Mingyu pulled Xinying down onto his cock, pressing in as far as he could go. He didn't move at first, as if asking the room to memorize this: the emperor on his throne, the empress on his lap, the world on the wrong side of a locked door.
She let out a moan of appreciation as her muscles moved and shook trying to accommodate his length and girth.
And when she was sitting flush against his pelvis, his dragon robes wet with her very essence…then he took full control.
The throne creaked once and then resigned itself to its new duty. The servants outside looked at each other once before turning their attention back to the floor.
She braced her hands on his shoulders and rode the rhythm he set.
He guided her with a palm to her back and a second at her hip. He kept that slow control for as long as he could and then let it go with a soft curse against her throat that sounded like relief wearing the shape of a sin.
