The kiss dragged on for endless minutes in the penumbra of the monumental chamber.
Zhì Yuǎn's mouth offered no reprieve. The god's scorching tongue invaded Lín Jié's warm cavity 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 pulled his face back, Lín Jié's voluptuous chest rose and fell in chaotic, desperate heaves. Her lips were scandalously swollen and gleaming with saliva. Her mature neck and pale collarbone displayed wet, purple marks trailing down to the freshly devoured hollow of her armpit, testament to the voracity of that first assault.
"Haa… mnn…" Lín Jié panted, her green, analytical eyes completely fogged over, her bureaucratic sanity drifting 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 belly. His calloused hands seized Lín Jié's thick, mature thighs, spreading them open without a shred of modesty 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 wetness of her virgin Yin gleamed, trickling down her own legs.
Around them, the altar fell silent to witness the spectacle. Yù Méi adjusted herself on the rumpled sheets, resting her chin on her crossed hands, her liquid-gold eyes dilating with carnivorous, impatient voyeurism. Mò Yán and Bái Wǎn aligned themselves sensually beside the youngest; the diplomat pressed her own thighs together beneath her splayed white chemise, a feverish flush painting her pale neck, while the ocean-haired girl watched everything with gentle adoration.
At the headboard, Yù Qíng sighed softly, her head tipped back against the wood, her pale skin gleaming with sweat simply from absorbing the magnitude of what her husband was doing. Huáng Bìyù lay reclined against the priestess's lap, the Dragon warrior panting, completely numbed by the sonic friction dominating the chamber. On the other side, Qīng Yǔ kept her pale hands clutching the blue silk of Yù Qíng's robe in desperation. The Holy Healer's cosmic-blue eyes were glazed on Zhì Yuǎn's thrusts. The dense friction echoing through the room was frying the nerves of both fairies, who simply melted in luxurious empathy, submissive and intoxicated by the absolute power of their god.
Zhì Yuǎn tilted his face and buried his mouth directly into Lín Jié's cleft.
"AAAAH!" The bureaucrat's cry tore through the chamber's heavy air, her hips arching violently against the mattress.
The man's wide, scalding tongue invaded the slippery entrance, savoring the sweet, untouched nectar with animalistic avidity. He was not gentle; his tongue lashed the swollen, hypersensitive nerve, suckling the clitoris with a pressure that instantly fried the woman's stagnant meridians.
"M-Mnnn! Nngh! P-Please…" Lín Jié whimpered, mouth open. Her hands, fingertips stained with ink, blindly clawed into the sheets, pulling the fabric until it tore. She tried to close her legs on pure instinct of sensory self-preservation, but his broad shoulders kept her thighs locked wide open.
The obscene sound of suction, wet flesh, and saliva echoed through the chamber. He devoured her intimacy, drinking the virgin essence with dense, wet sounds that made the bureaucrat's mature body convulse — a noise that blended harmoniously with the wet smacking of the Two Pearls' mouths attending to Yù Qíng's generous 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 cried out, throwing her head back. The muscles of her legs suffered violent spasms, her inner walls contracting hysterically as an inexhaustible torrent of thick Yin gushed directly against her husband's face and mouth. Zhì Yuǎn growled low, swallowing the sweet, volcanic nectar without wasting a single drop, suckling her nerve through the very last tremor of the orgasm.
When the god finally raised his torso, his strong jaw and lips gleamed with the girl's purest fluids.
Lín Jié was completely undone. Her arms lay limp at her sides, her skin gleaming 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 belly.
The shock of that terrifying volume returned a spark of lucidity to the woman. She swallowed hard. The bureaucrat stared at the length threatening to split her in two, and then her wet green irises rose to the man's perfectly sculpted face.
A feverish, scandalous flush overtook the woman's full, mature cheeks. Lín Jié looked away to the side, embarrassed, her ink-stained fingers gripping the sheets with timid restraint, before she turned back to face the abyss of those dark eyes.
"Husband…" Lín Jié's voice came out thin, hoarse, and thick with a shyness she hadn't felt in decades. "What… what is your name?"
The contrast between the woman who had just climaxed scandalously in his mouth and the bureaucratic innocence of that question paralyzed the room for a 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 mild and absurdly affectionate tone disarming the room's tension.
Lín Jié's face erupted in a furious red. She tried to hide her face with her hands, but Zhì Yuǎn did not allow it. He slid his body over hers, pinning the mature woman against the velvet. His giant, scorching member was pressed deliberately against her bare belly — a hot, heavy, dense friction that made the secretary gasp, her Yin throbbing and dripping even more at the implication that it would never fit inside her.
He pulled her hands away from her face. The god's warm mouth descended, distributing short, wet, possessive kisses across her flushed cheeks, her jaw, and her nose.
"Zhì Yuǎn," he whispered against her trembling lips, authority and devotion fusing in every syllable. "Carve it into your heart, Lín Jié. Because I will make certain to brand that name into every millimeter of your body tonight."
Her green eyes dilated in pure, enamored stupor.
He did not wait for a response. Guiding the wet head of his shaft against her drenched cleft, Zhì Yuǎn pushed.
The impact of the broken barrier made Lín Jié choke.
"AAHH!" her back arched violently. The invasion was colossal, the girth stretching the untouched flesh to its absolute limit, a pressure that threatened to tear through her insides.
But before a cry of pain could form, Zhì Yuǎn's large, calloused hand pressed flat directly against her bare lower abdomen.
Dense, golden Primordial Qi flowed from his palm into her womb. The thermal massage was surgical. Where the tear and burning of the physical invasion existed, the volcanic, numbing heat of his energy melted the nerves, transforming the agony into an avalanche of anesthetic pleasure.
The shock of the relief and the absurd fullness of being filled to the cervix fried Lín Jié's nervous system in the same millisecond. The first thrust had not even finished, and the third orgasm swallowed her whole.
"AAAAAH! ZHÌ YUǍN!" his name was screamed at full lung capacity, her voice tearing through her throat in a strangled roar. The woman's inner walls convulsed like an iron vise around his shaft, milking him hysterically as nectar flooded the bed.
He began to move.
Slow at first. Long, measured thrusts, pulling back almost to the tip before sinking to the hilt with a dense impact. Slap. Slap. The sound of wet flesh colliding dominated the chamber. He allowed the woman's voluptuous musculature to mold itself to his ridiculous width.
The spectacle of that invasion fed the collective furnace. Yù Méi panted heavily, rubbing her own thighs together as she watched the bureaucrat be split open. Reclined against the pillows right beside her, Mò Yán bit her lower lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Bái Wǎn was nestled perfectly against the diplomat's side; the young woman's large, ocean eyes overflowed with gentle, eager lust, glazed on the husband's thrusts, while one of her small, pale hands kneaded and massaged with fascination one of Mò Yán's colossal breasts. Provoked by her younger sister's warm touch and intoxicated by the dense sound of flesh colliding, the restrained flower could not resist; Mò Yán's own hand rose to crush and punish her other full breast over the splayed white chemise, a feverish, sweaty flush descending down her neck.
Yù Qíng observed the carnal massacre with a sadic, feverish smile, her pale body contracting involuntarily with each dense impact that echoed through the chamber. Unable to cope with the sonic friction and the crushing radiation of that Yang alone, the Two Pearls curled like devoted shadows around the priestess. Huáng Bìyù kept her sweaty face buried against Yù Qíng's thigh, the warrior's strong shoulders trembling in spasms of repressed lust. On the other side, Qīng Yǔ panted with closed eyes, her fingers clawed into the scarlet sheets until the silk tore. The empire's ancient legends had been reduced to entranced spectators, melting in pure submission beneath the scent of sandalwood and ozone as their god obliterated the ink woman.
"Mnn… husband… ahhn… yes…" Lín Jié whimpered, drooling into her own pillow, her thick thighs spreading wider and wider to receive him, her mind drifting in a dense haze of sandalwood and lust.
The rhythm intensified. He hammered her core with merciless precision, his Yang striking her pure Yin in a maddening friction. Two more successive orgasms crushed the ink woman. She wept, eyes rolled back, fingers clawed into the ruined sheets, her entire body dissolved into a puddle of sweat and continuous pleasure.
"Turn over," Zhì Yuǎn growled, the Hunger in his eyes darkening the penumbra.
He withdrew with a wet, sucking sound. Lín Jié let out a pathetic whimper at the loss of warmth. Without any delicacy, his large hands seized the woman's full hips and flipped her face-down. He pulled her by the knees, forcing the bureaucrat onto all fours on the bed.
Lín Jié's mature, voluptuous body was arched upward, her pink, drenched cave splayed wide open and gleaming with fluids in the darkness.
Zhì Yuǎn knelt behind her. In a fluid, crushing movement, he sank his shaft in one single stroke, driving himself into 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 armpit, his calloused hand sliding through the deep, generous 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 against his rigid chest, forcing her to kneel upright with her torso erect against him.
The god's right hand descended, pressing flat and heavy directly against Lín Jié's belly.
The rhythm that 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 splitting through her inner depths and the hand crushing her belly from outside — created a vacuum of agonizing pleasure directly in the woman's womb.
"AAHH! AAH! ZHÌ YUǍN!" Lín Jié roared, tears flying from her face. Her mind went blank. His hand on her throat kept her in place, anchoring the voluptuous body thrashing frantically under the collision. "Break me… fill me completely… 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 scorching tongue devouring her cries while his pelvis 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 quick 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 insides. She moaned against his mouth — a long, liquid, babbling sound that lasted for 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 superdense Yang poured deeply into the secretary's womb. The colossal, scalding seed filled her belly in unceasing jets, bathing her insides for minutes on end.
Lín Jié panted, eyes rolled back, feeling her belly swell with the liquid fire consuming her from the inside out. The stagnant bureaucrat had died; the ink woman who emerged from that furnace — overflowing with the nectar and seed of her god — belonged, irrevocably, to that altar alone.