Shameless Immortal: Emperor of Ten Thousand Beauties

Shen Yu let out a low, guttural growl as Xu Yi’s throat tightened around him. The sensation was unlike anything he had felt from the others, it wasn’t merely a physical act, it was a biological feat.

Her Abyssal Flood Dragon bloodline allowed her internal muscles to ripple and pulse with a serpentine rhythm, constricting and relaxing in waves that felt like a thousand tiny hands drawing him deeper into her depths.

Glk.

"Look at this," Shen Yu rumbled, his hand reaching down to tangle in Xu Yi’s brown hair, his knuckles brushing against her flushed cheek. "You truly are something, aren’t you? So greedy. So perfectly built to be ruined."

Xu Yi did not pull away.

Instead, she looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of primal lust and absolute, submissive devotion.

She took him deeper, her nose pressing against his lower abdomen, her hands reaching back to grip her own heels as she offered herself up completely. She wanted him to see everything, how his size stretched her, how her body moulded itself to his every demand as though it had been designed for precisely this purpose.

"You like being my toy, don’t you, Yi’er?" Shen Yu asked, his voice dropping into a dark, predatory purr.

Xu Yi could not speak, but the muffled, pleading moan that vibrated against his length was answer enough.

Mmmph.

She began to bob her head with a frantic, desperate pace, her tongue swirling around him with feline agility, worshipping every inch as though each one were a sacred text she had been waiting her whole life to read.

Shlick. Shlick. Slurp.

"Good girl," Shen Yu praised, his hand tightening in her hair. "Then let’s see just how much that dragon’s throat can take."

He did not hold back. He gripped her head with both hands, fingers pressing into her scalp, and began to move with a raw, barbaric rhythm. Each thrust was deep and uncompromising, the head of his cock driving into the back of her throat with a dull, wet insistence.

Glk. Glk. Glk.

Xu Yi’s eyes rolled back, her body trembling with a mixture of overwhelm and agonising pleasure. The serpentine pressure of her internal muscles only made him more aggressive, a predator meeting a challenge and rising to meet it entirely.

Shlick. Glk. Slurp. Glk.

He looked sideways at Lixue and Meng Yan, who watched with wide, glassy eyes. "This," he said, his voice entirely steady despite the rough rhythm of his hips, "is how a queen bows. This is how you show your master that you belong to him."

Lixue’s breath hitched as she watched Xu Yi’s face turn a deep, bruised crimson, her throat working overtime to accommodate the violent intrusion.

Meng Yan felt a surge of heat between her legs, her jealousy turning into a frantic need to be next.

Shen Yu’s pace became relentless, his golden eyes blazing with sovereign intensity. He could feel the dragon’s blood pulsing in her throat, the way her body fought to remain present under the full weight of his power. He surged forward one final time, burying himself to the root.

Glk.

"Take it all," he said, low and absolute.

The torrent came. Hot and heavy and pressurised, flooding her mouth and throat in great surging waves, and Xu Yi swallowed in rapid, desperate succession just to keep pace.

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

He kept her there, hands unyielding, until the very last of it had been given. When he finally eased his grip, Xu Yi slumped forward, her forehead coming to rest against his thigh, her chest heaving as she dragged in ragged, gasping breaths.

Hah. Hah. Hah.

A thin silver thread escaped the corner of her mouth, tracing a slow line down her chin. She looked up at him, her face a portrait of absolute ruin and absolute adoration, and somehow both at once.

"Master," she whispered, her voice a shredded, beautiful wreck. "Thank you. For using me."

Shen Yu’s expression remained composed, the dark mask of sovereign satisfaction sitting naturally on his features. He reached down, catching a stray, glistening drop from her chin with his thumb. He brought it to her lips with a casual, unhurried ease, a silent command for her to savor his mark.

"You did well, Yi’er," he murmured, his voice a smooth, dangerous melody. "You might just be the most remarkable thing I have found yet."

Xu Yi took his thumb into her mouth with a soft, needy moan. Shen Yu didn’t pull away; instead, he slid a second finger past her teeth, hooking her tongue and pinning it down.

She let out a muffled, desperate sound of worship, her eyes rolling back as she licked and swirled her tongue around his fingers, her gaze fixed on him with the fanatical reverence of a devotee before their god.

Shen Yu played with her mouth with an indifferent, mocking tenderness, his fingers tracing the internal curve of her dragon-born throat, reminding her exactly who owned her breath.

The sight of Xu Yi reduced to a panting, subservient creature was the final ember Meng Yan needed. The heat in her gut flared into an uncontrollable blaze, her restraint finally snapping like dry kindling.

Unable to contain the feverish heat that had been building in her throughout, she prowled forward, eyes fixed on his with an urgency she had stopped trying to conceal.

She pushed Shen Yu back into the silk pillows and climbed over him in one fluid, desperate motion, her fingers wrapping around his length and aligning him before she sank her hips downward with reckless abandon.

Squelch.

His girth met no resistance, burying itself to the hilt in a single, devastating stroke.

"Ahh—!" Meng Yan’s spine bowed sharply, her entire body shuddering as she took the full weight of him. Her breath came out in a jagged, high sob of pure, overwhelmed ecstasy.

Shen Yu’s hands rose to claim her breasts, thumbs rolling her nipples with deliberate, proprietary pressure. "Impatient, Yan’er."

Breathless and trembling, she looked down at him through the curtain of her fallen hair. "Watching her take you like that," she managed, "I couldn’t wait any longer. Just rest, my lord. Let me serve you."

He answered with a sharp pinch, a silent, unambiguous instruction to proceed.

Mm.

Meng Yan began to move.

Squelch. Slap. Squelch.

Her hips rose and fell with a rhythmic, devoted momentum, each downward stroke a complete surrender, her internal walls clenching around him as though trying to draw him deeper than physics should have allowed. She was not merely riding him, she was worshipping him, every motion an offering.

Slap. Squelch. Slap.

Shen Yu did not simply watch. He kneaded her breasts with possessive thoroughness, moulding the soft weight of them between his palms, watching the way her composure fractured further with each pass, the regal, composed Matriarch dissolving into something altogether more honest.

"Faster, Yan’er," he growled.

Slap. Slap. Squelch. Slap.

She obeyed instantly. The pace turned frantic, her head tossing back, her nails finding his shoulders and pressing crescents into his skin that she would not apologise for.

Every time she sank onto him, she let out a low, broken sound of devotion that she had long since stopped trying to moderate.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Squelch.

She wanted to be remade by him entirely, to carry the mark of his golden, unyielding gaze somewhere beneath her skin long after this night had ended.

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A/N: Power Stone Update - 22/150