With a single, sacred sigh, Parker entered her—slow, steady, like a vow whispered through eternity. Her arms wrapped around his back, nails biting into his skin, not out of desperation but reverence—like she needed to etch the moment into his flesh. He barely registered the sting.
All he felt was the way her pussy closed around his cock, clenching with a silken grip, her warmth wrapping around his hardness like a paradise that refused to let him go.
Balance shifted. Existence bent. And Zhang Ruoyun—fierce, unbending Zhang—softened beneath him like fire melting into stars.
He didn't move. Not yet. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting the heat of his lips spread across her face, to her cheeks, her ears, her throat. Every touch drew out a sigh, a moan—notes of longing that sang of all the lifetimes she'd waited for this to be real. And here, in this life, it was.
When he reached her breasts—round, perfect, rising like moons beneath the silk light—his breath ghosted over one nipple and it hardened instantly, like even the air around him worshiped her. He licked softly, reverently, and the sound that broke from her lips made his heart throb. Her fingers drifted to the other breast, aching for more, and he took the first one into his mouth.
Slowly—agonizingly slowly—he withdrew from her, only to slide back in, deeper this time.
"Ahhh~~" she moaned, her voice barely human.
"Zhang Ruoyun," he groaned against her nipple, his name on her lips a tether, her body clenching around him like it knew no other god.
He stayed there, buried inside her, their foreheads resting together as though afraid the world might interrupt if they moved too fast. His hand slid down her side, fingers splaying at her hip, then traveling lower—feeling the soft quiver of her thighs locked around him. Her body didn't just take him in; it welcomed him like he was her missing half. Her altar. Her storm. Her answer.
"You're trembling," he whispered, lips brushing her jaw.
"I've been waiting," she whispered back, voice ragged. "You know how long I've waited for this, Parker? And I can never get rid of this feeling even if you fucked me for two extended time weeks."
Her wetness was obscene, every thrust met with a squelch of overflowing lust.
His cock disappeared inside her again and again, slick and impossibly hard, coated with everything she gave him.
Her words made something snap in him. Not rage. Not lust. Something older—primordial longing wrapped in eternity. He pulled out again, only halfway this time, then drove into her slow and deep, the kind of thrust that made stars blink and time lose count.
"AHH—PARKER FUCK~—" she choked out as his hips slammed into her, the bed trembling beneath their storm.
She gasped—a sound so soft, it was almost a prayer. Her nails curled into his shoulders. Her legs tightened around his waist.
Each motion now had rhythm—no urgency, no rush. Just deliberate strokes that made her arch beneath him, made her breath catch with each deeper push, her mouth falling open like she was offering him her soul.
He licked down her collarbone, teeth grazing the skin that glowed with sweat and divinity. "You're mine," he breathed, voice thick, reverent. "In every life. In every form."
"And you're late to say that," she said, smiling through the moans, teasing him like only she could—even when her voice trembled from the way he filled her. "Nine lives. You made me wait nine lives, Parker."
He chuckled into her skin and kissed the spot just above her heart. "Then I owe you nine eternities."
His hand slid between their bodies, fingers finding the spot where she pulsed most. When he touched her there—just as he thrust inside again—she broke.
"F-fuck me like I'm your legacy…"
The moan that ripped from her was raw, full, helpless. Her walls clenched, fluttered, squeezed around him as her entire body arched like a bow drawn tight and loosed all at once.
"I want to break on you. You belong inside me. You hear me?"
And Parker, the Prince of Existence, nearly came undone.
"Zhang Ruoyun..." he groaned again, but this time it wasn't just passion—it was worship. He kissed her lips, drank the taste of her pleasure, and whispered into her mouth, "Again."
He stayed there, buried inside her, their foreheads resting together as though afraid the world might interrupt if they moved too fast. His hand slid down her side, fingers splaying at her hip, then traveling lower—feeling the soft quiver of her thighs locked around him. Her body didn't just take him in; it welcomed him like he was her missing half. Her altar. Her storm. Her answer.
Her pussy fluttered wildly as he held himself deep, her orgasm locking him in like a vice.
She clenched around him like her body was starving—like it had waited a hundred years just to cage him again.
"You're trembling," he whispered, lips brushing her jaw.
"I've been waiting," she whispered back, voice ragged. "You know how long I've waited for this, Parker?"
Her words made something snap in him. Not rage. Not lust. Something older—primordial longing wrapped in eternity. He pulled out again, only halfway this time, then drove into her slow and deep, the kind of thrust that made stars blink and time lose count.
She gasped—a sound so soft, it was almost a prayer. Her nails curled into his shoulders. Her legs tightened around his waist.
Each motion now had rhythm—no urgency, no rush. Just deliberate strokes that made her arch beneath him, made her breath catch with each deeper push, her mouth falling open like she was offering him her soul.
He licked down her collarbone, teeth grazing the skin that glowed with sweat and divinity. "You're mine," he breathed, voice thick, reverent. "In every life. In every form."
"And you're late," she said, smiling through the moans, teasing him like only she could—even when her voice trembled from the way he filled her. "Nine lives. You made me wait nine lives, Parker."
He chuckled into her skin, and kissed the spot just above her heart. "Then I owe you nine eternities."
His hand slid between their bodies, fingers finding the spot where she pulsed most. When he touched her there—just as he thrust inside again—she broke.
The moan that ripped from her was raw, full, helpless. Her walls clenched, fluttered, squeezed around him as her entire body arched like a bow drawn tight and loosed all at once.
And Parker, the Prince of Existence, nearly came undone.
"Zhang Ruoyun..." he groaned again, but this time it wasn't just passion—it was worship. He kissed her lips, drank the taste of her pleasure, and whispered into her mouth, "Again."