"Do it," Meng Yan gritted out, her face buried sideways into the silk pillow, her eyes squeezed shut in a mix of humiliation and excruciating pain.
Shen Yu didn't hesitate. He leaned forward and pressed his oiled palms flat against her bare shoulder blades.
Hiss.
The moment his skin made contact with hers, a sharp sound, almost like water striking a hot iron pan, echoed in the quiet room. The heat radiating from her was astonishing, it felt as though he had just placed his hands atop a boiling cauldron.
But beneath that scorching heat was the breathtaking softness of her mature flesh.
Shen Yu's internal breath hitched.
Her skin was like premium, warm jade. The sheer tactile pleasure of touching the Matriarch of the Jin Clan sent a violent jolt of pure, unadulterated lust straight to his groin. His "dragon" surged against the silk of his trousers, heavy and aching, but he controlled it by circulating the Primordial Yin Yang Scripture.
Inside his mind, the four-hundred-year-old demon was roaring, wanting to tear the bedsheets away, flip her over, and brutally claim every inch of her voluptuous body.
Yet, on the outside, his face remained a mask of divine, untouchable serenity.
"Breathe out, Senior," Shen Yu commanded, his voice dropping to a low, authoritative murmur that betrayed none of his dark hunger. He didn't pull his hands away. Instead, he applied a firm, downward pressure, anchoring her to the mattress. "Do not fight the cold. Let it sink into your pores. If you tense your muscles, the meridians will lock the fire inside."
Meng Yan trembled, her fingers gripping the bedsheets so tightly they threatened to tear. But slowly, she forced herself to obey the 'doctor.' She exhaled a long, shuddering breath, and her tense shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch.
"Good," Shen Yu praised softly.
He began to move his hands.
With broad, sweeping strokes, he glided his palms across her upper back, working the rich amber oil into her skin. He kept his movements strictly professional but undeniably firm, using the weight of his upper body to knead the tight, knotted muscles at the base of her neck and along her trapezius.
With every push, he could feel the heavy, magnificent weight of her breasts squishing against the mattress beneath her. The friction generated a new kind of heat, blending the spicy, herbal aroma of the medicine with the intoxicating, sweet musk of the Crimson Nectar.
Shen Yu had to forcibly circulate the Primordial Yin-Yang Scripture just to keep his hands from trembling with desire. It was agonizing, beautiful torture. He curled his fingers, using his knuckles to grind into the thick muscles flanking her spine, all while his golden eyes darkened, the pristine gold swirling with a heavy, predatory lust that he would never allow her to see.
"Nngh..." Meng Yan let out a muffled groan. It wasn't entirely from pain. The physical relief of having the agonizing pressure in her back worked away was immense.
"I am moving to the Governor Vessel," he informed her, slipping his thumbs into the deep groove on either side of her spine.
He pressed down hard, digging into the primary acupoints. He pushed his thumbs upward in a slow, agonizingly deep slide, forcing the stagnant energy to move. The oil acted as a perfect conduit. But as the cooling herbs dilated her pores to let the heat vent, the Crimson Nectar quietly slipped inside.
The concentrated pheromones bypassed her Golden Core defenses completely, because they weren't poison, nor were they an attack. They were pure, distilled desire, disguised within a healing balm.
As the nectar entered her bloodstream, Meng Yan's breathing subtly changed. The ragged, pained gasps began to smooth out, growing deeper, heavier, and distinctly wetter.
"Is... is it supposed to feel... like this?" she murmured into the pillow, her voice losing its cold edge, becoming slightly hazy.
"Like what?" Shen Yu asked innocently, his hands sliding down to her mid-back. His gaze dragged hungrily over the sleek dip of her spine, marveling at how perfectly her waist flared out into her impossibly thick thighs.
"Heavy..." she whispered, shifting her hips ever so slightly. "My blood feels... thick. And hot. But not... not like the fire."
"That is the Dragon Whisker Grass stimulating your blood flow," Shen Yu lied. "It is flushing out the stagnant Yin Fire. The heaviness means the acupoints are opening."
He continued his descent, his hands slick and smooth, gliding down the stunning taper of her waist. Her skin, which had been dangerously dry and burning just moments ago, was now flushed with a healthy, rosy pink hue. She was sweating, a fine sheen of perspiration that mixed with the oil, making her glisten magnificently under the spirit lamps.
Shen Yu reached the lumbar region, the delicate curve of her lower back just above the swell of her massive, pillowy rear. He lingered right at the edge, his hands never straying past the boundary of her lower back, not until she gave permission. He used the heels of his hands to press deeply into the dimples just above her glutes, rotating his wrists in slow, deliberate circles.
The physical sensation, combined with the aphrodisiac now heavily circulating through her system, was overwhelming her. Meng Yan's hips gave an involuntary, subtle twitch, arching upward slightly into his hands.
Shen Yu's breath hitched again. 'Incredible,' he thought, his inner demon licking its lips as he stared at the way her plush rear jiggled with the movement. 'She is practically offering herself, and she doesn't even realize it.'
Her Golden Core cultivation endowed her with immense willpower, but she was actively lowering her defenses to allow the 'medicine' to take effect. By the time she realized the 'medicine' was making her lower abdomen throb with an intense, hollow ache, the Crimson Nectar had already hijacked her nervous system.
"Haaah..." Meng Yan exhaled, her lips parting. The pain of the Lunar Fire had receded into a dull background hum, replaced entirely by a heavy, languid warmth that made her skin hyper-sensitive to his touch. Every slide of Shen Yu's slick fingers sent a jolt of electricity straight down to her core.
Shen Yu dragged his hands all the way back up to her shoulders in one long, unbroken sweep, gathering the oil, before repeating the Nine-Cycle flow. Up and down her spine, smoothing over her lats, pressing into her waist.
He didn't need to use force to conquer her. He was dismantling the Matriarch of the Jin Clan stroke by stroke, turning her from a proud, suffering cultivator into a pliant, melting puddle of wax right beneath his hands. And the most beautiful part of it all, she believed he was her savior.