He took a step forward, pressing her firmly against the palace door.
The vermilion door creaked softly as the fading twilight seeped through the crack, casting a pale golden glow upon her hair. The carved wooden patterns dug into her back, while faint murmurs and hurried footsteps of palace attendants echoed outside.
The man before her had dark brows furrowed, his handsome face contorted with anger. His hands, gripping her hips, felt as unyielding as iron clamps.
As she gasped lightly, he thrust his hips forward, pinning her tightly against the door. One hand reached up to tear open the crimson collar of her official robe—already half-undone by her—and delved beneath to rip apart the white silk inner garment and vermilion waist wrap. His palm covered her full breast, kneading and squeezing with brutal force.
Her spine felt on the verge of snapping, her nipples trembling beneath his touch, flushed crimson and standing erect. Every sensation in her body seemed to converge there, while a scorching dampness pooled between her thighs, unbearable in its intensity.
He leaned down to bite her lips, his lower hand gripping and kneading her buttocks fiercely. His tongue traced her lips, jaw, and neck with such ferocity it seemed he meant to devour her alive.
Her hands, initially braced against the doorframe, now tangled in his hair—partly resisting, partly yielding. Panting heavily, her other hand frantically worked to undo the layers of his brocade robes. When her fingertips finally met the warmth of his skin, a sigh of satisfaction escaped her lips. The hand in his hair tugged sharply before joining the other to tear his robes open.
Her legs hooked around his waist, pulling her upper body against his. Her soft, bare breasts pressed against the solid plane of his chest.
Rubbing gently against him, her arms wrapped around his neck as if she were hanging from him. Her disheveled hair cascaded freely, the official robe slipping halfway down her shoulders and back.
He bit down on her shoulder.
The mix of pain and numbness stoked the fire within her, flames leaping higher in an instant.
She clung to him more tightly, her restless hands roaming from his neck down his rigid spine, then sliding along his ribs to lightly pinch the taut skin stretched over muscle and bone.
He abruptly released her shoulder with a sharp hiss, clearly pained yet more aroused than ever. His large hand slid up her back, yanking the disheveled official robe down to her waist, baring her smooth, pale skin to his gaze. Sparks flickered in his eyes as his gaze swept over her before he abruptly tightened his hold, turned, and carried her to the clothing table, laying her upon it.
With a sweep of his arm, golden belts, jade swords, and other accessories clattered to the floor.
The solemn ceremonial blue dragon robe lay crumpled beneath her, her skin glowing like polished jade, the rosy peaks of her breasts standing taut. The contrast of textures—the rigid embroidery against her softness—proved unexpectedly arousing.
Before she could react, he bent over her, his mouth and tongue swiftly targeting her tender peaks. He captured one in his mouth, his hot tongue lashing and teasing while one hand kneaded the other and his free hand tore at her underskirt.
The sound of tearing fabric was faint yet piercing.
A chill swept over her lower body, her blood seeming to rush and concentrate there. She squirmed slightly, but his mouth remained locked on her nipple, immobilizing her.
His warm palm gently explored her most intimate place, teasing, kneading, and lightly pinching until she grew increasingly wet and heated. Then his hand shifted to caress her inner thighs.
Her entire body trembled, her heart quivering with pleasure. Her red lips parted, a thousand words trapped beneath her tongue, yet only moans and gasps escaped her mouth.She wanted to reach out and touch his face, but he suddenly lifted his head, fixed his gaze on her, seized her wrist, and pressed it firmly against the table.
He slowly raised an eyebrow.
Then he lowered his head, extended his tongue, and meticulously traced over her shoulder and breast before releasing her wrist. His hands moved downward and upward again, gripping her waist firmly.
A mist clouded her vision as she watched him slowly descend, kissing her waist and abdomen before continuing further, burying his head between her thighs.
His tongue was scorching, at times sharp as a blade, at times soft as a feather, making her tense and tremble one moment, then melt into a puddle the next, flowing and surging uncontrollably.
She could no longer restrain herself. Her fingers dug into the edge of the table, her nails scraping lightly and heavily over the fine grain of the red wood. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, yearning to move, but her waist was locked in place by his two large hands, leaving her utterly at his mercy.
After the tongue came the teeth. Slowly, gently, they grazed her most vulnerable spot, parting her petal by petal, sweeping over her, nipping lightly before his tongue followed, swiftly circling and grinding.
She couldn't hold back a cry.
Sweat beaded across her skin, a faint spasm tightening the small of her back. A fiery heat surged through her limbs, drying the moisture in her bones before blazing downward, the scalding sensation startling her senses.
Her fingers released the table's edge as she struggled to prop herself up on her elbows. Glancing down, she saw his robe hanging open, his strong neck slightly bent as he lifted his head to kiss her.
The sight was overwhelmingly intense.
She hooked her legs around his back, and as he bit her waist, she grabbed his wrist, leaning in eagerly to cup his face and press a kiss to his left eye.
This was the eye that had haunted her dreams for ten long years; this was the man she had adored her entire life. He was so noble, so imposing, and yet here she was, truly held in his embrace, bared before him, willingly surrendering to his every desire.
If he wanted her, how could she ever refuse him?
Heaven knew how long she had yearned for him, how deeply she had craved this.
The sliver of reason she had regained vanished the moment his teeth closed over her lips. A single kiss, a single glance, and she was utterly, irrevocably lost to him.
Her movements grew frantic as she kissed his eye, then the straight bridge of his nose, his thin lips, the side of his face, his earlobe, and the prominent Adam's apple in his neck.
He allowed her desperate kisses, his hands returning to her breasts, his touch gentler now, tenderly kneading the soft flesh and rosy peaks.
She writhed, tightening her legs around his waist, and with hurried hands, she stripped away his half-discarded robe. Her red lips and white teeth ravaged his shoulder while one hand slowly ventured downward, past his waist.
Through the brocade trousers, she took him in her palm, stroking and squeezing with varying pressure.
The hot, rigid length in her hand grew even hotter and harder.
She tugged open his waistband, her fingertips brushing over his abdomen, trailing downward to lightly touch him once, then again, before finally wrapping her hand fully around him.
Before her hand could even move, his body stiffened. His large hands shot from her chest to her hips, his fingers seeking her entrance.
A soft moan escaped her parted lips as she threw her head back, her watery eyes meeting his fiery gaze. Her hand began to move slowly, then faster and faster, until his lips stiffened and the caressing motions behind her stilled."Your Highness..." she murmured softly, unable to resist leaning in to kiss his chin again. "How does this compare to that night when you took matters into your own hands?"
He gasped lowly, remaining silent as his arm encircled her waist to pull her down.
Yet she resisted, struggling playfully with a smile. Her legs slipped from around his hips, and her hands pressed against his chest, pushing him back with force.
Caught off balance, he stumbled backward. Without time to release his hold, he pulled her down from the clothing table along with him, and she landed heavily atop him.
The palace floor was cold, their bodies burning hot. A pair of crimson lips hovered before his eyes, trembling peaks swaying delicately in his vision, sending blood rushing to his head.
Without hesitation, she kissed downward, her little tongue gliding over every inch of his skin, heading straight below his waist.
Gritting his teeth with ragged breath, he pressed his hand against her head to stop her movement.
Her cheek pressed against his abdomen, obediently still, yet her hand took hold of him. In the next moment, she parted those red lips, extending her tender tongue to lightly lick his tip.
His body shuddered slightly, the hand clasping the back of her head tightening further.
That night in the Eastern Palace's inner chamber had revealed how beneath her proper and courteous exterior lay a daring and reckless nature. He had known then how irresistible she was to him—merely imagining her leaning over him was enough to make his blood boil.
And now, with her soft breasts pressed against his legs, her smooth cheek resting on his abdomen, her ink-skilled right hand holding him, and those fearless, sharp-tongued red lips performing such an act upon him...
Since the Emperor ascended the throne at fourteen, female rulers had governed the land for over thirty years. Customs across the realm had grown increasingly liberal—women could pursue education and official posts externally, while domestically they could divorce their husbands. Though not every aspect matched men's privileges, their conduct had become far bolder compared to the conservative traditions of previous dynasties.
Yet even so, he never imagined she would understand so well how to please him. His long fingers unconsciously threaded through her dense black hair, his thumb gently stroking the base of her ear.
She remained leaning over him, eyelashes lowered, her tongue briefly licking the corner of her mouth before she pressed her lips together and ceased movement. Even the hand holding him hesitated slightly, merely turning her palm minimally before she secretly glanced up at him.
After all, she was inexperienced. Though bold and fearless, she still didn't know if this was truly the right thing to do.
Meeting her gaze, he understood instantly. Reaching out, he pulled her body up forcefully and slowly embraced her.
A low sigh escaped his lips, his chest growing hotter.
Her head buried in the crook of his neck, she turned to kiss him, her hands instinctively wandering to tease his sensitive spots. But after just a few movements, he suddenly flipped over, pinning her beneath him.
A half-gasp escaped her before she bit her lip and smiled, both hands sliding up his chest to hook around his neck.
His long arm reached behind her back, holding her close as he propped himself up on an elbow, half-leaning over her. He lowered his head to kiss her earlobe, his voice hoarse as he said, "Don't move." After a pause, he added softly, "...Let me hold you."
That voice so filled with entangled desire, those words so tender and gentle, instantly scattered her senses. She almost believed he must love her too.
Her red lips trembled open, nearly forming the question, yet the words caught between her teeth, ultimately remaining unspoken.It wasn't fear that his words wouldn't align with her desires, but dread that his speech might ignite hopeful flutters within her. How many utterances from an emperor truly spring from his heart? How could a subject wholeheartedly trust his declarations? Better to remain as they were—her loving him, her yearning for him—just so. No matter what the future held, she wouldn't... come to hate him.
So she yielded to his words, ceasing her movements, wrapping her arms tightly around him as he held her.
On his right shoulder was a small bony hollow, adjacent to a firm, thick callus. She recognized it as the mark left by years of archery practice, carrying longbows and quivers. Her mind drifted to the riding and archery hall at North Garden a year prior, where he had galloped on horseback, radiating heroic vigor, his imposing presence awe-inspiring all the ministers and officers.
It was as if in this world, with him present, no one and nothing could outshine his brilliance. What woman wouldn't be captivated by him?
Her lips pressed against his shoulder, her tongue lightly brushing over that callus.
He gasped softly, as if snapping back to awareness, his arms tightening as he rolled her over, positioning her atop him once more. One hand pressed against her back while the other gently kneaded her body. "Who taught you all these techniques?" he asked.
His tone was slow and intoxicating, less an interrogation than a flirtation.
She narrowed her eyes, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "Does Your Highness not know that your subject is well-read?"
He brushed aside her long hair to see her face clearly, murmuring, "Even those licentious books?"
She nodded, pursing her lips. "Has Your Highness not heard of the book Careless Words that circulated in the kingdom years ago? Its phrasing is exquisitely brilliant. After I entered court, I even heard that the daughter of Secretariat Court Editor Liu praised it."
He raised an eyebrow, thoughtful for a moment before saying, "I've read it too."
Back when Shen Zhishu was at the Imperial Academy, he had loved collecting such materials—erotic albums, bawdy texts, sensual artifacts, and curious playthings—all smuggled into the palace for him to see.
Hearing that he had also read it, she bit her tongue in amusement, lifting her face to whisper near his ear, "When I was at the girls' school in Chongzhou Prefecture, I even explained the erotic verses from that book to everyone."
He tilted his head, gazing down at her.
Her smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling like water, her lips grazing his ear as she murmured, "'A bald marshal, a vertical-mouthed general; the marshal's spear thrusts solely at the red center, the general's sword ever aims for the purple brain...'"
These were utterly vulgar and obscene lines, yet spoken by her with a mix of seriousness and teasing, in such a soft, seductive tone, they stirred unusual emotions in him.
She continued, "The girls at school secretly passed the book among themselves, copying out its poems and frequently discussing them in private..." Noting his rapt attention, she kissed him before adding with a laugh, "I was the one who understood it best."
He couldn't help but chuckle wryly.
Though he knew she was deeply ambitious, he hadn't expected even this to make her so smug. Watching her bright-eyed, smiling expression, he felt waves of emotion surge within him.
No woman had ever been so candid and unguarded before him, nor had any devoted herself to him with such single-minded affection.
His smile gradually spread, until he finally laughed softly.
She stared, momentarily stunned by the sight of his handsome face lit with laughter, then slowly reached out to trace his brows and eyes, murmuring, "Your Highness..."He took the opportunity to kiss her, his large palm gently kneading her rounded bottom.
She allowed his kisses and caresses, turning her face aside to catch her breath only after a long moment. When she looked back at him and saw the lingering smile in his eyes, she felt moved and whispered softly, "Your Highness looks truly handsome when you smile."
His lips curved again, the smile lines at the corners of his mouth deepening, his heterochromatic eyes half-lidded with a lazy, seductive expression. His hand traveled upward, cupping her face before sliding over her shoulder, two fingers lightly pinching her nipple.
She sighed softly with pleasure, lowering her head to rest against his chest, one leg wrapping around his waist. "Your Highness."
His body still bore the marks of her earlier scratches, faint red imprints scattered across his tan, solid physique, the colors both alluring and stimulating.
Though not as intense as before, his movements now carried even more sensuality, skillfully igniting the fiery currents within her.
Yet he merely continued these touches without further demands, as if he were a completely different man from the one who had torn her official robes and bitten her body earlier.
She closed her eyes lightly, growing more perplexed by him.
He had always been a man of few words and decisive actions, his thoughts difficult to discern. This wasn't the first time she had provoked his anger, and if his previous wild behavior had been venting his rage, why would he now display such tenderness? She could clearly feel his even more fervent desire at this moment, yet she didn't understand why he stopped without advancing further.
"Meng Tinghui." He suddenly held her tighter.
She didn't open her eyes, only murmuring in response, "Your Highness."
He kissed her forehead, his warm lips pressing against her brow for a long time without moving. "I treat you well because I want to."
...Because he wanted to.
These weren't words she was hearing from him for the first time. That night at the night market on Xijin Street, he had said the same to her. But hearing them again now, she felt there was some indescribable meaning hidden within these words.
Still keeping her eyes closed, she said softly, "Naturally, Your Highness does things because you want to do them. Even if Your Highness doesn't say it, your subject understands."
Her nose warmed as another kiss landed there, the back of her neck gently held by his palm. Then she heard his voice deepen: "Not everything I do is because I want to do it."
She opened her eyes slightly.
He lifted her head, his gaze meeting hers, and repeated, "But I treat you well because I want to."
Her delicate brows relaxed slightly. Seeing his serious expression, she didn't understand why he kept emphasizing this point, only saying, "Your subject understands."
A slight smile touched his lips as he asked, "Will you always remember these words of mine?"
She nodded. "Your subject will always remember Your Highness's words."
A hint of satisfaction appeared between his brows. His large hand tightened around her waist as he sat up with her in his arms, his long fingers gathering her hair before he leaned down to place a kiss on the soft white skin of her neck.
She shivered as she felt his tongue and teeth gently grazing her skin, lowering her eyes to look at him.
As someone who trained in martial arts year-round, his waist and abdomen were bare and powerfully built. His noble silk trousers were half-down around his knees, his long legs slightly bent, partially concealing the prominent bulge between his thighs. Yet this vaguely obscured view was extremely arousing.
Unable to help herself, she averted her gaze and gasped lightly, "Your subject fears being utterly captivated by Your Highness like this..."
His hot tongue traveled upward, capturing her lips and cutting off her words. The arm around her waist tightened as he lifted her while standing, then placed her on the red wooden dressing table.Her vision blurred from his kisses, she saw the golden threads of the Blue Dragon Robe shimmering on the floor. The man before her had flames dancing in his eyes, and her own heart was pounding wildly.
She thought he would finally make his move, but instead he leaned over to retrieve the intricate garments and placed them beside her.
He didn't take the inner garment, merely shook out the purple robe with its wide sash and draped it over her naked body. His large hand slipped inside to pull the ties closed before he finally looked up and asked, "Does it fit?"
The cool fabric brushed against skin already sensitized by his caresses, making her squirm involuntarily. Without the inner garment, the purple robe's front remained open, leaving her appearance even more alluring than when she'd been completely bare.
Bracing her hands against the clothing table behind her, she murmured, "The Bureau of Imperial Attire must have followed the measurements of my official robes. It fits perfectly."
He lowered his gaze, gently tugging at her half-open collar as his eyes delved straight into the snowy valley of her cleavage. "This part needs to be tighter," he said.
Her face burned as if on fire, her throat tight with tension. His gaze grew increasingly unrestrained—devoid of earlier roughness or lingering tenderness, leaving only raw desire. She didn't even need his touch; his gaze alone made her nipples harden and tremble.
Though his eyes blazed and his palms burned, his expression remained composed as he fetched the red gauze skirt to dress her. His movements were meticulous and slow, holding the waistband so the thin silk slid gradually over her hips and legs before casually tying the ribbon.
Her face flushed crimson as if about to bleed.
Beneath the skirt lay emptiness, inside the robe remained complete nakedness—this solemn ceremonial attire now appeared utterly wanton and licentious. She realized how inexperienced she still was before him.
Holding her waist, his hand slipped unhurriedly inside her robe as he said hoarsely, "I love seeing you dressed so properly."
That night in the hall, watching her in dignified crimson official robes, his mind had been filled with her bold, provocative gestures. Such contradiction, yet so stimulating that it conjured all manner of depraved images in his mind.
She couldn't speak, nearly drowning in this intoxicating warmth. Dimly aware he was quite different from usual, she had no leisure to ponder his sudden transformation. Glancing over his shoulder at the Blue Dragon Robe and golden belt on the floor, she murmured, "Your Highness, that ceremonial robe..."
His hand continued its leisurely exploration of her body without response.
Darkness flickered in her eyes as she whispered, "When Your Highness ascends the throne soon, seated upon the dragon throne while I hail 'long live the emperor' from below, I fear we can no longer be this intimate."
He remained silent, though his fingers stiffened slightly.
Leaning against his shoulder and receiving no response, she feared she'd angered him again. With a light laugh, she teased, "Your Highness's behavior today might make me mistakenly believe you're quite fond of me."
She'd meant to provoke a response, expecting him to refute her immediately, yet after a long wait, he still didn't utter a word.
He merely turned to kiss her ear, lingering for a long while before whispering, "I don't seek ten thousand years. I only pray Heaven grants me thirty-five—five to consolidate the realm, ten to nurture the people, twenty to achieve peace. That would suffice for this lifetime."She was momentarily stunned, not expecting him to say such things to her. After a long pause, she finally lowered her lashes, tightened her embrace around his back, and said with a soft smile, "Then this subject will accompany Your Highness for thirty-five years—watching Your Highness secure the realm, watching Your Highness nurture the people, watching Your Highness bring about peace... Unless death parts us, I shall not leave Your Highness’s side."
His hand tightened, gripping her waist firmly. "Meng Tinghui."
She responded, wondering why he always liked to call her name this way, and yet she herself loved hearing him call her like that—as if this simple utterance could encompass all he wanted to say and all she wished to hear, even if what he intended to say might not have been what she wanted to hear.
She could feel his intense yet restrained emotions, and discerned the increasingly fierce flames in his eyes. That fire burned relentlessly, scorching her entire body with heat until she could no longer resist his silent invitation.
He stared at her for a moment before suddenly lowering his head, scattering kisses across her exposed skin, then burying his face lower, alternately gentle and rough in his biting kisses against the tender bareness of her breasts beneath her collar.
She hooked her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, closer still, until his hard, burning arousal pressed against her damp, delicate petals. Only then did she gasp lightly by his ear, "Your Highness..."
His palms cupped her soft buttocks, rocking her gently from side to side, letting her be rubbed and shallowly thrust against. Seeing her red lips tremble and her breath quicken, he slightly closed his eyes and called her again, "Meng Tinghui."
The lingering restraint in the man's expression before her made her tremble even more uncontrollably. Below grew increasingly wet, and her lower abdomen felt as if being nibbled by a thousand ants. Unable to resist, she lightly arched her waist, suddenly taking him inside.
A sharp pain made her bite her lip without a sound, her entire body tensing, unsure what to do. She had known it would hurt, but hadn't expected it to be this painful.
He remained still as well, just gazing intently at her. Only when he felt her gradually growing warmer and wetter inside did he slowly withdraw a little, afraid of hurting her.
She furrowed her brows and let out a soft cry—part pain, part shuddering pleasure.
This sound made him even harder and hotter, feeling as if his heart were being bitten between her lips, both sore and itching, unbearably so. He couldn't help but try pushing deeper, and seeing her brows relax slightly, he went further still...
Her hands clung desperately to his shoulders, her face flushed crimson. Below, she felt first pain and itching, then the pain gradually faded while the itching intensified. When his movements quickened slightly, she was overcome with a tingling numbness, unable to suppress her panting cries: "Your Highness..."
He lowered his head to suckle her earlobe, his tongue swiftly teasing. Feeling her tremble in his arms, he freed one hand to push the red gauze ruqun up to her waist. His long fingers caressed the inside of her thighs, then moved to where they joined, gently pressing that sensitive nub above.
Unable to endure such stimulation, she reached up to tug his hair, but her hands were weak, her entire body limp. Her legs wrapped around his waist trembled lightly, and continuous moans escaped her lips.
Yet he gradually stilled, his voice hoarse by her ear: "To the inner chamber."
Her senses scattered by his ministrations, she barely regained awareness when she felt emptiness below—he had already carried her all the way to the inner chamber.
Dark blue hanging curtains draped elegantly, the soft couch covered in cool, smooth silk. Black ceiling, clusters of golden flowers—the entire room brimmed with seductive allure.
As he laid her down, her lower abdomen involuntarily twitched. Lifting her eyes, she saw his expression instantly change. Before she could react, he thrust deeply inside.
Their clothing tangled in disarray. When he reached to tear her ruqun, she laughed in startled protest, raising hands to block him while her legs clamped tightly around his body. Biting her red lips, she experimentally contracted around him.He indeed halted, breathing heavily, his hands gripping her waist tightly as his thrusts grew increasingly fierce. Burying his head to bite her lips, he growled harshly, "You truly are... audacious... insolent..."
Each pause in his voice coincided with the moment he plunged deep into her. Gasping urgently, she reached out to brace against the wall beside the bed, then shifted her hands to press against his waist and hips, her fingertips digging into his flesh. Her entire body trembled lightly, her calves tensed to the point of near cramping.
He abruptly pulled her up, pressing her body against the nearby bedpost. The force of his hips eased, now grinding against her shallowly, while one hand moved to knead her nipple.
Her trembling intensified, her waist instinctively arching forward, yet he deliberately withdrew, leaving her yearning but unfulfilled. After several such teases, she finally whimpered softly, "Your Highness, your subject admits her fault..."
His brow lifted slightly as he suddenly pulled her into his embrace, his palm pressing firmly against her buttocks. With focused intensity, he thrust and withdrew, devoting himself entirely to satisfying her.
She was so stubborn and resilient, yet so pliant and fragrantly soft, making him unable to resist the urge to enter her again and again—even a thousand times would never be enough.
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