The friction of his final, heavy thrusts sent her over the edge again, her internal muscles pulsing in frantic, rhythmic waves just as he found his own release. Yue's breath came in ragged, broken hitches, her body trembling under the solid weight of him as he filled her completely, the heat of his seed pooling deep inside her. It felt raw, unfiltered and primal. Thank God for the pills, she thought, her mind drifting in a hazy, post-coital fog.
"Are you on your pills?" His voice sliced through the silence, deep and steady, vibrating through her chest.
She gave a small, weary nod against the pillow.
"I want to hear you," he said, his tone flat, carrying that unmistakable Fu family command that brooked no silence.
"Yes," she managed to whisper, her voice a cracked, breathless thread.
"Hmm."
His non-committal response made her chest tighten. She felt her muscles tense reflexively, the old ghost of her ex-boyfriend's rejection hovering in the shadows. Is he angry? Did I do something wrong? But then the mattress shifted. He slipped out of her, a slick, heavy sensation, and climbed fully on top, pinning her gently but firmly with his muscular frame.
He cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with surprising tenderness. "Look at me," he commanded.
Yue forced her eyes to meet his. Up close, his youthful handsomeness was a sharp contrast to the cold authority he wore during the day.
"I am not mad," he said, his dark eyes searching hers. "We can talk about kids later. For now, I need you to keep looking at me, Angel." He leaned in, the scent of expensive sandalwood and salt-slicked skin intoxicating her. "I want to see your face when you cum. I want to see exactly how I pleasure you. So, Angel... look at me."
She couldn't turn away. She traced the silhouette of his swollen, bitten lips and the hard, sweat-sheened planes of his eight-pack. Her eyes drifted lower, catching sight of him—thick, veiny, and remarkably, impossibly erect again. Her throat went bone-dry. That was inside me? The sheer size of him looked like something out of the dark romance novels she'd read in secret, yet the lingering throb in her core confirmed it was real.
She swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Look, Angel," he murmured, a trace of a dark smirk tugging at his lips. "I've been nice, haven't I? Not scary at all. Let's try this again."
He moved his hand to her inner thigh, his fingers dragging upward, trailing fire. "Open your legs for me."
She obeyed, her knees falling apart as if her body had already surrendered.
"You're so wet and tight," he growled. To her shock, he dipped his head. She felt the hot dampness of his mouth find the center of her heat. He didn't hold back, sucking the sensitive bud of her clitoris, pulling and using his tongue to penetrate her shallowly with a predatory focus that sent her spiraling for the third time that night. She came undone, her back arching off the silk, her fingers tangling in his thick hair as her cries filled the room.
Before she could catch her breath, he was hovering over her again. He guided his head to her opening, pushing in slowly to let her accommodate the agonizingly good stretch of his girth. Once he was seated deep, the pace shifted into something violent and beautiful. The thrusts became faster, a relentless, rhythmic pounding that shattered whatever composure she had left.
The moans were louder now, impossible to stifle. When she tried to cover her mouth in a reflexive move of modesty, he caught both of her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head. He leaned down, his mouth swallowing her cries, his tongue tangling with hers as he drove into her with everything he had.
"Say my name," he demanded, his voice a low grunt of effort.
"Fu Yao..." she gasped, the name a broken prayer.
"Say what you want."
"Fu Yao... ah... don't stop! Please, don't stop!"
"Fuck," he groaned, his composure finally snapping. "You're so fucking good, Yue."
The night became a blur of friction and fever, a cycle of pleasure that didn't end until her limbs felt like lead and her eyes refused to stay open. Finally, he pulled her into his chest, his heartbeat a steady, heavy drum against her ear.
"Sleep, my Angel," he whispered into her hair, his arms locking around her as if she were the most precious thing he owned. For the first time since the wedding, Yue drifted off without the weight of the world on her shoulders.