Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)-Chapter 468: A pinch of NSFW

For a moment, they remained still, their bodies connected, their breaths ragged. Han Xin’s hand stroked Xiang Yu’s hair, a tender gesture that belied the roughness of their encounter.

"Yu Yu... I love you," Han Xin whispered again, his voice soft but unwavering. "I love you so much."

Xiang Yu smiled a small, satisfied expression that spoke volumes. "I love you too."

Han Xin leaned in, his lips brushing against Xiang Yu’s ear. "Let me fuck you again,... I promise I will be quick ."

Xiang Yu smiled seductively and said, "You promise?"

Han Xin kissed his shoulder, trailing up to his neck, his hot breath making Xiang Yu tremble all over. He stared into Xiang Yu’s eyes and said, "I promise."

The promise that was bound to be broken hung in the air, thick with anticipation. Han Xin pulled out of Xiang Yu, his body still slick with sweat and desire. The room was a mess, the desk bearing the marks of their passion, but neither of them cared. They were lost in each other, their desires far from sated.

As Han Xin began to explore Xiang Yu’s body once more, his hands and lips leaving no inch untouched, the scent of sandalwood and plumeria lingered, evidence of their fierce passion.

*** ƒгeewebnovёl.com

Xiang Yu and Han Xin stepped out of the leisure room, the atmosphere buzzing with a newfound energy. Han Xin looked positively radiant, his happiness almost palpable; if he had a tail, it would surely be wagging in delight. In contrast, Xiang Yu appeared flushed and flustered, resembling a cooked lobster that had been bitten into.

Han Xin kept his hand wrapped protectively around Xiang Yu’s waist, pulling him close as if he feared Xiang Yu might vanish at any moment. The warmth of their connection felt overwhelming yet comforting.

Leaning down, Han Xin’s concern shone through as he asked, "Does it hurt?"

Standing directly in front of Han Xin, Xiang Yu cocked a playful eyebrow and replied, "You are asking me that now? When you were doing it so fiercely? Did you even think about it?"

Han Xin’s fingers curled tighter around Xiang Yu’s waist, a sheepish grin appearing on his face. "I was really into it... I am sorry I was too fierce."

Xiang Yu chuckled, shaking his head. "Who said you should apologize?" He cupped Han Xin’s face with a doting expression, warmth radiating from the adoration in his eyes.

He gently rubbed the corner of Han Xin’s lips, where remnants of their earlier activities lingered, his thumb brushing against the ambiguous fluids there. However, Han Xin caught Xiang Yu’s hand, placing his palm on the back of Xiang Yu’s hand. "No need," he said softly before leaning in and licking his lips seductively.

Xiang Yu’s brow arched, amusement mingling with curiosity. He stared at Han Xin, who seemed singularly focused on the moment. With a teasing smile, Xiang Yu said, "Don’t be too distracted. If you fail to govern your people, they will blame me and say that I bewitched you."

Han Xin chuckled, his gaze never wavering. "You indeed bewitched me. And with you by my side..." He leaned closer, their foreheads almost touching, "...I will do my job very well."

Xiang Yu stifled a smile, savouring the warmth that enveloped them both. Han Xin’s eagerness to taste those lips again hung heavy in the air, an electric tension that drew them closer.

Just as Xiang Yu and Han Xin parted their lips, Han Zhan appeared, breathless and frazzled. He had been searching everywhere for them, and when he finally caught up, he gasped, "Uh, you two are evil! I have been looking everywhere for you." He stretched his waist, trying to catch his breath. "I almost got mobbed because of you... tsk, how troublesome."

Xiang Yu chuckled lightly, glancing around. "Where is Little Bai?"

Han Zhan suddenly looked back, his eyes widening as he realized his husband wasn’t following him. "Fuck!" he exclaimed before darting off to find Little Bai, leaving Xiang Yu in stitches of laughter.

"My imperial empress is tired. Let me help him to his room," Han Xin declared suddenly. Before Xiang Yu could fully register his words, Han Xin scooped him up, cradling him in a princess carry.

Xiang Yu felt a little startled, but he quickly chuckled while telling to put him down. "Everyone can see," he whispered but Han Xin like a true pig team mate replied,

"Let them see... I want them all to see." With a grin, Han Xin twirled around, spinning gently with him in his arms. "Be good!" he said playfully, "I will massage you when we get back."

Xiang Yu raised an eyebrow, feigning scepticism. "Massage? Really? You just want to take advantage of me."

Han Xin didn’t deny it, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. Instead, he quickened his pace, determination etched into his features.

As they strolled through the halls of the imperial palace, all the staff stared in disbelief. They gawked at the sight of their powerful lord carrying Xiang Yu so openly, completely at ease in the whimsical display of affection. Whispers rippled through the attendants, their eyes wide with astonishment.

***

In the imperial prison, the sound of boots echoed through the empty space, each step resonating like a tolling bell. For the man sprawled in the only occupied cell, it felt like the sound of death. He lay hunched against the cold stone wall, a shadow of the mighty figure he once was as the imperial lord. Now, he appeared broken and weak, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead with sweat.

His body trembled with each hesitant footfall outside his cell. The faltering rhythm of the boots sent jolts of anxiety through him. He wanted to look up, to see who approached, but dread weighed heavy on his spirit. He half-expected it to be his son, and with that thought came an unsettling realization. He didn’t have the hope to beg for death anymore.

So, he remained still, surrendering to the shadows that clung to his fragile existence. His body ached, but it was the torment of his mind that truly shattered him. Memories of power, of command, and of glory played in a cruel loop within him, contrasting sharply with the reality of his imprisonment. Each painful twitch of his muscles brought with it a reminder of his fall from grace.

The footsteps stopped just outside his cell, and he sensed the presence of another. The air shifted, heavy with unspoken tension. Though he longed to raise his head, to assert some reminder of his former strength, he found no will within himself. It felt futile. Instead, he clenched his eyes shut, waiting for whatever fate awaited him, shrouded in darkness and regret.