I leaned back in the ornate chair, the pleasure palace's negotiation chamber humming softly around us like it knew the game we were playing.
The air was thick with jasmine incense—her scent, probably, mixed with the faint musk of arousal that still clung to the room from my earlier "demonstration."
Elder Feng Lianhua sat across the table from me, her pale blue eyes like chips of ice, but I could see the cracks forming.
She clutched that sheet around her body like a shield, her full tits straining against the thin fabric, nipples still hard from the lingering heat I'd stirred in her.
Behind me, Mei Ling stood quietly—my first wife now, her face flushed with a mix of exhaustion and quiet pride, dressed in one of the palace's silk robes that hugged her curves just right.
Lin Yue was off in another room, probably stewing, but that was fine.
This moment was about the ice queen in front of me.
Didn't expect her to be a virgin, though.
When I'd fingered her earlier, feeling that tight, unbroken resistance, it hit me like a system ping.
I'd figured a woman like her—mid-thirties, Nascent Soul powerhouse—had lost it ages ago, maybe in some sect ritual or wild youth, then gone all saint-like after body reconstruction to keep up appearances.
But no, she was pure as fresh snow, her pussy leaking like a virgin's first flood.
That just excited me more—untouched territory, ripe for claiming.
My cock twitched under the table, already half-hard at the thought of breaking her in properly.
But business first.
She cleared her throat, trying to regain that icy composure, her jet-black hair still slightly disheveled from our tussle.
"You speak of marriage as if it's a simple transaction, Zhao Tianlong. I am Elder Feng Lianhua of the Immortal Sect—not some village girl to be bartered. What makes you think I'd bind myself to a... a rogue like you?"
I chuckled, leaning forward, my reformed body casting a shadow over the table.
The Horny God's Legacy thrummed in my veins, making every word feel like a seduction spell.
"Because you felt it, Elder. That 'champagne time' rush—your pussy squirting like a fountain, walls clenching on my fingers while you begged for answers. You called it ecstasy, remember? Hot, overwhelming, like your body's been starving for years. I can give you that every day. But marriage means a contract—a bond. You get what you want from me: power, secrets of my 'heavenly awakening,' even a path to break through your bottlenecks. In exchange, I get favors. Simple."
Her cheeks flushed a faint pink, but she held my gaze, those pale eyes narrowing.
"Favors? Be specific. And what 'wants' do you presume I have? I am not driven by base desires like your... wives."
She glanced behind me at Mei Ling, who bowed her head slightly, still glowing from our dual cultivation session, her rose-glow skin radiant.
I smirked, tapping the table.
"Oh, I know your type. Sect elders like you crave advancement—qi purity, realm breakthroughs, forbidden techniques. You've hit a wall at Mid-Nascent Soul, haven't you? That frustration in your eyes when you couldn't crush me outright. Marry me, and through our essence bond, I'll share my vitality. You'll surge to Late Nascent or beyond. Rough or gentle? That's my call—maybe I'll pin you down and fuck the stagnation out of you, make you scream like you did earlier. Or slow, teasing, drawing it out until you beg. Your body decides how much you enjoy it."
She shifted under the sheet, her thighs pressing together—I caught the subtle movement, the way her full breasts rose and fell quicker.
System pinged quietly: [Target Arousal Detected: Seduction Progress +5%].
Good. She was hooked, even if her pride wouldn't admit it yet.
"You overestimate your appeal," she said coolly, but her voice wavered. "A contract implies equality. What favors would you demand? Sect secrets? Alliances? My body as some plaything?"
"Smart woman," I replied, standing slowly to circle the table, my black suit hugging my muscled frame like a second skin.
Mei Ling watched silently, her loyalty maxed at 100%—eternal, unbreakable.
I stopped behind Feng, close enough that she could feel my heat, my hand brushing her shoulder 'accidentally.'
She stiffened, but didn't pull away.
"Favors like information on the Sect's movements. Safe passage through their territories. Maybe even pulling strings to get me in as a disciple—undercover, of course. In exchange, you get nights like this."
I leaned down, whispering hot against her ear.
"Imagine it: me bending you over this table, fingers deep in that virgin cunt again, making you squirt until the walls are painted. Rough—me slamming into you until you break—or gentle, teasing your clit until you shatter. You choose the favor; I choose the intensity."
Her breath hitched, the sheet slipping slightly to reveal the swell of her cleavage, her nipples poking through like invitations.
She clutched it tighter, voice strained.
"And if I refuse? Walk away with my dignity intact?"
I laughed softly, trailing a finger down her arm—light, but enough to spark: [Light Touch: Vitality +5].
"Dignity? You already leaked all over my hand, Elder. That ecstasy you felt? It's just a taste. Refuse, and you'll wonder every night what you missed. But sure, walk. No hard feelings."
I paused, circling back to my seat, eyes locked on hers.
"Or marry me, and I'll ravage you like no one else—daily, deeper than my other wives. You'll crave it, beg for it. Your power will soar, your body will sing. Deal?"
She sat there, pale eyes flickering with internal war—pride versus the memory of that squirting release, the heat still simmering in her core.
"You speak as if marriage is mere convenience. What of loyalty? Devotion? I am no one's toy."
"Devotion comes with time," I said, leaning in.
"But think: your sect sees you as a tool, a frozen elder untouched by 'base desires.' With me, you'd be a wife—cherished, fucked senseless, empowered. Favor for favor: you get a breakthrough elixir from my palace stocks; I get intel on the Sect Master's weaknesses. Rough—I pin you and make you scream. Gentle—I tease until you melt. Your call on the favor; mine on the method."
We went back and forth like that for what felt like hours—her probing, me countering with creative twists.
"What if the favor is protection?" she asked once, testing. "Guard a sect convoy?"
"Done," I replied. "In exchange, a night of me eating your pussy until you squirt again—rough with bites, or gentle laps. You pick the flavor after."
She flushed deeper each time, her sheet slipping more, exposing the curve of her hip.
"And if I demand your system's secrets?"
"Fair. But then I fuck you missionary, slow and deep, making you look in my eyes as you cum. Or doggy, slamming until you break. My choice."
It was a dance—her anger flaring at denials, me offering just enough to tempt.
She was a virgin, pure and untouched, which only made the negotiations hotter in my mind.
I'd assumed she'd been broken in, reformed into some saintly ice queen, but no—her cunt was pristine, leaking at my touch like forbidden fruit.
That excited me beyond words; corrupting her would be a masterpiece, her SSS-Rank potential making every deal sweeter.
Finally, as the candles burned low, she stood abruptly, sheet wrapped tight, looking down on me with that haughty disdain, her pale eyes like daggers.
"Enough of this farce. I will not debase myself further. Consider your 'offer' rejected."
She turned to leave, robes whispering, but I leaned back with a calm smile.
"Where is my recommendation letter?"
She halted mid-step, body tensing, slowly turning back with narrowed eyes.
"What recommendation?"
I chuckled, crossing my arms.
"Of course... to become a disciple of the Immortal Sect."
Her face twisted in disbelief, the sheet slipping just enough to tease the edge of her full breast.
"You think after this humiliation, I'd grant you entry? As what—a spy? A pervert in our midst?"
"Call it leverage," I said smoothly.
"You felt the power in that 'champagne time' burst—your body awakening to something you've denied for decades. Marry me, and it's yours daily. Refuse, and I'll spread word of how the great Elder Feng squirted like a whore from a mere finger-fuck. But a recommendation letter? That's your way out clean. Favor for favor—entry to the sect, and I keep your secrets. Rough or gentle later? Still my call if you come crawling back."
She stood there, trembling with rage and unspoken want, the choice hanging like a blade.
The ball was in her court... for now.