The world seemed to pause.
Suspended in the echo of Song Qing's sharp intake of breath, the aftermath of overwhelming pleasure.
Qian Renxue slowly lifted her head, her lips moist, her purple eyes wide and luminous, searching his face.
Her blonde hair was slightly mussed, clinging damply to her temples. Her cheeks were flushed a deep rose. She looked utterly debauched. And breathtakingly beautiful.
'Did I… Was that… enough?' The question screamed in her mind. 'Was it better? Did I surpass her?' The competitive fire still burned fiercely beneath the surface of her fulfilled desire to please him.
Song Qing stared back, his own breathing ragged, his emerald eyes dark and clouded with lingering sensation.
He felt… drained, yet paradoxically, still intensely wired. The pleasure had been immense, almost shattering. Her eagerness, her focused determination… it was intoxicating.
He shifted slightly, and they both became aware of a startling fact.
Despite the intensity of his release, his erection remained. Hard. Unyielding. Pressed against his own stomach as he lay back.
A gasp escaped Qian Renxue, this time one of pure surprise, quickly followed by a spark of feminine pride.
"Qing… you're still…" she murmured, her gaze dropping down his body, then snapping back to his face, a delighted smirk blooming on her lips. "It seems… my efforts were quite stimulating."
'He's still hard? Even after… Oh, this is… unexpected. And wonderful!' A thrill shot through her. 'Maybe I am better for him.'
Song Qing looked down himself, a flicker of surprise crossing his own features, quickly replaced by a slow, predatory smile that mirrored hers, but held a different weight. A possessive weight.
"Stimulating," he agreed, his voice a low, rough purr. "And incomplete."
He reached out, his hand closing gently but firmly around her upper arm.
"My turn, Renxue," he stated softly. It wasn't a request.
Qian Renxue's breath hitched in anticipation. The dominance she craved was returning, washing over her. She nodded mutely, her body already trembling with a fresh wave of need.
'Yes… Yes, Master… Show me…'
With effortless strength, Song Qing guided her, shifting her position until she was lying beneath him on the plush sofa once more. He supported himself on his elbows, looming over her, trapping her in his intense gaze.
His eyes swept over her body, lingering on the flushed skin, the still-taut peaks of her breasts, the gentle curve of her stomach. He saw her not just as Qian Renxue, the elegant Angelic Scion, but as his, claimed, willing, beautiful.
'She offered herself so completely,' his thoughts raced, desire surging anew, hot and demanding. 'Gave me such pleasure. Now… now I'll return the favour. Explore every inch. Mark her. Make her understand who she belongs to in this moment.'
Qian Renxue watched him watch her, her skin prickling under his intense scrutiny. Anticipation coiled low in her belly. What would he do? How far would he push? She shivered, not from cold, but from sheer, exhilarating expectation.
He lowered his head, his lips finding hers again. The kiss was different this time. Deeper. Hungrier. More demanding from the outset. His tongue plundered her mouth, a clear assertion of ownership.
She met his passion with her own, kissing him back fiercely, her hands finding their way back into his bright blue hair, gripping tightly.
His lips left hers, trailing fire down her jawline, onto the sensitive skin of her neck. He nipped gently, then laved the spot with his tongue, tasting her skin.
Qian Renxue gasped, her head tilting back, exposing her throat further to his ministrations.
"Qing…"
He moved lower, across her collarbone, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses. His hand slid down, cupping one perfect, full breast. It felt heavy, soft, intoxicatingly feminine in his palm.
He remembered the sensation with Bibi Dong. The way her breath had hitched. The way her eyes had darkened.
'Renxue's are just as beautiful,' he thought, a possessive heat flooding him. 'Fuller, perhaps. Just as responsive.'
He lowered his head further, his lips closing over a taut, pink nipple.
Qian Renxue cried out softly, her back arching instinctively off the sofa.
He suckled firmly, drawing the peak deep into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, mimicking the feeding instinct of an infant, yet charging it with raw adult desire.
Her hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in slightly without conscious thought. Moans tumbled from her lips, breathy and uncontrolled.
"Ah… Master… please…"
He switched his attention to the other breast, giving it the same devoted, intense worship. He laved the entire areola, circled the peak with his tongue, then suckled hard again, eliciting another sharp gasp.
Then, he did something more.
He bit down. Gently at first, just enough pressure to make her jolt. Then slightly harder, marking the pale, creamy skin just above the areola.
"Ngh!" Qian Renxue's eyes flew open, shock warring with a spike of intense pleasure-pain.
He lifted his head, looking at the faint red mark beginning to bloom on her perfect skin. A mark he had made.
"Mine," he growled softly, his emerald eyes blazing with possessive fire.
He lowered his head again, licking the mark gently, soothing the slight sting, before moving to leave another, similar mark on the swell of her other breast.
Qian Renxue was breathing in short, sharp gasps now, her body alive with sensation, overwhelmed by his possessive actions. 'He's marking me… Like I'm his… Oh…' The thought sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between her legs.
He didn't stop at her breasts. His lips trailed lower, kissing the soft skin of her ribcage, then moving onto the smooth expanse of her flat stomach. He nuzzled her navel, flicking his tongue inside briefly, making her giggle despite the intensity of the moment.
His hands caressed her sides, her hips, learning her shape through touch as well as sight.
Then, his hands grasped her hips firmly.
"Turn over," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for refusal.
Excited, submissive, Qian Renxue obeyed instantly, rolling onto her stomach, presenting her back and rounded buttocks to him. She rested her cheek on the cool velvet of the sofa, her heart pounding.
Song Qing gazed down at her. The elegant curve of her spine, the vulnerable nape of her neck, the pale, full globes of her backside.
His palm connected with her flesh.
Smack!
Harder than before. The sound echoed slightly. The skin instantly flushed pink.
Qian Renxue yelped, burying her face in the cushion, her body tensing.
Smack! Smack! Two more followed in quick succession, stinging, authoritative.
"Did you enjoy questioning your Master earlier, Renxue?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft, yet carrying clearly.
"N-no, Master," she whimpered, the sound muffled by the sofa. A thrill, sharp and forbidden, shot through her. This was more intense than the first time. He wasn't just playing now; he was asserting.
"Did you learn your lesson?" he pressed, his hand resting possessively on one smarting cheek.
"Yes! Yes, Master, I learned!" she cried out, a mixture of submission and desperate arousal.
He leaned down, pressing kisses to the reddened skin, licking the faint welts his hand had left. The contrast between the sting and the soothing wet heat of his mouth was almost unbearable.
She moaned, shifting restlessly beneath him.
He spent several moments worshipping her backside, alternating between firm grips, possessive kneading, light kisses, and the occasional sharp, stinging slap that kept her senses heightened, her submission absolute.
Finally, he gently urged her to turn back over, to face him once more.
She did so slowly, her body humming with sensation, her skin flushed pink in various places, faint red marks blooming on her breasts. She looked thoroughly ravished. Utterly desirable.
They stared at each other for a long moment, breathing heavily, the air thick with raw sensuality and the lingering power dynamic.
Qian Renxue reached up, her fingers trembling slightly as she traced the mark on her own breast. Awe, excitement, and a deep, possessive pleasure filled her eyes.
"Master…" she breathed, her voice husky, filled with emotion. "That felt… incredible. Being yours… like this…"
He leaned down, capturing her lips in another deep, soul-searing kiss.
When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, Qian Renxue looked at him, her purple eyes burning with a new resolve. The competitive spark flared brighter than ever.
"Mother…" she began, her voice gaining strength, filled with fierce determination. "She only used her hands. Her mouth."
She pushed herself up slightly, kneeling before him again, her gaze locked onto his still-prominent erection.
"That's good," she conceded, her eyes flashing. "Very good."
She paused, leaning closer, her voice dropping to an intimate, conspiratorial whisper. "But I want to give you more, Qing. I want to go further. I want to be… better for you."
Song Qing watched her, intrigued, aroused beyond measure by her words, by the fierce possessiveness and competitive spirit driving her. What more could she mean?
Qian Renxue didn't wait for him to ask. She reached out, gently taking his hardening length in one hand, stroking it slowly, reverently. With her other hand, she gestured towards her own magnificent breasts, which were still flushed and marked from his attention.
"Let me use these, Qing," she whispered, her voice thick with promise, her cheeks coloring slightly at her own boldness, but her eyes unwavering. "Let me satisfy you… with all of me."
Song Qing's breath caught. The offer, so direct, so unexpected, so incredibly erotic, sent a fresh wave of fire through his veins. The image flashed in his mind: his hardness buried in the soft valley between her full, perfect breasts.
He gave a slow, deliberate nod, his eyes never leaving hers. Acceptance. Command.
A triumphant, utterly sensual smile lit up Qian Renxue's face. This was it. This was something she was certain her mother hadn't offered him. A way to truly surpass her, to bind him closer through a unique pleasure only she could provide right now.
She shifted her position fluidly, gracefully kneeling astride his hips, careful to avoid direct contact below, her body hovering just above his. The heat radiating between them was immense.
She took his erection in both hands, guiding the smooth, heated tip towards the valley between her breasts.
"Like this, Master?" she murmured, looking down, her blonde hair cascading forward, partially shielding her focused expression.
She carefully pressed her breasts together, enveloping the head of his shaft in her soft, warm flesh.
Song Qing groaned, his head falling back against the cushions, his eyes closing involuntarily at the sheer intensity of the new sensation. It was incredible. Softness, yet firm pressure. Enveloping heat. Utterly different from a hand or a mouth.
Qian Renxue watched his reaction, her heart pounding with triumph and arousal. She began to move, slowly at first, sliding her upper body up and down, rubbing her breasts along his rigid length.
Her hands helped maintain the pressure, cupping her own breasts, pushing them tighter around him, increasing the friction, the exquisite sensation.
"Tighter, Renxue," Song Qing gritted out, his hands coming up to grip her hips, steadying her, pulling her down slightly harder against him.
"Yes, Master," she breathed, obeying instantly, increasing the pressure, quickening her rhythm.
The soft skin, the heat, the friction… it was building rapidly, pushing him towards another precipice. He watched her, her face flushed with exertion and pleasure, her eyes glazed over, lost in the act of giving him this unique, intense pleasure.
She was marking him now, in her own way. Claiming him through an intimacy she believed surpassed her mother's.
The sight, the sensation, the sheer boldness of her offer and her determined execution… it was pushing Song Qing relentlessly towards release, binding them together in a tangle of dominance, submission, competition, and overwhelming sensual pleasure. The tension in the room was thick enough to taste, coiling tighter and tighter with every silken slide of her flesh against his.
The world exploded in a wave of pure sensation for Song Qing.
A guttural groan tore from his throat, his body arching instinctively, hips pressing upward into the soft, yielding pressure of Qian Renxue's breasts.
His hands tightened on her hips, fingers digging slightly into her soft skin, anchoring himself as release washed over him in shuddering waves.
Qian Renxue gasped, feeling the intensity of his climax against her skin, the heat, the tremors that wracked his powerful frame. A fierce, possessive triumph surged through her. She had done this. With her body. In a way her mother hadn't.
'Mine,' a voice whispered fiercely in her soul. 'He is mine in this moment.'
As the last shudders subsided, Song Qing collapsed back against the sofa cushions, utterly spent, breathing heavily.
Qian Renxue slowly, reluctantly, eased the pressure, sliding carefully off his lap to kneel beside him. Her own body was slick with his release and her own perspiration, her breasts flushed and tingling.
She looked down at him, his eyes closed, his handsome face relaxed in the aftermath of pleasure, his bright blue hair slightly damp against his forehead. Tenderness swelled in her chest, unexpected and powerful, mingling with the lingering thrill of their encounter.
He opened his eyes, his emerald gaze finding hers. Still clouded with pleasure, but softer now. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of blonde hair from her cheek.
"Renxue…" he breathed, his voice rough, husky. "That was… beyond incredible."
A genuine, dazzling smile lit up her face, chasing away the last vestiges of competitive calculation, leaving only warmth and shy pride. "Was it truly… good, Qing?"
"Good?" He let out a soft, breathless laugh. "It was… mind-blowing." He gently pulled her closer, until she hesitantly settled beside him, half-leaning against his side. His arm came around her instinctively, pulling her into the curve of his body.
She rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart beneath her ear. It was a surprisingly intimate position, born from shared exhaustion and overwhelming sensation.
He stroked her hair gently, his touch light, almost reverent now. A stark contrast to the fierce dominance he'd displayed moments before.
'This closeness…' Qian Renxue thought, closing her eyes, savoring the feeling. 'This quiet comfort after the storm… is this part of it too? Is this something else Mother doesn't have with him?'
They lay like that for several long minutes, simply breathing together, the silence filled only by the sound of their hearts and the soft rustle of fabric as they shifted slightly. The charged energy in the room softened, mellowing into a warm, intimate glow.
But the fire hadn't been extinguished, merely banked.
Song Qing tilted her chin up, his gaze searching hers. The softness was still there, but a familiar spark rekindled in his emerald depths.
He leaned in, kissing her again. This kiss wasn't the demanding claiming from before, nor the initial tentative exploration. It was slow, deep, full of burgeoning affection and rekindled desire.
It spoke of appreciation. Of fascination. Of a connection that went beyond the physical acts they had just shared.
Qian Renxue melted into it, responding with equal tenderness, her arms winding around his neck.
When they broke apart, she looked at him, her purple eyes luminous. "Qing…"
He silenced her with another kiss, this one deepening quickly, passion flaring anew. His hand slid down her back, tracing the elegant curve of her spine, before settling possessively on her hip once more.
The dominant edge returned, but tempered now with a palpable affection.
He gently urged her onto her back again, but this time, he followed her down, covering her body with his own, careful to keep his weight mostly supported on his elbows. Their skin met, slick and warm.
He didn't speak commands now. He simply looked at her, his eyes asking permission, even as his hands began a new exploration.
He kissed the marks he'd left on her breasts, his touch almost worshipful. "Beautiful," he murmured against her skin.
He kissed her stomach again, lower this time, his fingers trailing tantalizingly close to the nest of blonde curls at the juncture of her thighs.
She gasped, her hips lifting instinctively off the sofa.
'He wouldn't… would he?' The thought was both terrifying and wildly exciting. It felt even bolder, more intimate than anything else they had done.
His fingers brushed against her, light as a feather, eliciting a full-body jolt. Then, his lips followed where his fingers had been, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against her hipbone, then lower, nuzzling against the outer curls.
Qian Renxue cried out, her hands flying to his hair, gripping tightly. "Qing! Master!"
He lifted his head slightly, his eyes locking with hers. They burned with intense focus, with undeniable desire, but also… with a question.
She could only nod, biting her lip, completely overwhelmed.
He lowered his head again. This time, there was no hesitation.
His tongue parted her folds, finding the sensitive pearl hidden within.
Qian Renxue screamed, a raw sound of pure, unadulterated shock and pleasure. Her entire body convulsed. Nothing, nothing had prepared her for this. It was leagues beyond anything she had imagined, an intimacy so profound, so overwhelming, it stole her breath.
He was utterly focused, relentless in his worship. His tongue worked magic, licking, circling, suckling gently, driving her higher and higher with an intensity that bordered on unbearable.
Her dominant Master was now utterly devoted to her pleasure. The contrast was dizzying, intoxicating.
She lost all sense of time, of place. There was only the spiraling tension within her, the exquisite torture of his mouth, his name tumbling from her lips in broken moans.
"Please… Qing… oh… Master…"
He didn't stop until she shattered, her body convulsing beneath him, crying out his name as waves of pure ecstasy washed over her, leaving her limp, trembling, and utterly undone.
He moved back up slowly, kissing her stomach, her breasts, her throat, finally capturing her lips once more. The kiss was soft, reassuring. He gently wiped the tears of pleasure from her cheeks with his thumb.
"Better?" he whispered, his eyes searching hers, filled with a warmth that melted her core.
She couldn't speak. She just nodded, clinging to him, burying her face in his shoulder, feeling cherished and completely claimed in a way that transcended simple dominance.
'He did that… for me…' The thought resonated deep within her. 'He worshipped me.'
They rested again, tangled together, their breathing slowly returning to normal. This time, the silence felt even deeper, more profound.
Hours seemed to melt away in that room. The light outside the grand window shifted, softening from afternoon gold to the deeper hues of twilight. The ornate lamps within the chamber cast long shadows, creating an atmosphere of seclusion, of a world contained solely within those four walls.
Their intimacy continued, evolving further.
There was playful exploration. Qian Renxue, emboldened by his devotion, grew bolder herself. She explored his body with newfound confidence, tracing the hard lines of his muscles, kissing the expanse of his chest, nipping playfully at his earlobe.
She straddled his lap again, not for penetration, but simply for closeness, rubbing her core against his thigh, reveling in the friction, the shared heat, watching his eyes darken with renewed desire.
"You like this, Qing?" she'd whisper, teasing him now, reclaiming a sliver of control in their intricate dance.
"You know I do," he'd growl back, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her closer, grinding lightly against her, letting her feel his hardness pressing against her softness.
They used their hands again, sometimes simultaneously, sometimes taking turns, learning each other's responses with focused intensity. He discovered the exact pressure that made her gasp, the spot behind her knee that made her shiver. She learned the way he liked his length stroked, the pattern of his breathing as he neared his edge.
There were moments of surprising tenderness woven between the acts of passion. Lying side-by-side, simply holding hands, fingers interlaced. Long moments of uninterrupted eye contact, conveying emotions words couldn't capture.
"Qing," she murmured once, tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertip. "Your feelings… for Mother… and for me…" She hesitated, the question less competitive now, more vulnerable.
He looked down at her, his expression serious. "They are different, Renxue," he said softly, honestly. "My connection with your mother… it is complex. Deeply rooted. But what is happening here… with you…" He paused, searching for the right words. "It's… raw. Intense. Something entirely… ours."
He cupped her cheek. "Don't compare, Renxue. Just… be here. With me."
His reassurance, though not a full declaration, soothed a part of her she hadn't realized was still aching. It felt genuine. It felt real.
They talked softly about other things too, snippets of their lives outside these walls, pressures they faced, moments of loneliness. Finding an unexpected solace, a confidante, in the midst of their forbidden passion.
The earlier dominance and submission hadn't vanished, but it had become layered with trust, affection, and a surprising degree of romantic tenderness. He would still issue soft commands, she would still address him as Master in moments of peak arousal, but it felt less like a game and more like an intrinsic part of their unique connection.
Finally, a deep, pleasant exhaustion began to settle over them. The fiery energy ebbed, replaced by a profound sense of satiation and peace. Kisses became softer, touches more lingering, aimed at comfort rather than arousal.
Song Qing gently pulled Qian Renxue fully against his side, tucking her head under his chin. He grabbed the discarded lavender dress from the floor, draping it partially over them like a makeshift blanket.
Her skin was warm against his. He could feel the soft rise and fall of her breathing.
"Stay?" she whispered drowsily, her voice muffled against his chest.
"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured back, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head.
He felt her relax completely against him, her body heavy with impending sleep.
He lay there, holding her, listening to her breathing deepen. The events of the day replayed in his mind. The confession. The teasing. The surprising turn towards dominance. Her bold offer. The hours of intense, uninhibited exploration and connection.
It was overwhelming. Forbidden. Dangerous.
And yet… holding her now, feeling the simple peace of her presence after the storm of their passion… it felt undeniably right. Precious.
He closed his eyes, fatigue finally claiming him. Surrounded by the scent of their intimacy, the lingering warmth of their bodies, Song Qing drifted off to sleep, Qian Renxue held securely in his arms, the complexities of their situation momentarily forgotten in the shared quiet of the night.