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Binghe moaned into her mouth. He tasted of her, salty and tangy and a little sweet. Xun Yuan sucked on his tongue until there was just the warm taste of flesh left. The persistent pleasure of her orgasm had faded, leaving a bone-deep contentment in its wake.
“Binghe,” she said, tugging at his hair. It had fallen out of its ponytail, the ribbon loose and trailing down his back. She slipped it out, dropping the silk over the side of the bed. “Kiss me.”
And kiss her he did. He captured her mouth in a bruising kiss, taking big, grasping handfuls of her waist, her thighs, anywhere he could reach. The bed below her was damp, sweat and… other fluids cooling as they made out. He’d propped her up against the headboard, surrounded by the million pillows that decorated their bed.
She reeled him in, wrapping her legs around his waist to keep him near her. He was hard enough to pound nails, cock pressing into her stomach as he pressed biting kisses to her lower lip.
They kissed for what seemed like hours. Until the tingling faded from her limbs, leaving an empty heat burning deep within her. She shifted, trying to catch some kind of pressure to grind against. He caught her by the hips, laughter rumbling through his chest.
“If my wife wants something,” he murmured, pulling away until they were barely touching. “She should take it.”
Oh. Oh.
It was going to be that kind of night.
Alright, then.
Using her grip on his hair she pushed him down, down, down, until he was smiling up at her from between her legs. He slung one over his shoulder, biting a wet kiss to the scent gland her inner thigh as he pressed her other leg as far to the side as it could go.
Spread out like this, she couldn’t help but clench up in embarrassment. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but it was… humiliating, to be so exposed. He hummed, petting over her thighs as he stared. And stared. And stared.
She tugged at his hair, snapping at him with a hissed, “Binghe!”
If she had a fan nearby, she’d bop him on the face with it. Though, he always looked so dopey after she hit him, it wasn’t anything like a punishment. The wild grin he sent her way said that the hair pulling wasn’t a punishment, either.
Following her unspoken order, he leaned it. He licked her from taint to clit, sucking at that small bead with a fervor she could never match. While she did appreciate having him in her mouth, he was too big for her to have any sort of technique. He, on the other hand, had decades of practice.
And he put that practice to good use. He switched between lapping at her opening and laving his tongue over her clit. Anytime the pleasure from one spot buzzed in the back of her skull, the splashing waves of pleasure reaching a peak in her gut, he pulled away, moving to another sensitive point.
“Good,” she said, pulling him in closer with the leg slung over his shoulder. “Good boy. You’re doing so well for me, Binghe, just like that… come on…”
He whined like a puppy, pulling her closer into him. The bruises on her hips ached where he pressed his fingers in. He licked deep, curling his tongue past her entrance to flick at the nerves there.
“Ah,” she moaned, staring down at him. His hair was so soft. It curled around her fingers, thick and heavy and fluffy. A perfect handhold to pull him in. and she did, grinding her hips down into his face. He lapped at her faster, desperation tinging the air. The mark on his forehead pulsed softly, glowing between the strands of hair stuck to his face. With a gentle finger she wiped them away, pulling all of his hair back into her grip.
Claws pricked over her hips. She glanced down at the blood beading up. The pain meshed with the pleasure, pooling low in her stomach to drip onto his tongue. Binghe didn’t even seem to notice the blood. He was usually hyper aware of his claws and fangs, careful to keep them far away from her. Unless she asked for it, of course.
As his grip tightened, thin red lines rose up along her hips. She groaned at the burst of pleasure-pain, shifting her free leg up over his shoulder to give her more leverage. Grinding down felt good, the pressure of his nose and chin a pulsing counterpoint to the sharp pleasure of his mouth.
“Binghe—” she gasped. “Ah. Ah!”
He continued sucking at her clit, pinching it softly between his teeth to flick over it with his tongue. Sparks flared behind her eyes. She gripped his hair tighter, tugging at each precise flick of his tongue.
“Ngh, husband,” she moaned. She ground down into him, tossing her head back to pant at the ceiling. He sucked at her enthusiastically, rubbing the flat of his tongue over her clit in quick, smooth strokes. “You promised you’d get me to five— oh, fuck, fuck, right there, come on, do you wanna be a good boy for me?”
He nodded pathetically into her cunt, barely pulling back to speak.
“Please,” he whined, grinding his hips into the bed. He must be aching. They’d been at it a while, and he’d made her come… three times? First on his knee, then two on his tongue. They were working their way towards a fourth, but her Binghe was always so impatient.
She hummed, stroking a hand over his curls. The bright burn of pleasure faded to the background, leaving her shaky but levelheaded. “What do you want, Binghe?”
“You,” he blurted out, all signs of the stallion protagonist gone. She’d been surprised, the first time she’d carved her nails down her back and whimpered his praises, only for him to melt into the mattress and beg her for more. Now though, it was… fun. “Please, wife, my wife, let me fuck you.”
“Mn,” she said, settling back into the pillows. “Make me come again, then we’ll see.”
He dove in immediately. Lips and tongue tailed over her entrance, lapping up the slick oozing from her. She was soft and warm, the sated buzz of multiple orgasms lingering. Every touch of his ignited a fire in her belly.
“Ah, ah, ah,” she cried out, grinding her hips down in short, jerking thrusts. He was so good, so, so good, and she said as much, babbling everything that came to her mind. He whimpered, burying his face deeper in her cunt.
His tongue slithered past her entrance, extending to the more demonic prehensile one he usually kept under wraps. It made him lisp whenever he talked, which was more charming than she cared to admit. He was adorable, especially when he pouted. His tongue pushed into her, curving up to press against the muscles of her entrance. She clenched down, keening as the slippery muscle undulated inside her.
“Fuck, Binghe, Binghe, give me more,” she whined, yanking his hair hard enough for him to muffle a yelp. In an instant, his tongue froze inside her and his shoulders shook under her thighs. “Binghe, wha—”
He was grinding frantically against the sheets, hips jerking and feet scrabbling for leverage. After a moment the shaking slowed, leaving finite tremors in their place. He panted against her. She could feel his breath, tickling the hairs covering her mound. After a beat, two, it clicked.
“Did you just come?” she blurted out, hands still wrapped tight in his hair. He froze under her, but she could see the tops of his cheeks tinge pink. “… were you that desperate for it?”
Slowly, he looked up at her through his eyelashes. They were thick, framing the bright red of his irises beautifully. After a long moment he nodded. His nose rubbed against her outer lips, sensitive enough to make her hiss.
“Did it feel good?”
Slower, he nodded again. His eyes were shimmering, big and wide and wet, staring at her like she was some god sent down to bless him. What a silly concept. But that look… heat stirred in her belly, and she clenched down on nothing as the tension in the room crackled.
“Fuck, such a good boy,” she said, tightening her grip until his eyes rolled back in a groan. “Coming just from eating me out and a hand in your hair? Baby, that was so hot.”
She had no idea what she was saying, but it seemed to work. She never talked like this, certainly not before meeting Binghe, but her meimei back in her world had often conned her into reading danmei web novels in between PIDW updates, so she knew… some things. Binghe licked at her, making devastating eye contact as he pressed his tongue further into her.
He sucked at her entrance, shoving his tongue as far back as it could go. Which was pretty far. She arched as he rubbed aching circles across her g-spot, sucking all of the slick leaking out of her into his mouth. Light enough to tickle, his hand trailed up her thigh. black-tipped nails scratched lightly through her pubic hair, before he reached down to massage at her lips.
She moaned softly. The gentle pressure kicked the heat up. He framed his own mouth with his fingers, squeezing her mound with two fingers on each side. Pressing down, in, he rubbed at nerves she didn’t even know could be stimulated from the outside.
Her orgasm rippled through her. It was slower than the other three, but no less powerful. She gasped at the ceiling, clinging to him as he licked her through it. The mounting waves of pleasure crashed down, dragging her soul out of her body and into his mouth.
“Wife,” he whined, mouthing up her torso. He stopped at her breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth for a syrupy instant before moving on. “Wife, can I fuck you?”
She nodded, too out of breath to answer him. He caught her in a kiss, licking her own slick into her mouth again, before sliding into her in one slow, smooth thrust. She fluttered around him, pleasure still rippling through her. The overstimulation burned, bright and loud as she adjusted to the stretch.
“You’re so big,” she slurred, smiling blearily up at him. He groaned, hips rabbiting up against hers as she petted over his hair. She clenched down on him, purposefully, exhaling at the deep weight within her. The press of his cock against her walls was nice, warm, comforting.
“Wife,” he moaned into her mouth. He rolled his hips slowly, slipping her thighs off his shoulders to wrap them around his waist. They were pressed together from hips to mouth. As the overstimulation faded, she melted down into the pillows, pulling him with her to whisper filth into his ear.