Chapter 406: The Sensual Meridian Massage
Chapter 406: The Sensual Meridian Massage
The spectacular conclusion of the Yao Clan’s Grand Alchemy Tournament had left the entire Secret Realm in a state of vibrating, electrified shock. The manifestation of a flawless, Five-Colored medicinal pill had completely shattered the established paradigms of the younger generation. As the dense, chaotic energies of the Pill Tribulation finally dissipated into the crimson sky, the sheer magnitude of Feng Xiao’s achievement settled heavily over the tens of thousands of observing martialists.
Almost immediately after Grand Elder Yao Yuan officially declared the end of the competition, the frantic, desperate scramble for power began.
Feng Xiao had barely stepped off the scorching obsidian arena before he was entirely swarmed. He was not approached by the arrogant elders of the Ancient Clans—their pride was far too deeply wounded by their sudden humiliation at the hands of an outsider—but rather, he was cornered by the continent’s most lucrative and influential independent organizations. Massive Trade Unions, prestigious Alchemy Guilds from the southern coasts, and formidable martial sects entirely focused on the profound arts of flame control and fire-attribute martial techniques descended upon him like starving wolves.
“Young Master Feng!” shouted a portly, silk-clad representative of the Golden Cauldron Trade Union, shoving past a group of lesser merchants. “The Golden Cauldron Union offers you the position of Chief Guest Alchemist! We will provide you with three entire mountains of mid-grade fire crystals annually, and ten million Battle Aura stones! Name your price!”
“Ignore these peddlers, Brother Feng!” interrupted a stern, scarred elder from the Blazing Sun Martial Sect, his body radiating a dense, scorching Battle Aura. “Join our sect! We possess ancient, Heaven-grade flame martial techniques that will perfectly complement your extraordinary pill-concocting flames. We will make you a Vice-Sect Master today!”
Feng Xiao stood amidst the chaotic throng, his plain blue robes fluttering in the heated breeze. He maintained a calm, entirely unimpressed facade. His internal Dantian was currently exhausted from violently merging his Heavenly Flames to achieve the Five-Colored Pill, but his spirit was soaring. He had proven his worth to the world.
“I thank you all for your incredibly generous offers and your profound esteem,” Feng Xiao replied, his voice amplified by a subtle application of his Battle Aura, carrying clearly over the shouting crowd. “However, I must respectfully decline. I am a representative of Pill Valley. They provided me with the foundational resources to walk the alchemical Dao, and my loyalty remains with the Valley. I will not be accepting outside recruitment at this time.”
His polite but entirely uncompromising rejection caused a wave of disappointed groans from the various factions. They knew better than to openly antagonize a man capable of forging a Five-Colored Pill, especially one who had just publicly reaffirmed his ties to the formidable Pill Valley. Reluctantly, the trade unions and independent flame sects backed away, leaving Feng Xiao to return to his designated guest quarters to recuperate.
But the true, high-stakes battle for the Flame King’s loyalty had not even begun.
It was only late at night, long after the chaotic fervor of the arenas had died down and the luminous pearls illuminated the sprawling, red sandstone pathways of the Yao Clan’s central city, that the real apex predators made their move.
Feng Xiao was sitting in lotus position within his lavish guest pavilion, meditating to restore his depleted Battle Aura, when the heavy, rune-inscribed doors of his courtyard were unceremoniously pushed open.
He opened his eyes, his brow furrowing as a wave of incredibly dense, suffocating, and terrifyingly refined Battle Auras washed into the room. He stood up immediately, his combat instincts flaring.
Stepping into his private courtyard was a procession of absolute, overwhelming imperial majesty.
Leading the group was Noble Consort Shu, her massive, incredibly heavy pale breasts threatening to completely spill out of her tight, dark blue corset with every confident step she took. Beside her walked Imperial Consort Xian, her tall, commanding figure draped in crimson silks that hugged her famously wide, curvaceous hips. Flanking them were Princess Huang Mei, her athletic, perky chest straining against her gold-threaded dress, and Princess Huang Hua, waving her spirit-peacock fan with a sultry, arrogant grace.
And standing quietly, slightly behind the imposing wall of Imperial Women, was Princess Gu Ling of the Gu Clan.
Feng Xiao’s heart slammed against his ribs like a war drum. He saw her. His beloved, elegant, pristine Princess of the Gu Clan. She was wearing her signature pale lavender silk, her beautiful face a mask of polite, respectful indifference. She did not look directly at him, perfectly maintaining the illusion that they were complete strangers, but the very sight of her filled his exhausted meridians with a sudden, burning vitality.
He immediately bowed, pressing his fist to his palm in a standard martial salute, ensuring he kept his eyes lowered to show the proper respect to the imperial court.
“Noble Consorts. Imperial Princesses. Princess Gu Ling,” Feng Xiao greeted them evenly, suppressing the tremor in his voice. “To what do I owe the profound honor of this late-night visitation?”
“You may dispense with the excessive pleasantries, Feng Xiao of Pill Valley,” Imperial Consort Xian drawled haughtily, stepping forward. Her crimson robes swayed, highlighting her voluptuous figure. “We are not here to exchange courtly banter. We are here because you have demonstrated a talent that simply cannot be allowed to rot in a mundane, secondary organization like Pill Valley.”
Noble Consort Shu scoffed, her melodic voice dripping with competitive venom as she shot a side-glance at Consort Xian. “Speak for yourself, Xian. Do not presume to speak for my intentions. I am here to offer this brilliant young man a future worthy of his Five-Colored Pill.” She turned her enchanting, deeply seductive smile upon Feng Xiao. “The Third Prince extends his hand to you, Feng Xiao. If you swear your allegiance to my son’s faction, you shall have unrestricted access to the Imperial Deep-Sea Marrow reserves, and a dedicated retinue of Peak Martial Grandmasters for your personal protection.”
“Deep-Sea Marrow?” Princess Huang Mei laughed, a sharp, incredibly arrogant sound. “Do not insult the boy with wet rocks, Shu. The First Prince offers you genuine martial power, Feng Xiao. Join his vanguard. We will provide you with a dozen ‘Dragon-Vein Gold’ cauldrons, forged from the bones of actual spirit-dragons, and the complete, unrestricted archives of the Imperial Flame-Arts.”
“You both offer him trinkets and servitude to spoiled princes,” Princess Huang Hua interjected, her fan snapping shut with a loud crack. She stepped closer to Feng Xiao, her intoxicating, mature perfume filling his senses. “I offer you independence and unyielding wealth. Align with my personal, independent mercantile fleet. I will grant you three ‘Sun-Core Lotuses’ upfront—herbs that take a thousand years to bloom in the heart of a volcano. Your Pill Valley could not provide such a treasure in ten lifetimes.”
The courtyard instantly devolved into a vicious, highly competitive battlefield of imperial arrogance. The women openly insulted each other’s factions, sneering at the treasures being offered, their massive breasts heaving with indignation as they engaged in a ruthless bidding war for the protagonist’s loyalty.
“The Third Prince is the future of the Celestial Dragon Empire!” Noble Consort Shu argued fiercely, her cleavage practically bouncing out of her corset. “A Sun-Core Lotus is a mere weed compared to the political backing of the true heir!”
“The Third Prince is a soft-handed poet, and you know it, Shu!” Imperial Consort Xian fired back, her hands resting aggressively on her wide hips. “Only the First Prince possesses the sheer, undeniable Battle Aura to command the throne!”
Feng Xiao stood silently, watching the most powerful, exceptionally voluptuous women in the empire bicker over him like merchants haggling over a prized sword. He was completely overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of their offers. Any single one of these treasures would take him years of blood-soaked adventuring to acquire.
He risked a subtle, fleeting glance at Gu Ling.
The Princess of the Gu Clan stood quietly, her hands folded neatly in front of her. But as their eyes met for a fraction of a second, he saw it. The tiny, almost imperceptible brightening of her ethereal eyes. The slight, supportive inclination of her head. She was internally thrilled. She was incredibly excited to see the man she loved receiving such massive, overwhelming validation and offers from the absolute zenith of the Celestial Dragon Empire. It proved to her that her heart had chosen correctly.
Feng Xiao’s confidence solidified into unbreakable iron. He could not outright reject them as he had the lesser trade unions. Offending the Imperial Consorts would bring the wrath of the Imperial Vanguard down upon his head. But he could not accept, either. He bowed deeply once more, interrupting their fierce argument.
“Esteemed Consorts, Imperial Princesses,” Feng Xiao spoke, his tone laced with profound humility and deep respect. “Your offers are so incredibly magnanimous that they humble this lowly alchemist to his very core. To be courted by the Imperial Family is an honor beyond my wildest, most arrogant dreams. The treasures you offer are legends in their own right.”
He paused, ensuring his posture remained deferential. “However, the sheer weight of such a momentous, life-altering decision is not something I can bear lightly, nor something I can decide in a single evening. Choosing a path within the Imperial Court requires profound contemplation. I humbly beg your forgiveness, and I ask for the time to properly, deeply think about these miraculous opportunities before I commit my Dao to any one faction.”
The Imperial Women fell silent, evaluating his response. His answer was highly respectful, demonstrating a cautious, pragmatic intellect rather than greedy, impulsive foolishness. It only made him more desirable in their eyes.
“Very well, Feng Xiao,” Noble Consort Shu conceded, her sultry smile returning as she adjusted her straining corset. “A true master does not rush his pill concoction, nor his political alignments. Take your time. But remember who recognized your brilliance first.”
“We expect your answer before we return to the capital,” Imperial Consort Xian added sternly, turning on her heel, her crimson silks swishing around her curvaceous legs.
With a final round of arrogant, lingering glances, the Imperial Women departed the courtyard, taking the silent, stoic Princess of the Gu Clan with them. Feng Xiao let out a long, heavy breath as the doors sealed shut, his mind racing with the infinite, golden possibilities his Five-Colored Pill had just unlocked.
High above the guest quarters, within the heavily warded, luxurious mansion secured by the Ling Clan, Alaric reclined on a velvet sofa, a dark, calculating grin spreading across his face.
He had monitored the entire, desperate recruitment pitch through the mental link he shared with Ling Ying, who had received the detailed gossip directly from Gu Ling shortly after the Imperial Women had dispersed.
‘The protagonist is riding high on his wave of destiny,’ Alaric thought, swirling a glass of dark red wine. ‘He believes the heavens have opened their gates for him. The Imperial Family is courting him, his reputation is unassailable, and his beloved Princess looks upon him with pride.’
Alaric took a sip of his wine, the liquid staining his lips like blood.
‘It is time to reel the fish in,’ Alaric decided. ‘The Princess of the Gu Clan has served her purpose by introducing the Imperial Women to my betting games. Now, it is time to isolate her, strip away her arrogant, pristine defenses, and turn Feng Xiao’s greatest motivation into my personal, obedient slut.’
He reached out with his mind, touching the psychic tether connected to Ling Ying, who was currently bathing in the adjacent chambers.
‘Ying’er,’ Alaric commanded smoothly. ‘Send a formal invitation to Princess Gu Ling immediately. Tell her that since the tournament has concluded, and we will all be returning to our respective Ancient Clan realms very soon, you wish to host a private, intimate celebratory farewell feast for her tonight.’
Ling Ying, completely subjugated by his magic, responded instantly with eager compliance. ‘Yes, Alaric. Should I hire the finest chefs in the central city to cater the event?’
‘No,’ Alaric replied, a wicked amusement coloring his mental tone. ‘Tell her that I will be personally cooking the meal to honor our new friendship. Ensure you emphasize how rare and special it is for me to prepare a feast.’
‘She will be incredibly honored!’ Ling Ying projected back, her heart swelling with fabricated pride for her ‘beloved’s’ culinary skills.
A few hours later, the invitation was delivered and eagerly accepted. Gu Ling, exhausted by the intense, suffocating political bickering of the Imperial Women and riding the high of Feng Xiao’s success, viewed a quiet, private dinner with her new friend Ling Ying and the charming, easy-going Alaric as the perfect, relaxing escape. She was genuinely excited to taste the cooking of the man who had brought so much joy to the Ling heiress.
As night fell over the Yao Clan’s Secret Realm, casting long, fiery shadows across the red sandstone architecture, Princess Gu Ling arrived at Ling Ying’s sprawling mansion. She was dressed in a slightly less formal, but incredibly elegant, flowing dress of pale lavender silk, her long, dark hair pinned up with a simple jade hairpin. She left her eight terrifying, Half-Step Martial Emperor guards stationed at the outer gates, feeling entirely safe within the familiar, welcoming walls of her friend’s estate.
She was guided into a beautiful, open-air dining pavilion surrounded by glowing spirit-lanterns and sweet-smelling night-blooming jasmine.
Ling Ying rushed forward to greet her, pulling the pristine Princess into a warm, genuine hug. “Sister Gu! I am so glad you could come. Alaric has been preparing for hours.”
Naturally, Alaric had absolutely no intention of doing something as mundane and menial as cooking a meal for Gu Ling himself. In his arrogant, predatory eyes, the haughty Princess of the Gu Clan did not deserve the effort of his own hands. The spectacular, mouth-watering feast that covered the low wooden table had actually been meticulously, expertly cooked by Ya Su and his disguised maids, utilizing rare spirit-beast meats and high-grade, energy-infused spices.
Alaric stepped into the pavilion carrying a tray of warmed wine, wiping his hands on a pristine white towel to complete the illusion. He flashed Gu Ling a devastatingly handsome, welcoming smile.
“Princess,” Alaric greeted her, taking his seat beside Ling Ying. “I hope your palate is prepared. I fear my humble skills cannot match the grand feasts of the Gu Clan, but I poured my heart into these dishes.”
“If Sister Ying’s praises are to be believed, I am in for a profound treat, Alaric,” Gu Ling smiled, her usually cold, untouchable demeanor completely relaxed.
They began to eat. Gu Ling’s eyes widened in genuine, unadulterated delight as she tasted the incredibly tender, perfectly spiced spirit-beast meat. It was, without exaggeration, some of the most exquisite food she had ever consumed. She praised Alaric profusely, completely unaware that she was complimenting the culinary skills of the Golden Vixen of the Northern Prefecture.
As the feast progressed, Ling Ying continually poured copious amounts of rich, highly potent spirit-wine into Gu Ling’s cup.
“Drink, Sister Gu! Tonight, we celebrate your new connections with the Imperial Court, and our lasting friendship!” Ling Ying cheered, raising her own glass.
Gu Ling, feeling incredibly happy and safe, did not utilize her Battle Aura to purge the alcohol. She wanted to feel the warmth, to let the heavy, suffocating burdens of her Ancient Clan slip away for just one evening. She drank heartily, matching Ling Ying cup for cup.
As the hours passed and the plates were cleared, the potent alcohol took a significant toll. Gu Ling’s fair, flawless cheeks were flushed a deep, beautiful pink. Her posture, usually as rigid as a sword, slouched comfortably against the silk cushions. She laughed freely, her crystalline voice echoing in the pavilion as she openly vented about the headache-inducing, catty bickering of the Imperial Women from the night before, completely dropping her guard.
Alaric watched her intently, his ruby eyes tracking the heavy, relaxed sway of her body and the glazed, unfocused look in her ethereal eyes.
The fish was firmly on the hook. It was time to reel her in.
“You look incredibly tense despite the wine, Sister Gu,” Ling Ying suddenly noted, perfectly executing the script Alaric was feeding directly into her mind. She reached over and gently massaged Gu Ling’s shoulder. “The Imperial Women are exhausting, I know. But I also sense a deep, restricting tension in your upper meridians. It is stunting the natural flow of your Battle Aura.”
Gu Ling sighed, rolling her neck, a soft, involuntary groan escaping her lips. “The cultivation techniques of the Gu Clan are incredibly demanding. The required compression of Qi places immense, constant stress on the physical pathways. It is a burden I have borne since childhood.”
“It does not have to be,” Ling Ying smiled brightly, her eyes shining with absolute trust as she looked at Alaric. “Alaric possesses a profound, ancient knowledge of the body’s energetic pathways. He knows an incredibly rare, highly specialized meridian-broadening massage technique. It relieves the physical stress completely, and more importantly… it expands the meridians, allowing you to cultivate significantly more Battle Qi during each session. It could enhance your talent even further.”
Gu Ling’s hazy, alcohol-laced eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Enhance my talent? But my foundation has already been solidified by the clan elders. To broaden the meridians at this stage requires heaven-grade medicinal pellets.”
“Pills are a blunt instrument,” Alaric spoke up, his voice a low, soothing, and incredibly hypnotic rumble. He shifted closer to her, his presence warm and commanding. “They force the pathways open. My technique utilizes precise, localized pressure to coax the meridians into naturally expanding. It releases the stagnant, compressed Qi that builds up over years of intense, high-level martial practice.”
Gu Ling looked at the handsome man, her competitive, martial instincts warring with her aristocratic modesty. The promise of increasing her Battle Qi capacity, of pushing her already unparalleled talent to even greater heights to ensure she could stand beside Feng Xiao, was an incredibly tempting prospect.
“Is it… is it truly effective?” Gu Ling asked, looking to Ling Ying for confirmation.
“It is miraculous, Sister Gu,” Ling Ying promised fervently, her mind fully believing the fabricated reality. “He performs it on me regularly. My Emerald Gale Battle Aura flows like a raging river now.”
Alaric raised a hand, his expression turning serious and highly professional. “I must warn you, Princess. The technique is intense. To properly expand the primary pathways, I must manipulate the central meridian lines that run across the entire body. This requires me to touch specific, highly sensitive acupoints. Some of these placements are… undeniably inappropriate by the strict, formal standards of courtly etiquette.”
He paused, ensuring his ruby eyes locked onto her hazy gaze. “Furthermore, it is a full-body procedure. Once the Qi flow is stimulated and the expansion begins, you absolutely must not stop me in between. Interrupting the flow mid-process could cause a violent, incredibly painful backlash of your own Battle Aura.”
Gu Ling hesitated. The idea of a man who was not her betrothed touching her body so intimately was scandalous. But she was heavily intoxicated, her judgment severely impaired by the wine and her complete, unwavering trust in Ling Ying, who was sitting right there to chaperone. She was a martialist; the pursuit of power often required discarding mundane modesty.
“I am a cultivator of the Gu Clan,” Gu Ling declared, lifting her chin with a stubborn, slightly drunken pride. “We do not shy away from physical discomfort or medical necessity if it leads to greater strength. I accept your offer, Alaric. Proceed.”
“As you wish, Princess,” Alaric smiled, a dark, hungry glint flashing in his eyes.
He instructed Gu Ling to lie face-down upon the large, plush velvet cushions that covered the pavilion floor. Gu Ling complied, shifting her hips comfortably, her pale lavender silk dress outlining the incredibly elegant, slender curve of her waist and the surprisingly wide, voluptuous flare of her buttocks.
Alaric knelt beside her. He did not immediately dive for her breasts or her groin. He was a master of psychological and physical dismantling.
He began by placing his large, incredibly warm hands flat against her upper back, right between her shoulder blades, over the thick silk of her dress.
Gu Ling jumped slightly at the sudden, intense heat of his palms, but as he began to apply deep, rolling pressure, her body instantly melted. He used his thumbs to firmly knead the tense, rigid muscles along her spine. He channeled a minuscule, barely detectable thread of his magical energy, mimicking the sensation of a soothing, incredibly pure Battle Aura flowing into her skin, artificially relaxing her muscles at a cellular level.
“Oh…” Gu Ling let out a long, shuddering sigh, her eyes fluttering shut. “That is… that is incredibly relieving.”
“Breathe deeply, Princess,” Alaric murmured, his voice a hypnotic cadence in her ear. “Let the stagnant Qi dissipate.”
He worked his way down her back, his strong fingers pressing into the knots and the stressed meridian points. His movements were slow, methodical, and undeniably sensual. As he reached her lower back, his hands deliberately, heavily swept over the upper curves of her wide, luscious buttocks.
Gu Ling gasped, her hips twitching slightly. The touch was far more intimate than she had anticipated, but Ling Ying was sitting right there, calmly sipping tea, entirely unbothered. The alcohol clouded her protests, convincing her it was merely part of the medical procedure.
Within twenty minutes, Gu Ling’s body was running incredibly hot. The combination of the spirit-wine, the sweltering ambient heat of the Yao Clan’s realm, and the intense, friction-heavy massage had caused her to sweat profusely. Her pale lavender dress was becoming damp, clinging uncomfortably to her skin.
“Your body is overheating, Sister Gu,” Ling Ying stated smoothly, stepping forward to kneel on Gu Ling’s other side. “The restrictive fabric of your martial dress is trapping the released Qi. It is dangerous. We must remove it.”
Before Gu Ling could formulate a sluggish protest, Ling Ying’s nimble fingers were already unfastening the intricate silk ties at the back of the lavender dress. With Alaric’s silent, coordinated help, they smoothly slid the heavy outer robes down her arms and over her hips, pulling the garment away entirely.
Gu Ling let out a sharp, breathless gasp as the cool night air hit her flushed skin.
She was now lying on the cushions clad only in her highly intimate, traditional undergarments. She wore a beautifully embroidered, sheer white silk dudou that tied around her neck and back, doing a terrible job of containing the incredibly large, heavy, and exceptionally perky volume of her massive breasts, which were currently squished softly against the velvet. Her lower half was covered only by a pair of tiny, sheer white silk panties that hugged the magnificent, heart-shaped flare of her voluptuous buttocks and the flawless, fair curves of her thighs perfectly.
She looked absolutely breathtaking, incredibly sexy, and entirely vulnerable.
“Is… is this truly necessary?” Gu Ling slurred slightly, her face burning with intense embarrassment, trying to cross her arms over her chest, but finding her limbs incredibly heavy and relaxed.
“It is perfectly normal, Sister Gu,” Ling Ying assured her gently, stroking her hair. “Just let the Qi flow. You are doing wonderfully.”
With the bulky outer garments removed, Alaric’s movements naturally became infinitely bolder, far more aggressive, and intensely erotic.
He straddled the backs of her thighs, his weight pressing her firmly into the cushions. He placed his hands directly onto her bare, sweat-slicked skin. He kneaded the soft, incredibly sensitive flesh of her waist, his thumbs tracing the edges of her sheer white panties. He gripped the lush, full cheeks of her incredibly curvy buttocks, squeezing the fat, pliant flesh with a possessive, kneading rhythm that sent jolts of pure electricity straight to her groin.
“Ah! Alaric… wait…” Gu Ling moaned, her voice pitching up into a breathy, filthy whine that she had never heard herself make before. The sensation of his large, hot hands aggressively fondling her bare ass was overwhelming. She clamped her thighs together tightly, trying to suppress the heavy, dripping wetness that was rapidly soaking the crotch of her silk panties. “That is… mmhn… that is too low…”
“I am expanding the Sacral Meridian Root, Princess,” Alaric lied flawlessly, his voice dark and demanding. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her shoulder blade. “You must not stop the process. You must surrender to the flow.”
Gu Ling whimpered, turning her head into the cushions. Her mind was entirely lightheaded, completely intoxicated by the nectar and the sheer, mind-melting physical pleasure his hands were invoking. Her rigid, aristocratic defenses had utterly collapsed. She couldn’t stop him, and deep within her clouded, repressed mind, a dark, shameful part of her absolutely didn’t want him to stop. She let out a series of soft, continuous, highly erotic moans that echoed in the quiet pavilion.
“Oh gods… yes… it feels… so strange…” Gu Ling panted, her hips instinctively bucking backward, pressing her plump ass deeper into his massaging hands.
“You are carrying so much tension in your chest, Sister,” Ling Ying noted, her voice incredibly calm as she reached over.
Without a word of warning, Ling Ying untied the silk strings at the back of Gu Ling’s neck and waist. She pulled the sheer white dudou away completely, tossing it aside. A moment later, Alaric’s hands slipped beneath the waistband of her sheer white panties, expertly hooking his fingers into the silk and pulling them smoothly down her long, fair legs, discarding them onto the floor.
The pristine White Moonlight of the Gu Clan, the untouchable goddess that Feng Xiao was currently preparing to wage war against the heavens to claim, was now completely, utterly naked, splayed out on the cushions like a sacrificial offering.
Alaric did not hesitate to fully enjoy the spectacular feast before him.
He rolled her onto her back. Gu Ling gasped, her arms flying up to cover her face in sheer, drunken embarrassment, leaving her magnificent body entirely exposed.
Her massive, incredibly heavy breasts spilled outward across her chest, the pale, flawless flesh heaving rapidly. The large, highly sensitive pink areolas were flushed a deep crimson, the nipples fully erect and completely stiff from the cool air and her overwhelming arousal. Her stomach was incredibly flat and toned, leading down to the lush, dark triangle of hair and the incredibly slick, dripping, swollen pink lips of her pussy that were fully visible between her spread thighs.
Alaric leaned forward. He didn’t use his hands this time. He bypassed the pretense of a massage entirely.
He lowered his head and captured her left breast in his mouth.
“SCREEEEAM!” Gu Ling shrieked, her back arching so violently her spine lifted entirely off the cushions.
Alaric sucked fiercely on the massive, heavy globe of flesh. His hot, wet tongue swirled aggressively around her stiff, sensitive pink nipple, before he clamped his teeth down and bit the hardened nub sharply.
“AHH! NO! ALARIC! STOP!” Gu Ling cried out, her eyes flying open in absolute shock and overwhelming, explosive pleasure. The bite sent a jolt of liquid fire straight to her core. She thrashed her head wildly. “Sister Ying! This is… this is wrong! He is biting me! Make him stop!”
Ling Ying merely leaned forward, her face hovering above Gu Ling’s. She stroked the Princess’s sweaty forehead with a soothing, maternal gesture, her emerald eyes completely devoid of jealousy.
“Shh, Sister Gu. Do not fight it,” Ling Ying whispered, her voice a hypnotic, calming balm that conflicted violently with the intense, erotic assault happening to Gu Ling’s body. “It is perfectly normal. He is merely utilizing extreme stimulation to force the upper meridian channels to burst open. You want to be stronger for your future, don’t you? Let the Qi flow. Let him heal you.”
“But… ah! Oh gods! His mouth…” Gu Ling sobbed, her protests dying in her throat as Alaric switched his attention to her other breast, aggressively kneading the soft, heavy flesh with his hands while sucking the nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking it relentlessly.
The alcohol, the overwhelming, undeniable physical ecstasy, and Ling Ying’s continuous, reassuring presence completely shattered her will to resist. She was an Ancient Clan heiress, yet she found herself utterly paralyzed, trapped in a paradox of aristocratic shame and primal, animalistic need.
Alaric moved upward, his large hands pinning her wrists to the cushions above her head. He hovered over her flushed, tear-streaked face, his ruby eyes burning with dark, conquering lust.
“You are so tense, my beautiful Princess,” Alaric growled, his face inches from hers. “Let me help you relax completely.”
He crashed his lips down onto hers. It was not a gentle, romantic kiss. It was a brutal, overwhelming, claiming assault. He forced her lips apart, his tongue shoving deeply into her mouth, tasting the sweet, potent nectar and the salt of her tears. He devoured her mouth, swallowing her muffled, desperate moans entirely, his body pressing heavily against her naked, incredibly voluptuous curves.
Gu Ling’s eyes fluttered shut, her mind finally, entirely surrendering to the void. She couldn’t resist at all. The pristine, untouchable princess melted completely into the plush velvet cushions, her body writhing and shivering in absolute, naked ecstasy under the hands and mouth of the Archmage, completely unaware that this was merely the prelude to her absolute, inescapable ruination.
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