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From under the shade of the cherry blossom tree in the courtyard, Shen Yuan watches the physician exchange goodbyes with his mother before being led out of the compound by the servants. The tight-lipped smile on his mother’s face slips away, as it always does after every visit, before she disappears into his father’s room.
Shen Yuan wonders what the physician said this time.
His father hadn’t always been in the best of health, but the past year has not been kind to him and his condition seemed to worsen with each cycle of the moon.
The Shen family were nobles but they were not wealthy, not since Old Master Shen had to retire early from serving in the Imperial Court due to his illness. They had enough to live by, though the way they lived was hardly what other nobles would be content with. They had a handful of servants, just enough to maintain the household, and an old horse in their stable who has seen better days. The pension his father received was only enough to cover the cost of his medical bills and whatever necessities the household required. Anything else was out of the question. They could not afford the same luxuries as the other nobles did, lest they find themselves in the streets like those common beggars.
Although Shen Yuan had long accepted that his father’s prognosis was unlikely to change, like his mother, he held onto the hope that his father would live longer than the physician predicted. A selfish hope because he didn’t want to shoulder responsibilities he wasn’t ready for, and would probably never be ready for, just yet.
Childish, others would say. What kind of son wouldn’t want to relieve the burden of responsibility for his father?
If his older brothers had still been alive, he wouldn’t be in this situation.
But as the remaining son of the Shen family (his older brothers passed away from congenital illnesses years ago), it should’ve been him looking after the household, managing the family’s affairs, representing as head of his family, and being in that room this morning with his father and the physician.
Instead it’s his mother who took on the position as the temporary head of the Shen family. She insisted on it so that her son can focus on studying for the imperial exam and pass in order to secure a government post.
The selfish part of him is grateful for that.
And guilty.
What kind of son would be relieved to allow his mother to take on his father’s responsibilities?
He glances down at the page he’d been reading. Folding the edge of the page to mark it, he flips the book shut and makes his way to his father’s room across the courtyard.
On his way there, one of the servants hurries towards him, holding an important-looking scroll. “Young Master!” she calls out. “A message from the Emperor.”
Shen Yuan’s steps falter as she presents the scroll to him. He thanks her before taking a good look at it. It’s been a long time since his father had been contacted by the Emperor he served but the Imperial seal, a snarling dragon encircling flame, on the document is unmistakable.
What could the Emperor have sent to his family? They haven’t had any contact with the court since Shen Yuan’s father retired.
Before he can break the seal open and read the contents of the scroll, the doors of his father’s room slide open. “A-Yuan,” says his mother when she notices the scroll in his hand. “What’s that?”
“An Imperial message,” says Shen Yuan as he passes it to her.
As she reads the contents of the scroll, a furrow appears between her eyebrows. “The Emperor will be visiting the town tonight,” she says. “There will be a banquet held tonight and all the nobles are invited.”
“On such short notice?”
“Perhaps he had important matters in the area to attend to.”
Shen Yuan doubts it, considering the kind of man the Emperor was.
Emperor Luo Binghe. Half-human, half Heavenly Demon. The man who grew up in the streets before joining Qing Jing Peak of the now defunct Cang Qiong Mountain Sect as a disciple before vanishing mysteriously, only to return years later and soar to power. He single-handedly united the Three Realms and crowned himself Emperor, a title no one except a man as powerful or as arrogant as him would claim. There isn’t a single soul who didn’t know about the story of Emperor
Although Emperor Luo Binghe was a ruler deserving of the awe and respect from his people as no one else in history had risen to power in such a short span of time and successfully united the Three Realms, he was also known for less savory things as well.
There were plenty of songs and poems of his conquests but the most popular ones were about his conquests over women. Some were romantic but others sickening if you read between the lines of the flowery language used.
Shen Yuan can never utter this aloud, for words against the Emperor were tantamount to treason, but he does not think much of the Emperor. He thinks he’s a cruel man, who will not hesitate to destroy anyone who rose against him and laugh as he did so, who takes delight in stealing maidens away and taking them to his harem where they would inevitably be forgotten once he finds another woman to chase after.
But even if he were to speak his thoughts, it wouldn’t change anything about the Emperor’s qualities.
And anyway for all the knew, the Emperor was here because there was some unfortunate maiden who caught his eye.
“I’m sure your father would be pleased to see the Emperor again,” says his mother with a small nod.
Old Master Shen should’ve stayed at home.
Apart from the fact that he was not well enough to be present at the dining hall with the Emperor and the other nobles, Shen Yuan thought he ought not be here because he didn’t want his father to notice the way people stared at him. He could feel the contempt and pity in everyone else’s gazes as Old Master Shen was wracked with fits of dreadful coughing that was audible over the music and conversations drifting in the air. He could hear the insincerity in their voices as they wished him well. If Old Master Shen noticed the things his son did, he didn’t show it.
Strangely, Emperor Luo was not present at the banquet this evening but wished everyone to enjoy themselves for the night. Shen Yuan found this both odd and irritating. Why would he summon the nobles in the area to come here tonight if he wasn’t going to make an appearance?
The free flowing food, wine and entertainment was great, but really? Sure, he was the Emperor and could do whatever he liked but he should at least have some consideration for the people who served him! Especially Shen Yuan’s father, who’d been looking forward to seeing the Emperor tonight that he waved off his wife and son’s concerns that he might not be fit to attend the banquet.
“Why don’t you go mingle with the other young masters?” His father suggests, mistaking the heavy frown on Shen Yuan’s face as boredom rather than irritation. “Instead of taking care of this old man, eh?”
Shen Yuan begins to protest but his father waves him off with a laugh only to dissolve into a fit of coughs. Once he recovers, he says, I promise you I’m alright. Go on, it’d be good to talk to people your own age.”
After making his father promise he’d call for him if he needed anything, Shen Yuan begrudgingly leaves his side. He spies a few tables where other sons of nobles are sitting around, deciding which group appears the most welcoming before approaching them.
Old Master Shen watches his son, the smile on his face slowly slipping, before he reaches for his cane.
It’s rare for Luo Binghe to retire so early in the evening but he was quite weary from today’s activities.
Earlier today, he dispatched some minor nuisances who’ve been guilty of treason under the guise of diplomatic talks. He taught them all a lesson, one they would be in no hurry to forget in the grave and in hell. Their bodies will not be discovered until a few days later, past the period at which funeral rites should’ve been held to guide their souls to the afterlife.
The banquet tonight was customary as the Emperor had not visited this town in a long time and he’d heard the nobles who lived here had been looking forward to it. It’s a shame that he was in no mood to attend this evening though.
With a cup of wine in his hand, Luo Binghe watches the silvery flash of scales disappear under the rippling reflection of the moonlight on the pond. Quiet moments like this are rare back at the palace. There would always be meetings to attend, documents to read and responsibilities, responsibilities, responsibilities. Even his wives were an incessant bunch.
The footsteps, punctuated by sharp raps against the ground, disturbs his peace. How odd. Luo Binghe thought he had instructed his subordinates to ensure no one would disturb him tonight
Luo Binghe glances up from his wine to see an old man hobbling over to him. Judging from his attire, he must be one of the nobles from the banquet.
“Good evening, Junshang,” the old man croaks. He looks in no shape to be here, eyes cloudy with age, unsteady on his feet even with his cane and his sickly appearance looking worse under the moonlight. On a shaky hand, he begins to kneel in greeting but Luo Binghe stops him with a wave of his hand.
“Why have you come to disturb me this evening?” says Luo Binghe, cutting into the old man’s obsequious thanks.
“Ah, this old man would like to keep Junshang company.”
Luo Binghe snorts. How brazen. He regards the old man, paying more attention now. He can smell the alcohol on his breath, intermingled with a scent of bitter medicinal herbs. He seems senile though harmless. A small part of Luo Binghe bears an ounce of pity for him so he grants the old man permission to sit with him for awhile.
The old man introduces himself as Old Master Shen who once served in Luo Binghe’s imperial court. Luo Binghe doesn’t remember him but feels sorry enough to pretend that he does. He even shares some of his wine with him.
“Junshang, if this lowly one may trouble you further,” begins Old Master Shen as he pours wine for the Emperor. “I have a small family issue I am unable to solve. If Junshang may be able to share some wisdom as to how I may approach this matter, it would be greatly appreciated.”
Luo Binghe’s eyes narrow slightly. Admittedly, he isn’t remotely interested in this old man’s personal life. But the pitiful way that Old Master Shen waits for him to acknowledge his plea wins his sympathy. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“Ah, you see, I have a son,” says Old Master Shen, his words slurring together from the wine. “He’s the only child I have since his other siblings passed away. And I love him dearly but …”
“What fault do you find with him?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say it's ‘fault’ I’m displeased with per se,” he says. “I’d like to see my son married and have his own children, as every father does but his body is different …” His voice drops to a delicate whisper at the last word. He glances around, though Luo Binghe doubts he’d be able to see if there was anyone eavesdropping on them with his poor eyesight and their dimly lit surroundings.
Then he turns back to continue. “He had an accident with a plant that happened when he wandered into the woods as a child and unfortunately did not receive the appropriate treatment in time to reverse the flower’s effects. So now my son has a cunt instead of a prick.”
Luo Binghe’s eyebrows arch. “Have you considered marrying him off to someone who can produce heirs instead?” he asks. “I’m certain there are men and women like that who would take him.”
“Ah, I would consider marrying him off to another family if not someone into mine,” says Old Master Shen. “But I was told by the physicians that he is also unable to bear heirs due to the flower’s side effects.”
He sighs, shaking his head.
“Even if there are elixirs to make him fertile, I cannot afford them, much less the dowry if I marry him off to someone.”
“My deepest sympathies for you and your son,” says Luo Binghe but his tone is empty, just like his wine cup. The pity he had for this old man can only extend so far with him whinging about a problem that can easily be fixed.
“If Junshang may offer his wisdom —”
“You speak to me as if there are no differences between our statuses.” The volume of Luo Binghe’s voice does not change but his tone reveals his impatience. “Have you forgotten who is the Emperor here whose solitary peace has been rudely interrupted by your presence?”
The old man pales as Luo Binghe turns to him, his eyes glowing red in warning. “Ah, this lowly one apologizes!”
“I do feel sorry after hearing your little tale about your son but perhaps you should speak with your matchmaker rather than escalating it to the Emperor. I think they may be better equipped to assist you on such trivial matters, don’t you think?”
“Yes, Junshang, you’re absolutely right. Forgive this lowly one for bringing the matter up —”
“Or you could always sell him off to a whorehouse if you cannot afford the matchmaker’s services —”
“A whorehouse?”
Luo Binghe’s head whips around to find a young man nearby.
He bears little resemblance to the trembling old man before the Emperor, though the way he rushes towards the old man without hesitation says plenty about their relationship. He even has the audacity to glare at the Emperor, as if it was Luo Binghe bothering his father and not vice-versa. Impertinence and disregard for status appears to run in the Shen family.
It’s been a long time since Luo Binghe felt a spark for anyone but the fierce look in the young man’s eyes ignites something inside him. Luo Binghe’s gaze sweeps over him, taking in as much detail as he can, from his pretty features, the sound of his voice, the sliver of skin exposed on his nape as he bends down to help his father up and the curve of his ass under those robes.
“Forgive my father, Junshang,” grits the young man, “but I think he has had too much to drink tonight.”
“No, I haven’t,” replies Old Master Shen, slurring.
“What’s your name?” asks Luo Binghe.
“Huh?” The young man frowns incredulously at him.
“You heard me.”
After a long pause, the young man spits out: “Shen Yuan.”
The corners of Luo Binghe’s mouth curl upwards, revealing the tips of his fangs.
The expression on the Emperor’s face unnerves Shen Yuan but the hand on his arm squeezes hard, pulling him back to the present. As he excuses himself, pulling his father along with him, unaware that he caught the Emperor’s greedy eyes.
The Shen family receives an Imperial message the next day.
Shen Yuan feels sick as the servant presents the scroll to his mother at breakfast. His mind cycles through a few reasons why they’ve been contacted.
Was it about his father disturbing the Emperor when he clearly wanted to be left alone? Was it about Old Master Shen speaking out of turn by asking the Emperor for advice on how to deal with … Shen Yuan’s issue? Or was it because Shen Yuan had not shown the Emperor the appropriate amount of courtesy when he collected his father from the pavilion that night?
(Not that the Emperor deserved it after that unsavory comment he made about him.)
His mother’s eyes grow wide as she reads the scroll, her jaw becoming slack shortly, followed by her hand clapping over her mouth.
“What is it?” he asks anxiously.
His mother passes the scroll to him. Though he wants nothing to do with it, much less touch it out of fear of what he’d find, he takes it from her. Taking a deep breath, he reads the first line. And the next, and the rest of it. And the whole thing again until the message sinks through his disbelief.
The scroll falls out of his hand onto the table, narrowly missing his congee, as he rushes out of the room.
His mother calls after him but he barely hears her over the ringing in his ears.
Why does the Emperor wish to marry me?
The Emperor is offering an excessive sum for his dowry.
Generous, his parents said but Shen Yuan saw the desperation and the greed in their eyes.
An outsider wouldn’t blame them for being swayed by the money, considering their living situation.
But to Shen Yuan, it was like his parents saw him as nothing more than an object to pawn for money, not a son they were giving away to a man known for his cruel and lecherous tendencies. It didn’t help that he remembered the Emperor suggesting he be sold off to a brothel either.
Also, Shen Yuan didn’t want to marry him.
There’ll never be a reason why he’d want to be wedded to this man even in different lives, not when he had a horrible character as a person.
His first reaction is the need to reject the Emperor, despite nobody in history doing (or having the ability to do) so. But when he tells his parents about it, he is berated for it and even, for the first time in his life, slapped across the face for it.
How could he be so thoughtless and stupid? Did he not wish to alleviate his family’s financial situation by accepting the dowry? And how could he think of rejecting the Emperor’s hand when he had so courteously asked for his hand instead of snatching him and taking him for himself like he did with some of his other unfortunate wives?
“Haven’t you been selfish enough already? Try to be filial for once!”
Shen Yuan cries his eyes till they’re red and swollen the night his mother sends the acceptance letter.
Perhaps he would’ve been happier being sold off to a whorehouse.
The Emperor makes a show of courting him before the wedding ceremony. Shen Yuan isn’t enchanted by his handsome face, beguiled by his charm or seduced by his sweet words.
Or at least that’s what he tells himself when he’s breathless at the Emperor standing close to him, when his face grows hot at the low, sultry whisper of the Emperor’s voice or when his pulse quickens at the weight of the Emperor’s touch on him.
The Emperor also makes a strange request before their wedding, insisting Shen Yuan to drink a mystery elixir every day leading up to it.
Naturally, he throws the elixir away every time.
There aren’t any consequences for his actions, so he regards it as his way of expressing his unwillingness to marry the Emperor.
The dreaded day, his wedding, arrives too soon. His entire day is spent dressed in robes of red with intricately embroidered phoenixes and flowers, and have his face caked with a heavy layer of makeup to make him look beautiful on his special day.
His mind is barely present at the ceremony itself, his awareness returning in flashes.
The bows for the heavens, their parents, and each other.
The Emperor slicing his finger open to drip his blood into Shen Yuan’s wine before they crossed their arms and drank each other’s cups.
The numbness of his lips at the Emperor’s kiss, the tingling in his veins as the blood parasites made his body their new home and the cacophony of voices cheering for them.
His awareness of the present returns fully when the Emperor leads him to his chambers where they will consummate their marriage. His stomach drops and his feet drag heavily against the floor but the Emperor simply yanks him along, ignoring his yelp in pain.
Shen Yuan thought he saw him smirk.
In the Emperor’s chambers, he presses a wine cup of dark liquid into Shen Yuan’s hands.
“Drink,” he says. When Shen Yuan doesn’t move, he sighs and touches his cheek gently, “I know A-Yuan has been a very naughty boy throwing away these elixirs I prepared for you before our wedding. But this husband is gracious enough to give you another chance tonight. So be a good wife and drink.”
Shen Yuan narrows his eyes before sniffing the drink warily. The sickly-sweet scent causes his stomach to churn in recognition; it’s the same as the mystery elixirs the Emperor wanted him to drink before their marriage. He takes this opportunity to demand an answer from his husband. “Tell me what this is then I’ll consider.”
The Emperor chuckles. “This husband was informed that your womb is barren,” he says, taking delight in the way Shen Yuan stiffens. “So I specially prepared this elixir to allow you to bear our children —“
“I don’t want it.” Shen Yuan cuts him off, pushing the cup back to the Emperor. “I don’t want your children either. And I don’t want you anywhere near me —”
A hand seizes Shen Yuan roughly by the chin. He gasps, forced to look right into the Emperor’s crimson-eyed gaze. The smile on his face remains but the anger in his eyes is almost palpable, searing the air between them as he glares down at him.
“This husband strongly recommends A-Yuan to think twice about declining,” he says, his voice silky but with an edge sharper than a blade. “I’ve been patient with A-Yuan and have forgiven you for behaving in ways unbefitting as my wife.” His claws dig into Shen Yuan’s skin. “However, this is the last time I will indulge in your disobedience.”
The Emperor is taller than Shen Yuan, much taller than him, that he’s forced to stand tiptoed while the Emperor holds him by the face. His legs are trembling and his fists balled by his sides but he meets the Emperor’s gaze with an equally stubborn one of his own. He reaches to grab the Emperor’s wrist, his nails digging into flesh, as he spits out, “I never wanted to be yours.”
Something snaps in the air between them.
Shen Yuan doesn’t see so much as a twitch in the Emperor’s face but the hairs on his nape stand in foreboding. He releases Shen Yuan, letting his newlywed wife crumple onto the floor gasping, as he glances at the cup in his hand. He swirls it a few times, his expression unreadable before his eyes flicker back to Shen Yuan.
“I see,” he says, the edge in his tone sharpening. He squats down to be eye-level with Shen Yuan. A finger tilts Shen Yuan’s chin up, the tip of his claw digging into his skin.
Shen Yuan’s breath catches as the Emperor leans close to him, his face growing hot as the Emperor’s heated gaze flickers downwards briefly before backing up again. “Then A-Yuan leaves me no choice,” he whispers.
Without looking away, the Emperor raises the cup to his lips and takes a sip. Shen Yuan’s eyes grow wide, his skin tingling all over, when the Emperor leans forward to kiss him.
Earlier when the Emperor kissed him in the hall in front of everyone, Shen Yuan felt numb. But now, he could feel the softness of his mouth, the heat of his kiss and the swipe of his tongue across the seam of Shen Yuan’s lips.
Shen Yuan gasps. He tries to pull away but for some reason his body doesn’t respond to him, instead buzzing with pins-and-needles while staying rooted to the spot. Liquid, warmed from being in the Emperor’s mouth, pours into his. It’s sweet, sickeningly so, but with a bitter aftertaste to it. He tries not to swallow it but the liquid drips down his throat and into his belly.
The Emperor watches as Shen Yuan struggles, his crimson eyes burning with delight watching his wife struggle against him. Only when he has transferred all the elixir into Shen Yuan’s mouth, licking him for good measure, does he pull away.
A line of spit connecting their lips glistens as it stretches out before breaking.
Shen Yuan barely catches his breath, feeling as the blood parasites gather in his belly and assist his stomach in absorbing the elixir, when he is swept into the Emperor’s arms. He yelps, arms wrapping around the Emperor’s neck instinctively. The Emperor chuckles against him. Only the fear of being dropped onto the floor keeps Shen Yuan from wriggling out of his arms.
The Emperor nuzzles him, his warm breath ghosting against Shen Yuan’s lips, before he tries to kiss him. Shen Yuan turns his face away this time, cheeks burning, only to gasp when he feels the Emperor’s lips on his neck right below his earlobe. A choked moan falls from his open mouth as the Emperor sucks on his skin.
The panic and confusion eventually fades below the growing heat pooling from the pit of his belly. The strength in his limbs are sapped away as his body grows sensitive to the Emperor’s touch with the help of the blood parasites. Every time he tries to shove the Emperor away or fight back, a wave of searing heat overcomes him, causing his body to go limp and pulling breathy cries he didn’t know he was capable of making.
Cold air hits his skin and Shen Yuan realizes in the time he’d been focused on struggling, he’d only been helping the Emperor take his robes off. He whimpers, curling up in an attempt to cover himself.
The sound of the Emperor’s laugh is like honey and poison, making Shen Yuan shiver with fear and something else. The Emperor takes a moment to appreciate the way Shen Yuan cowers underneath him, staring up at him in fright. The Emperor’s eyes glow red, matching the demon mark on his forehead, as he takes his robes off.
Shen Yuan’s eyes widens at the sight of the Emperor’s naked body. Muscles ripple under the smooth expanse of his skin as he tosses his clothes aside. Shen Yuan’s gaze travels downwards along his torso when his mouth goes dry. He’d heard about the Emperor's Heavenly Pillar, about how its size and girth and the Emperor’s techniques could bring any woman into the throes of pleasure and ecstasy.
The Emperor’s cock certainly lives up to its title, hanging heavy between the Emperor’s legs and bobbing as he moves to Shen Yuan. He feels a tingling sensation between his legs and furiously crosses them together when he feels a trickle of fluid down there.
“A-Yuan must be excited for this husband to be inside him,” Luo Binghe chuckles when he notices where Shen Yuan’s gaze wandered off to, taking delight in the way his cheeks redden at the comment.
He shoves Shen Yuan’s knees apart to reveal his pussy. It’s pretty, just like his wife, the hole a lovely shade of pink and its lips plump and glistening with his arousal. He drags his fingers along the slit, delighted at the noise Shen Yuan makes.
“Look at you.” Luo Binghe holds his slick-coated fingers. “You’re already so wet for me.”
Shen Yuan says nothing instead turning his face away as if he can hide the furious blush on his cheeks.
His wife is too shy to kiss him but Luo Binghe can still show his lust in other ways. He licks a hot stripe up from his collarbones before sucking his neck, laving his tongue over Shen Yuan’s flushed skin. One hand gropes his small tits, teasing the little pink nub with his fingers. His other hand fondles the soft and wet folds of Shen Yuan’s cunt, circling around the slit, over his sensitive clit before easing his fingers into that virgin hole.
Shen Yuan mewls against him.
Luo Binghe can feel Shen Yuan struggling, fighting against the blood parasites crawling in his veins and suppressing his strength that he couldn’t hurt Luo Binghe even if he wanted to. He can feel how Shen Yuan resists him with every gasp, every twist of his limbs, every time he writhes against Luo Binghe’s body trying to get away. But he can also feel Shen Yuan slowly drowning under the waves of his arousal, the sensation of pleasure sweeping through his body and smothering his fear and disgust towards his husband.
Luo Binghe is intoxicated with satisfaction, delight and arousal at witnessing how Shen Yuan’s determination crumbles under him. His cock is so hard, painfully so, at the little show of futile resistance his wife is putting up for him. With how wet Shen Yuan’s cunt has gotten, how his hot walls clench around his fingers in response to being kissed, licked and fondled, Luo Binghe is so close to plunging his cock into him and rutting into him like a wild animal.
Pulling his fingers out from Shen Yuan, he watches how that pink hole flutters around nothing, practically asking to be filled. Paired with those tear-stained eyes, his flushed cheeks, the way he’s gripping the sheets and that debauched look on his face, it’s the most beautiful and lewdest sight.
As badly as Luo Binghe wants to fuck Shen Yuan and relish in his wife’s hole, to be inside him and fill him to the brim with his seed, Shen Yuan is still too tense to take him. Luo Binghe is aware of how big he is and with his previous experiences with his wives in the past, it’d be better for both of them if he took more time to loosen Shen Yuan’s virgin cunt up.
“Stop,” Shen Yuan pleads him, his voice so sweet and lovely to Luo Binghe ears. He’s crying, still frightened. Luo Binghe coos, brushing away his hair before giving his forehead a gentle kiss. Ah, what a delicate little thing.
“You have my word that I won’t hurt you,” whispers Luo Binghe, stroking his thumb along Shen Yuan’s soft pink cheek. “As long as A-Yuan behaves.”
The corners of his lips curve upwards at how Shen Yuan trembles underneath him. He must be so excited, so eager to take his husband’s cock if the way his fingernails dig into his shoulders mean anything.
Luo Binghe peppers Shen Yuan’s body with kisses as he makes his descent along his body. Shen Yuan squirms — he must be so ticklish but he’s making things trickier for Luo Binghe — so he presses his hands down his hips, pinning him down onto the bed.
“No! Please!” Shen Yuan protests, tugging on Luo Binghe’s hair when Luo Binghe’s mouth wraps around his pink, swollen clit.
“No?” Luo Binghe repeats, his lips brushing against the clit. “Or please?” He darts his tongue out playfully, feeling Shen Yuan strain against him. “Which is it?” he murmurs before sucking on the nub again.
“Don’t do that —” Shen Yuan’s cry turns into a yelp as Luo Binghe lets his claws dig warningly into his skin.
“A-Yuan, don’t you understand?” Luo Binghe sighs, craning his neck up to look at Shen Yuan’s terrified face. “This husband only wants to make you feel good tonight. You’re so tight down here, I’d hurt you if I put it inside you now.”
Shen Yuan looks close like he’s about to cry. Poor thing must want his husband’s cock so badly. He shakes his head. “I don’t want it,” he whispers.
Luo Binghe hums, raising his eyebrows slightly. “A-Yuan is a liar,” he says. Shen Yuan opens his mouth to reply but gasps instead as Luo Binghe swipes his tongue over his slit. “Your mouth says no and yet your body responds to me so eagerly.”
“I’m not —” Shen Yuan breaks off with a high-pitched moan, his head thrown back against the pillow as Luo Binghe pushes his tongue inside him. He sounds so lovely, so lewd, making these desperate noises as Luo Binghe alternates between licking, sucking and laving his pussy.
Shen Yuan tastes heavenly, his juices salty and sweet on Luo Binghe’s tongue. He kisses those plump pussy lips, swirling his tongue inside Shen Yuan’s holes and sucking that swollen clit. Shen Yuan’s thighs tighten around his head — he can’t crush Luo Binghe’s skull, not with the blood parasites working inside him — but Luo Binghe allows him to hold him there in place.
Now that he isn’t writhing as much anymore, Luo Binghe takes this opportunity to slide his fingers inside Shen Yuan’s hole, now easier to penetrate and wetter thanks to the mix of Luo Binghe’s spit and the juices of his arousal. He scissors his fingers, gently working against those fluttering walls, but also making sure to apply a slight pressure as his fingertips glide against those silky walls.
The only warning Luo Binghe gets is Shen Yuan clenching around him before a hot spurt of liquid hits his tongue. Luo Binghe pulls back, his eyes lighting up as Shen Yuan’s walls spasm around his fingers, gushing out liquid. Shen Yuan cries out beautifully for Luo Binghe as his back arches off the bed, presenting those perky nipples to his husband.
The last thread of Luo Binghe’s self-control snaps.
Without giving a chance for Shen Yuan to come down from the high, Luo Binghe yanks him by the hips, hooking his wife’s legs around his waist and positioning himself over Shen Yuan’s dripping cunt. He hisses under his breath as he grabs his cock, its drooling head just right before between those glistening wet folds.
Shen Yuan whines underneath him, squirming. His pussy rubs against the head of Luo Binghe’s cock with the motion, smearing their fluids together. It’s almost as if he’s asking him to hurry up.
So Luo Binghe enters.
A low groan drags past his lips at the all-consuming heat of his wife’s hole all around him, so soft and wet, as he slides with ease. Shen Yuan moans, his hands gripping Luo Binghe by the shoulders as Luo Binghe rocks his hips forward, deep and slow.
The sensation of Shen Yuan’s hole around him drives Luo Binghe insane, fanning the lust burning within him. His pace quickens eventually, filling the chambers with the sounds of their lovemaking.
When Luo Binghe changes the angles of his thrusts, Shen Yuan’s moans change in quality. He pounds into that exact spot when he feels Shen Yuan clench around him, driving his cock relentlessly into his wife. He even rubs that swollen clit, earning those beautiful noises from him as a reward.
Tears stain the corners of Shsn Yuan’s eyes as the Emperor fucks into him at that brutal pace, making his vision blur at the corners with every thrust. He’s so overwhelmed from the feeling of the Emperor’s cock fucking him in that spot. The blood parasites in his body enhance the sensation, causing bursts of pleasure erupting through his pliant body.
Shen Yuan reaches his climax quickly, cumming with a sob around the Emperor’s cock, his body trembling from the aftershocks.
Luo Binghe growls at Shen Yuan’s hole spasming around him, clenching and unclenching rhythmically on his cock. But he isn’t close, not yet, so he continues to fuck Shen Yuan, changing their positions and making Shen Yuan cry out as he cums quickly each time.
When Luo Binghe finally reaches his climax, he ejaculates with a low and possessive noise, biting into Shen Yuan’s neck. His wife, exhausted from their vigorous coupling, whines in protest, his nails digging weakly into Luo Binghe’s back.
The sight of Shen Yuan’s pussy after he pulls out is so satisfying. Painted with his seed, it looks prettier when it’s messy and ruined. He pushes a thick glob of cum that’s dripping out back inside it, grinning.
Shen Yuan twitches but makes no effort to resist. He’s a lovely sight to behold, dazed and drooling on his pillow after being made to cum several times, his body so soft and pliant.
Luo Binghe kisses him and this time he doesn’t turn away, accepting his husband’s lips with a gentle sigh. “You’ve been so good this time. This husband is pleased,” he croons, brushing away the strands of hair sticking to Shen Yuan’s forehead. He pulls him into his arms, nuzzling into his neck as he caresses gently over Shen Yuan’s womb.
“We shall have another round soon. The night is young and I want to fill A-Yuan up with our children.”
A single tear rolls down Shen Yuan’s cheek, staining the pillowcase.
These past few months Shen Yuan noticed he’s developed a habit of running his hand over his swollen belly. Whether consciously or not, it’s soothing to run his palm over his abdomen, feeling its soft roundness in slow circular motions. If he caresses his belly for long enough, his child will respond, moving within his womb towards his touch as if it yearned for its mother’s love.
His child.
It took him some time before he eventually called the unborn baby his own, even if its father was His Imperial Highness Emperor Luo Binghe. The man who he was forced to marry for his family’s sake and bear children for as if he were breeding stock. Remembering how this child came to be due to its father’s actions upsets Shen Yuan so he does his best not to think too much about it.
If there’s anything out of this marriage he may take comfort in, it’s that his family is living well now with the Emperor’s financial support. Though it will never make up for what he went through, at least Shen Yuan can rest assured that, in his parents’ eyes, he’s done his filial duty.
Naturally, they are delighted about his pregnancy and never fail to express how excited they were to meet their grandchild every time Shen Yuan visits them. As this month will be the last time he will see them — the imperial physicians advised him to rest in the upcoming weeks to prepare for the birth of his child — his parents made him promise to write to them more often and to be more detailed in his letters.
Something touches his belly, waking Shen Yuan up. He didn’t realize he fell asleep on the carriage. And on the Emperor’s shoulder!
Shen Yuan apologizes, sitting up only for the Emperor’s arm around him to tighten slightly.
“Stay,” whispers the Emperor, “I don’t mind.”
Sheepishly, Shen Yuan leans back, his face hot.
Sensing his shyness, the Emperor nuzzles into his hair and kisses his temple, rubbing his belly gently while he whispers sweet nothings in his ear. The child in his belly stirs to its father’s touch and voice when a warmth blooms in Shen Yuan’s chest.
Slowly, he raises his hand to touch the Emperor’s hand on his belly.
Though he will never admit this aloud, and certainly not to the Emperor, he thinks this feeling may be the closest thing he’ll ever feel to love for the Emperor, his husband, Luo Binghe.