic, thick torrent of super-dense Yang surged deep into the secretary's womb. The colossal, scalding seed filled her core in unrelenting jets, bathing her insides for minutes on end.
Lín Jié panted, eyes rolled back, feeling her stomach swell with the liquid fire consuming her from the inside out. The stagnant bureaucrat was dead; the ink woman emerging from that furnace — overflowing with her god's nectar and seed — belonged, irrevocably, to that altar alone.