Meng Yan's trembling hands remained wrapped around Shen Yu's wrists. Her tear-filled eyes lifted to meet his, utterly stripped of the icy, untouchable pride that had defined her for decades. In its place lingered something raw, devotion, desperate and consuming. In her mind, this god-like doctor was enduring unbearable internal torment solely for her sake.
Shen Yu gazed down at her, golden eyes gleaming with a dark, predatory satisfaction. Slowly, he withdrew his hands from her delicate grip and raised them to cup her flushed cheeks, his touch gentle, almost reverent.
"Senior Meng's willingness to help… truly moves me," he murmured, his voice soft and hypnotic, sending a shiver through her body. His thumbs traced along her jawline, subtly guiding her gaze downward. "The excess Yang fire is gathering at my core. To draw it out without harming your fragile meridians… it must be released from the source."
Her breath caught.
Her eyes followed his indication, settling on the pronounced outline beneath his robes. For the briefest instant, a flicker of her former pride surfaced, an instinctive rejection of the indignity such an act would entail.
But it was crushed just as quickly.
The Heaven's Charm's influence, combined with her growing dependence on his massages, drowned that resistance entirely. The need to please him, to ease the suffering she believed she had caused, overwhelmed everything else.
She nodded.
Shen Yu loosened his robes, revealing himself fully. The sight alone made her heart tremble. Compared to the only man she had ever known, the difference was overwhelming, imposing, almost unreal. A faint heat spread through her body, unbidden.
As he stepped closer, the energy radiating from him was intense, almost tangible. It pressed against her senses, stirring something deep within her Yin-starved body.
Guided by his steady hands, she reached out.
Her fingers wrapped around him hesitantly at first, then with growing certainty. She explored slowly, tracing along the firm contours and pulsing veins, her breath hitching at each subtle movement beneath her touch.
Looking up at him as he stood above her, she began to move her hands, uncertain but obedient. The position was awkward, her body still reclined as he stood behind her head, yet she continued, focusing only on fulfilling his instructions.
Schlick. Schlick. Schlick.
As she stroked him, she felt the growing heat spreading through her body.
Shen Yu's hands moved to her chest, his touch deliberate as he began to knead gently, then more firmly. He pinched her nipples, more aggressive with her than he had been before, massaging her as though staking a claim. The contrast of sensations left her mind hazy, her thoughts dissolving into pure instinct.
Time seemed to blur.
She continued for what felt like an eternity, her movements growing more fluid, more absorbed. Yet nothing changed, no release, no end. Still, she remained lost in the rhythm, her lips parting unconsciously, anticipation building for reasons she could not name.
Finally, Shen Yu spoke again, his tone low.
"Senior… this may not be enough. You should try another way."
Another way. She knew what he meant. She looked at his size and gulped in anticipation.
She nodded and parted her lips wider.
Shen Yu repositioned himself, standing above and slightly behind her upturned face, and slowly guided himself toward her open mouth.
"Senior, lick the head," he said.
Meng Yan extended her tongue and began to do so. The moment she tasted him, her eyes went wide, and then she was licking him hungrily, all hesitation gone.
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
Shen Yu felt deep satisfaction watching her like this, but he wanted more.
"Stop now," he said.
He cupped her jaw and slid himself in inch by inch, advancing until he met the threshold of her throat, where he paused.
"Senior, open your throat wider," he commanded.
She tried, and with a slow, deliberate thrust he pressed deeper, until most of his length had disappeared inside her, only a portion remaining outside. Tears streamed silently down Meng Yan's face as he filled her throat, yet she held still as he established a steady rhythm, thrusting back and forth.
Shen Yu grew more dominant with each thrust, watching himself move beneath the skin of her throat, feeling the absolute power he held over her as he gripped her jaw and drove deeper, his weight brushing against her nose, releasing that primal, intoxicating scent.
Gawk. Gluck. Shlick.
Her mind grew distant.
With each measured movement, the invisible chains binding her to him seemed to tighten further. The proud matriarch who had once stood above countless others was gone, replaced by someone wholly devoted, her identity reshaped by dependence and submission.
Shen Yu maintained his rhythm, his control absolute. At last, the tension broke.
He gripped her jaw firmly and said, "Senior, I can't hold it."
Meng Yan's eyes went wide with exhilaration, waiting for what she had come to crave.
Then it came, a torrent, a surge of warmth rushing through her, and she felt as though she were floating on clouds. She devoured it greedily, gulping it down her throat like a starved beast finally given what it had long been denied.
She swallowed again and again as tears streamed down her cheeks, her hair damp with sweat. And at last, when she could take no more, she coughed and it spilled across her face.
Shen Yu pulled back and finished across her, watching with quiet, dark satisfaction.
Meng Yan gasped as she felt him leave her mouth. She gulped down what remained on her tongue, then ran her tongue slowly across her lips. What had spilled across her face she gathered with one finger, bringing it to her mouth and licking it clean without a second thought.
When her face was finally clean, her gaze drifted upward to where he still stood above her, hard and unyielding. Something shifted in her expression. She rose from the bed, crossed the short distance to him, and lowered herself to her knees, her eyes hazy, unfocused, lost.
"Let me clean it for you, Young Master Tang~"
She began with long, slow strokes of her tongue from base to tip, then worked her way around the head, methodically licking away every trace of what remained. She was thorough, too thorough for someone simply following an instruction. She was beginning to crave it.
Shen Yu watched her from above, her kneeling form before him, her lips and tongue moving without prompting. Then, after a long moment, he reached down, wound his fingers through her hair, and pulled her to her feet.
He turned, retrieved a chair, and gestured for her to sit.
She did.
He knelt before her, parted her legs with steady hands, and looked up at her.
"Senior," he said, his voice unhurried, "the massage still isn't finished."
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A/N: If you're enjoying the story so far, please leave a review — it means a lot!