The bridal chamber in the Moonlight Pavilion's highest tower shimmered under a canopy of silk and silver light. Petals of moon-lotus drifted through the open lattice, carried by a breeze that tasted of jasmine and distant waterfalls. Qingyao, eldest daughter of the Pavilion's mistress, stood barefoot on the cool jade floor, her crimson wedding robe already half-unlaced. Ye Tian—her husband of mere hours—watched her with the hunger of a dragon finally claiming its hoard.
"Off. All of it," he said, voice low, velvet over steel.
Qingyao's fingers flew to the final knot. The robe slid down her shoulders, pooling like spilled wine. Moonlight painted her skin pearl-white, nipples tightening under his stare. Ye Tian stripped in three fluid motions, revealing the hard planes of a body forged in mountain trials. His c*ck jutted proud and thick, already leaking at the tip.
He seized her waist, lifted her onto the wide bed, and knelt between her thighs. "Touch me, wife."
Her small hand wrapped around his d*ck, stroking slow, then faster when he growled approval. The slick sound of skin on skin mingled with her breathy whimpers. Ye Tian's hips rolled into her grip, guiding her rhythm until his c*ck throbbed hot and urgent.
"Open your mouth."
Qingyao sank to her knees on the silk sheets. She licked a stripe up the underside, swirled her tongue around the swollen head, then took him deep. Ye Tian's fingers tangled in her hair, setting a relentless pace.
"F*ck—yes, just like that," he rasped. She moaned around him, the vibration ripping a guttural groan from his chest. Saliva slicked her chin; tears pricked her eyes, but she didn't stop until he yanked her off with a snarl, painting her tongue and lips with the first hot pulse of release.
**Round One** ended with her gasping, throat raw, his taste lingering.
He flipped her onto her back before she could catch her breath. Fingers parted her folds—already drenched—and two plunged inside. Qingyao arched, a sharp cry escaping as he curled them against that secret spot. His thumb circled her cl*t in merciless circles.
"Come for me," he ordered.
She shattered, thighs clamping around his hand, juices coating his palm while she sobbed his name.
**Round Two** left her trembling, oversensitive.
Ye Tian rolled her onto her stomach, lifted her hips, and drove in with one slick thrust. The stretch burned sweet; she clawed the sheets. He set a punishing rhythm, each slap of skin echoing like war drums.
"Mine," he snarled, hand fisting her hair to arch her back.
"Yes—yours—ah!" Her second climax crashed harder, walls fluttering around his c*ck. He followed with a roar, flooding her deep.
**Round Three** spilled inside her, marking her from within.
Still hard, he pulled out only to flip her again. This time he hooked her knees over his shoulders, folding her nearly in half. The new angle dragged the head of his d*ck across her front wall with every thrust. Qingyao's nails raked his back, leaving red trails.
"Too much—Tian—please—"
"You'll take it."
She came again, vision whiting out, a silent scream on her lips. He gritted his teeth, hips stuttering, and spilled across her belly in thick ropes.
**Round Four** painted her skin like war banners.
Sweat cooled; moonlight shifted across the floor. Ye Tian lay her on her side, spooning her from behind. One arm banded under her breasts, the other guiding his still-rigid c*ck back into her swollen heat. Slow now, almost tender—until she pushed back, begging with her body. He obliged, fingers finding her cl*t again, rolling it in time with lazy thrusts.
"Again, Qingyao. Give me everything."
She did—shuddering, keening, tears of overstimulation streaking her temples. He buried his face in her neck, biting down as he came a final time, pulsing deep inside her clenching core.
**Round Five** sealed them, breathless and fused.
They collapsed, limbs tangled, hearts hammering in sync. Ye Tian pressed a kiss to the bite mark blooming on her shoulder.
"Sleep, wife," he murmured, voice rough with satisfaction. "Dawn training begins early—and I'm far from finished with you."
Qingyao, boneless and glowing, could only smile into the pillow, already dreaming of the next clash of bodies beneath the moon.