Shameless Immortal: Emperor of Ten Thousand Beauties

Lixue closed her eyes, utterly surrendering the icy pride of the Sword Sovereign to the absolute authority of her lord. The cold, imperious bearing she wore like armour in every corner of the cultivation world, the frost that made lesser cultivators flinch and avert their gaze, dissolved completely beneath his hold, leaving behind something raw and willing and entirely his.

With her wrists still pinned above her head by Shen Yu’s unyielding grip, she had no choice but to lean forward using only the arch of her neck and the willing tilt of her body. She drew a slow, deep breath first, and immediately felt the effect of it.

The scent of his primordial yang essence was overwhelming, ancient and layered, like the first breath of a world being born. It curled into her lungs and sent a shudder rippling through her meridians, her Ancient Sword Sovereign bloodline stirring in response as though recognising something older and vaster than itself.

She exhaled slowly, steadied herself, and then extended her tongue, tracing a careful, deliberate lick across the head of his cock.

Slick.

A bead of precum smeared against her tongue, and her eyes fluttered.

"So tasty," Lixue breathed, the words escaping before she could compose herself, low and involuntary, barely a moan. The yang essence bloomed across her palate like a spell taking hold, warmth spreading from the tip of her tongue down through her chest and into her core, feeding the bloodline humming beneath her skin.

Shen Yu looked down at her, his golden eyes unreadable, depthless as a night sky with no stars, only that quiet, sovereign light that had always made her feel simultaneously seen and annihilated.

"How do I taste?" he asked, his voice unhurried, carrying the tone of a man who already knew the answer and simply wished to hear her say it.

Lixue wet her lips and struggled to find words adequate to the sensation. "It’s incredible," she murmured, her brow faintly creasing as she tried to articulate what her tongue was still processing.

"One moment it’s sweet, like honey drawn from a flower that only blooms once a century. Then it shifts, and there’s a heat to it, almost spicy, like embers that don’t burn but warm from the inside. And then sour, bright and clean, like the edge of a sword that’s just been whetted." She swallowed, her throat moving visibly. "It feels heavenly, my love. I could taste you forever."

Something shifted, almost imperceptibly, in Shen Yu’s expression, not softness exactly, but a deepening of attention.

"Mm." The sound was low, resonant. "Then taste more."

"Yes, honey," Lixue whispered against him, and set about doing exactly that.

She began at the head, lips parting to press a slow, open kiss against the tip — mwah — before trailing her tongue downward along the thick ridge of the underside, tracing every vein and contour with unhurried thoroughness.

Slick. Slick. Slick.

Each long drag of her tongue was deliberate, as though she were mapping a scripture she intended to memorise. She licked her way to the base, where the scent of his yang essence was densest, and pressed her nose briefly against the warmth of his skin, breathing him in with a soft, trembling inhale before dragging her tongue back upward along the opposite side.

Sliiick.

"You’re being very thorough," Shen Yu observed, his voice still controlled, though a subtle roughness had entered it at the edges.

"You told me to taste more," Lixue murmured against him, her lips brushing his length as she spoke. "I take my instructions seriously."

A quiet sound left him, almost amusement, almost something else entirely.

The angle was awkward with her arms stretched above her, her body forced to compensate, but the difficulty barely registered. Every inconvenience was simply irrelevant against the singular, crystalline desire to please him.

After she had licked him thoroughly from every angle her position allowed, she sealed her lips around the head, hollowed her cheeks, and sucked, slow at first, applying pressure in a steady, building pull—

Shlick. Shlick. Shlick

Until

Pop.

The sound broke the hushed silence of the room, sharp and obscene. A thin thread of saliva stretched and snapped between her swollen lip and the head of his cock.

"Again," Shen Yu said quietly.

Lixue obeyed without hesitation, taking him back in, deeper this time, beginning to move her head in a steady, rolling rhythm, taking a little more of him with every downward pass.

Shlick. Shlick. Shlick.

"Yes." His voice was quieter now, lower, stripped of some of its performative control. "Just like that. Take it all the way to your throat."

The command sent a spike of heat through her chest. Her rhythm grew faster, less measured, more urgent, driven now not just by discipline but by something hungrier.

Shlick...shlick...shlick...slurp...

Saliva gathered and spilled past her lips, trickling in thin rivulets down the curve of her neck, pooling in the hollow of her collarbone. His cock grew slick and gleaming with it, and the wet, rhythmic sounds of her efforts filled the room entirely, mingling with the soft, broken cadence of her breathing through her nose.

"Such pretty sounds you make," Shen Yu murmured, almost to himself, looking down at her with that sovereign, unblinking attention.

Lixue would have said something cutting in response, under any other circumstances, she absolutely would have, but her mouth was thoroughly occupied, and she settled instead for narrowing her eyes at him, which had absolutely no effect whatsoever on his composure.

Seeing her strain against the limitation of her raised arms, the slight desperation in the furrow of her brow, the way her shoulders trembled with the effort of compensating, Shen Yu released her wrists.

The freedom was immediate. Lixue’s hands dropped to his thighs, fingers curling into the muscle there, and in that same moment, something shifted in her eyes. The haze of surrender was still there, yes, but beneath it, something else had surfaced. Something deliberate. Something that looked, disconcertingly, like a plan. She looked up at him through the dark curtain of her damp hair, lips swollen and gleaming, and smiled, slow and private, the smile of someone who has been waiting very patiently for exactly this moment.

"My turn," she whispered.

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A/N: Thank you for reading! If this story has earned it, a quick review would mean the world to me.