Chapter 36: Questions. (R18)

They stayed like that for a long breath.

Foreheads together, Clothes still on, the silk under Zhao Wen was already damp from how hard she had pressed against him, and Lin Tian’s cock was trapped between them, hard and aching where her heat had soaked through the layers.

Zhao Wen’s thumb rested at the corner of his mouth. Her eyes were dark. The neat elder look was gone.

Lin Tian put his mouth near her ear.

"Elder, You are already wet through the cloth. I can feel it against my cock. How long have you been like this. Since the hall, or only after I put my hand on your Blossoms"

"That is not—" Her fingers tightened on his jaw.

"Not a polite question, yeah...

Answer anyway, your thighs are shaking. Is that from holding back, or from wanting me to stop holding back."

Zhao Wen turned her face away. Heat climbed her ears.

"You are impossible."

He shifted his thigh higher between hers. Wet cloth smeared against him.

"When I bit your throat, you made a sound. Was that pain, or did it go straight between your legs."

"I am not answering that."

"You already answered with your hips. You pulled me down harder, hooked your leg over me. That is not the body of a woman who wants to stop."

A pout pulled at her mouth. The blush deepened.

"I am an elder. I don’t —"

"You do not what? Get wet for an outer disciple. Grind against his cock through your robes. Let him put his hand on your breast and arch into it."

He matched her eyes.

"You did all of that. Your body is not as practical as your mouth."

"Stop talking Lin."

"One more." Lin pressed.

"Lin Tian—"

"When you told me clothes stay on until you say so, were you protecting me from your art, or protecting yourself from coming on my thigh like you almost did a moment ago."

She shoved at his shoulder. The movement rolled her hips against his cock. The sound she made was short and furious at herself. Wet cloth dragged along his length.

"You are a child."

"And you are soaked." His mouth trailed to the bite mark on her throat.

"You took the pin out of your hair. You accepted the terms. You kissed me first. That is not a woman who wants a child. That is a woman who wants to be fucked and is still pretending she is only testing a residual."

Zhao Wen’s breath stuttered. Under him she was still wet. Every small shift made the damp worse.

His hand gathered her outer robe and drew it up her thigh.

Fair skin, soft. She caught his wrist.

"What are you doing."

"Feeling the skin you will not let me under yet. Tell me something true. When was the last time anyone put their mouth between your legs."

She stared at him. The pout returned. The blush would not leave.

"That is so filthy."

"You are wet enough to soak my pants.Years, am I wrong." Lin said, with a playful tone.

"You do not get to ask—"

"Well, you can admit that this body has been empty long enough, that even a Mid Foundation outer makes it drip."

"You—"

"Does it ache?" His thumb stroked the bare outer thigh higher toward the heat.

"Right now, between your legs. Does it ache for something inside?"

Zhao Wen’s hips twitched against him without permission. A small broken sound left her throat. She bit it back too late.

"That is not—"

He rolled his hips once, slow, dragging the hard line of his cock along the soaked cloth.

"You just pushed against me. Your body is begging. and your mouth is still arguing. Which one should I listen to?."

"My mouth."

"Your mouth said clothes stay on. Your cunt is soaking through them." He watched her face.

"Say cunt. Or say you are not that wet and I will stop."

Her eyes flashed. The pout trembled. She could not say she was not that wet. The proof was against his cock.

" You hate how much you want this." Another slow drag of his hips. "Have you touched yourself thinking about me since the hall, be honest."

Zhao Wen’s face went hotter. She looked away, her silence was the answer.

"You did." His voice stayed low.

"Did you come. Or did you stop yourself because an elder is not supposed to finger herself, over a mixed-root outer."

"Lin Tian—"

"Answer."

"I stopped." The words came out small and angry. "I stopped, are you satisfied."

"Not even close."

His hand left her thigh and slid between their bodies, still over the under-robe at first, palm pressing against the soaked heat of her through the last layer of cloth.

Zhao Wen’s whole body jerked. He rubbed once, slow, along the seam of her, feeling how wet she was, how the fabric clung.

"Even through the cloth you are dripping." He found the swollen peak above her entrance and circled it with two fingers through the fabric.

"Is this where you touched yourself. He heh"

Zhao Wen’s hips lifted into his hand. A broken sound left her. She tried to close her thighs and only trapped his hand tighter against her.

"Take your hand...."

"Say stop and I will." He kept the slow circles through the cloth.

She did not say stop. Her thighs trembled and eased a fraction. Lin Tian drew the under-robe aside.

Bare heat met his fingers, shaved smooth, scalding, slick enough that his first touch slid through her folds without resistance. Zhao Wen’s head tipped back on the pillow. Her mouth fell open.

"Ahn!"

"Recently shaved, smooth, So wet my fingers are already coated." He stroked through her, slow, gathering slick, then found the swollen peak again and rubbed it bare.

"This is what you stopped yourself from finishing. Feel how hard it is. Feel how it jumps when I press."

Zhao Wen’s nails dug into his shoulder. Her hips rolled against his hand without permission. Alluring Yin spiked under her skin. Her breath came short and broken.

"Does it feel better than your own fingers."

"Shut up—"

He slid one finger down and pressed just inside her entrance, not deep, only the first knuckle, while his thumb kept working the peak. "Better?"

Zhao Wen’s walls fluttered around the shallow intrusion. A sound tore out of her that was pure need.

"Better," she got out. "You absolute—"

He added a second finger. Slow. Stretching. The slick sound of it filled the small space between their bodies.

He curled them inside her and rubbed the swollen peak with his thumb at the same time, and Zhao Wen’s back arched hard off the silk. Her Alluring Yin poured in a thick wave.

"You are clenching around my fingers like you have been empty for years." He worked her steady, not fast, deep enough to find the soft give inside her and press. "Have you. Years."

"Yes—"

"How many."

"Enough." Her voice broke. "Lin Tian, I cannot—"

"No, You can. You are going to come on my fingers before I put anything else inside you." He curled harder, thumb faster on the peak.

"Look at me while you do it."

Zhao Wen’s eyes found his. Wet, Desperate. A woman shaking apart on two fingers and a thumb, hips rolling, thighs open, dark hair wrecked on the pillow.

He felt the climax build in the hard flutter of her walls and the way her breath stopped in her throat. He felt water leaking around his fingers, and heat increasing inside her vagina

"Come."

She broke.

Hard, loud. Walls clamping down on his fingers in rhythmic pulls, slick running over his hand onto the silk, Alluring Yin spiking so sharp his meridians had to brace.

Her dark brown nipples were tight under the open robe. He worked her through it until the clenching softened into wet aftershocks and she was twitching under him, wrecked, still dripping.

He withdrew his fingers slow. Held them up between their faces. Slick. Shining in the lamp light.

"This is how wet you are for me."

Zhao Wen stared at his fingers. Then at his mouth. The pout was gone. Only heat and desperation left.

While she was still shaking, he shoved his waistband down enough to free his cock and adjusted the angle against her bare heat. The head of him nudged through the slick mess of her climax, parted her folds, and sank just past the entrance. Tight. Scalding. Still fluttering from the orgasm.

Zhao Wen’s eyes widened.

"Wait—"

"Only the head Elder."

His forehead against hers. He did not push deeper.

"You can still tell me to stop. Or you can tell me you want the rest."

Her walls fluttered around the shallow intrusion, trying to pull him deeper without her permission. Slick ran down onto the silk. She was past pride.

She was the one who lifted her head and pressed her lips to his, hard, almost angry and against his lips, so quiet the sealed room almost missed it:

"It’s fine, do it."