Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist Chapter 964: Entire Night With Hua Yimei

The oppressive quiet in the Cloud-Peak Pavilion broke only with the frantic, fearful breaths of the Fragrance Melody Sect Leader and the steady, light drumming of Wang Jian's finger on his knee. Perched stiffly on his lap, Hua Yimei remained frozen under the crushing force of the Stellar Gravity Suppression Formation. She donned the elaborate, multi-layered ritual robes befitting her role—opulent purple and gold silk outfits symbolizing her power, her honor, and the long legacy of customs she preserved. To outsiders, those robes served as protective armor.

Yet to Wang Jian, they were nothing more than packaging on a present he had unwrapped, utilized, and taken possession of previously.

His gaze fixed on her, eyes shadowed by a craving beyond simple desire; it burned like that of a victor eyeing a seized stronghold that stubbornly displayed its banner. He extended his hand, seizing the tall, rigid collar of her outer garment. Though the material was dense, etched with protective runes, it seemed as delicate as tissue in his grasp.

'Please,' Hua Yimei begged in silence, her eyes clenching tight as his knuckles grazed her neck. 'Make it swift. Let him seize what he desires and spare me a fragment of my spirit.'

Wang Jian, however, planned no haste. He sought not merely her form; he aimed to strip away her very essence, peeling back each level until nothing but the compliant servant lingered.

RIIIIIP.

In a abrupt, savage twist of his wrist, Wang Jian shredded the silk. The noise echoed sharply in the hushed space, akin to the cry of a perishing avian. He bypassed unfastening buttons or loosening ties; instead, he rent the costly cloth with brute force. The left sleeve came away entirely, baring her smooth, pale shoulder to the chill atmosphere of the meditation hall.

With each rip, Hua Yimei recoiled, her frame quaking fiercely. He destroyed more than attire; he shattered her facade. It was the divide between the Sect Leader ruling over multitudes and the shattered figure he had assaulted in the cavern.

RIP. SNAP.

He split the bodice's front straight down the middle. The golden stitching, crafted by expert weavers across months of toil, frayed beneath his digits. The weighty outer robe parted, dangling from her limbs in ragged strips like a butterfly's damaged wings, uncovering the sheerer, see-through white inner layer below.

The sight struck with intensely arousing devastation. The ruined purple and gold silk outlined her fair complexion like the remnants of a vanquished realm. And within that wreckage, her figure shone as a pinnacle of ripened, bountiful womanhood that no youthful maiden could rival.

Released from the tight ceremonial bindings, her enormous breasts rose and fell. They formed full, yielding orbs pressing against the slim white material of her inner tunic, their vastness overflowing the garment's edge. They shifted with her quick breaths, quivering faintly, proving their tremendous mass and pliancy.

Wang Jian's breathing caught, a rough noise slipping from his throat. He laid one broad hand on her slim midsection, sensing the muscles flutter and tighten beneath his touch as she attempted to retreat. His other hand rose, enclosing her left breast.

He compressed it.

It felt liquid, heated, and utterly yielding. The tissue overflowed between his fingers, shaping to his hold like pliable mass. He assessed the breast's heft in his palm, marveling at its density, how it surrendered fully to him.

'She is at her peak,' Wang Jian mused, his thumb grazing the concealed tip of her nipple via the silk. 'Far more womanly than Ling’er. Ling’er is a delightful fruit, taut and upright, but Yimei... Yimei embodies the whole grove. These breasts were crafted for grasping, for nursing, for ravishing.'

He pressed his face into the curve of her neck. He drew in a deep breath, saturating his senses with her fragrance—a potent blend of bloomed orchids, the sharp edge of dread, and the subtle trace of Moon-Scent Perfume that her daughter had borne in this chamber just before.

He planted a kiss on the tender area under her ear, his lips moist and scorching, drawing on the flesh firmly enough to brand it.

"Your daughter remains youthful," Wang Jian murmured against her skin, his tone a deep rumble that resonated to her depths. "She is a young shoot, fresh and keen. But you... you represent the complete yield. You are at your prime. You were destined for this, Yimei. See how your form responds to me."

Hua Yimei parted her eyes. They brimmed with tears, searing with powerless, futile rage. "You are a demon," she spat, her words quivering with intense revulsion. "A monster."

"And you are my offering," Wang Jian answered steadily, unmoved by her animosity. He nipped at her bared shoulder, firm enough to mark it with a bruise. "You are the toll for her innocence. Never overlook that."

He adjusted her position on his lap. Her voluptuous, weighty rear pressed into his thighs, the plush tissue spreading over him. He sensed her entirety, the warmth of her womanhood seeping through the leftover silk layers. He detected the growing moisture, a physiological disloyalty that he understood mortified her profoundly.

Wang Jian reclined against the divan's pillows, his stance haughty and at ease, thighs parted broadly. "Serve me," he directed.

Hua Yimei went rigid. "What?"

"Serve me," Wang Jian restated, his stare piercing into hers. "As you intended for your daughter to do. Prove that a mother outperforms an innocent youth. Display the expertise of a seasoned woman."

"I... I don’t know how..." she stuttered, averting her gaze, her cheeks aflame with disgrace. "I am a Sect Leader, not a brothel whore!"

"Shall I summon Ling’er back?" Wang Jian inquired, his tone sinking to a menacing hush. "She hasn’t strayed far. I’m certain she’d gladly complete her task. She seemed quite willing to kneel."

The warning struck her spirit like a whip. The vision of Hua Ling, willing and degraded, surged through her thoughts.

'No,' Hua Yimei reflected, dread gripping her core. 'Not her. Never her. I will endure it all. I must endure it all.'

"No," she murmured in despair.

In terror, Hua Yimei pivoted on his lap to confront him. She positioned herself kneeling on the divan, legs astride his, her shredded robes gathering at her knees. With unsteady hands, she extended toward him. She shoved his dark robe from his shoulders, unveiling his expansive, toned chest, marked by scars from combats and cultivation trials.

She compelled herself to contact him. Her gentle, groomed hands slid across his chest muscles, following their contours. The difference was striking—her fragile, light fingers against his firm, battle-worn hide. She aimed for tenderness, imitating a soothing rub, but her palms chilled with fright.

Wang Jian refused to await her pace. He lacked tolerance for hesitant caresses this evening. He seized her broad hips and yanked her close with force.

THUD.

He pressed her torso to his.

Her vast breasts squashed against his solid frame. The warmth surged intensely. The flimsy cloth of her inner tunic provided no shield; the rub of her nipples—stiffening despite her—sparked jolts of thrill through him. The abundance of her bosom surrounded him, plush and enveloping in the most enticing manner.

He clutched the rear of her head, weaving fingers into her ornate hair accessories, tugging until her scalp ached and clasps dropped away, allowing her raven locks to tumble free. He drew her face downward and claimed her lips savagely.

Hua Yimei struggled to seal her mouth, her last feeble stand of defiance. Wang Jian pried it apart, his tongue plunging inside, dominating it, exploring every recess, savoring her terror and her moisture. He devoured her mouth as if despising her, as if possessing her, drawing on her tongue until it stung.

He surged his hips upward.

His enormous member, rigid as stone under his baggy pants, rubbed harshly against her core.

Hua Yimei gasped amid the kiss. A surge of delight—deceitful, undesired, instinctive delight—raced along her senses. To her utter dismay, she sensed dampness building between her thighs, drenching her skin.

'No...' she wailed inwardly. 'Why? Why does this occur? I despise him! I despise him!'

Yet inwardly, she understood. The imprint from the cave endured. Over three days and nights, he had shattered her physique, reshaping her responses to link his contact with fervor, torment, and climax. Her form recalled him. Her form recalled that yielding ensured endurance, and his touch signaled pain's cessation. The Stellar Yang Qi he had implanted within her yearned for its origin.

She severed the kiss, withdrawing, panting for breath, a strand of saliva linking them. "Please..." she wept, tears streaking her cosmetics. "Just... just finish it..."

Wang Jian eyed her slick lips, her reddened features, the rise and fall of her chest with those immense breasts quivering mildly. "No," he stated evenly, a wicked grin curving his mouth. "We possess the entire night. I intend to savor every part of the Sect Leader. Rushing it suits spouses. Shattering you suits me."

He slipped a hand beneath her ruined skirt. His palm glided along her sleek, uncovered thigh, his roughened fingers toying with the delicate flesh of her inner limb. He encountered the slickness there, evidence of her body's treachery.

He seized one cheek of her rear. He massaged the generous tissue, digits pressing deeply, imprinting crimson traces on the pale surface. He relished the sensation of her backside—substantial, broad, and remarkably supple.

"Rise up," he instructed.

Hua Yimei wept, a noise of utter surrender, yet she elevated her hips.

Wang Jian clutched the band of her silk underclothes.

RIIIIIP.

He tore away the final shield. The silk split with a crisp tear, drifting to the ground.

Now fully bared to him, she perched exposed on his lap, her most intimate area vulnerable to the breeze and his scrutiny. Her pussy swelled and moistened, shimmering in the golden glow.

Wang Jian released himself from his pants. His shaft leaped out, weighty, girthy, and insistent. It throbbed with ridges, a tool of domination that Hua Yimei knew intimately. It loomed monstrous, a dense rod of flesh appearing too vast for any woman, much less with ease.

He held Hua Yimei by the hips. He hoisted her upward. She carried real substance, a genuine woman, not a slender slip. Her mass proved considerable, yielding, and profoundly stimulating.

He aligned her above him. The violet tip of his cock skimmed her slick opening, coating his crown with her essence.

"Look at me," he demanded.

Hua Yimei denied him, twisting her head aside, eyes clamped shut. She endured not witnessing the victory in his stare.

Wang Jian captured her chin and compelled her gaze to his. "Behold the man who possesses you. Behold the cock that sustains your life."

She unveiled her eyes. She locked onto his. Loathing and dread battled in her irises, but underneath lurked a chilling acceptance.

He descended her.

Gradually. Bit by bit.

"Ahhh!" Hua Yimei cried, arching her neck as he penetrated her. He expanded her, occupying her utterly. The feeling overwhelmed—a sense of being skewered, of being stuffed to capacity, of being dominated. His thickness strained her inner walls to the extreme, seizing the hallowed core within her.

Wang Jian moaned, his eyes fluttering briefly. The grip was astounding. It surpassed even the cave. Her subdued cultivation base still responded to his entry, her tissues contracting around him like silken jaws, attempting rejection but merely stroking him.

He remained motionless briefly, allowing her adaptation, letting the truth of her plight settle. She was skewered upon him, in his pavilion, as her daughter rested soundly close by, viewing him as a holy figure. The mental burden thrilled him.

"Move," Wang Jian commanded, hands clamping her waist, thumbs indenting her plush tissue. "Ride me."

Hua Yimei shook her head, tears scattering. "I... I can’t..."

"Ride me, Yimei," he menaced, his tone lowering. "Or I seek Ling’er. I’ll shred that red gown from her and ravish her exactly like this."

Shattered, overcome by the ultimatum, Hua Yimei started to shift.

She raised her hips then dropped them. It began awkward, reluctant. But she performed it. She mounted him.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

The noise of bodies meeting echoed through the chamber. Wang Jian observed the entrancing sway of her enormous breasts leaping with each motion. They collided against her torso, swinging wildly, nipples erect and visible through the white shreds of her tunic. They captivated, twin weighted swings of desire.

He yielded to impulse. He extended and captured them, cradling their mass, working them as she rose and fell upon his shaft. He pressed them close, plunging his face into the valley, breathing her aroma.

"Faster," he snarled, swinging one hand to strike her rear sharply.

SMACK.

Hua Yimei yelped, blending ache and surprise, but she accelerated. Her hips found a cadence. The space rang with the slick clashes of their forms and her muffled cries. Her pussy gurgled around his cock, slicked by her own disloyal excitement.

Wang Jian bent ahead. He took her left breast between his lips, drawing fiercely on the nipple via the damp silk, nipping softly.

"Oh god..." Hua Yimei exclaimed, her fingers clawing his shoulders, nails raking his flesh. The feeling proved excessive. The bliss overwhelmed. Her physique turned against her will entirely. Bursts of fiery current raced from her breast to her center.

Wang Jian quickened the tempo, surging his hips to match her descents. He plunged into her, striking her innermost point, rubbing against her womb.

"You belong to me," he breathed against her breast, tone gravelly with passion. "Your cultivation. Your sect. Your body. Even your tits belong to me."

Hua Yimei’s eyes fluttered upward. Her breaths came in brief, harsh bursts. "No... no... ah!"

Her frame seized. She peaked before him, her depths squeezing him in pulsing, gripping waves. She loathed it. She loathed his ability to evoke such sensations, to extract joy from her degradation. She wept amid the climax, her body shuddering without control.

Wang Jian bellowed, detecting her culmination. He seized her hips, pinning her, and drove profoundly once more, embedding to the base.

He unleashed his Yang essence into her, flooding her, strengthening the "shackle" tying her cultivation to him. The Stellar Qi surged through her channels, a token of his dominion.

She slumped onto his chest, sobbing quietly, her pride in tatters. Her body jerked with the climax's echoes, slack and burdensome in his embrace.

Wang Jian encircled her with his arms, caressing her hair as one might a favored animal. He gazed through the window at the moon, a content sneer on his features.

"Good girl, Yimei," he murmured. "You protected your daughter this night. Recall this sensation. You belong to me."

He pressed a kiss to her crown.

Yet he persisted.

He sensed his continued firmness within her. The Stellar Demonic Meridian Scripture circulated his vitality, restoring him at once. His cock stirred, swelling anew in her heat, declining to yield.

Hua Yimei perceived it as well. She tensed against him, raising her head in dread. Her eyes widened, veined with red, brimming with renewed alarm. She recognized this. She recalled the cave.

"No..." she whispered, voice fracturing. "You finished... you released... please..."

She attempted to rise from him, but his hands locked on her waist like steel restraints.

"I stated you belong to me," Wang Jian clarified, his tone free of weariness. "And I am not finished. Did you believe one session would quench me? You know otherwise, Yimei. You know my hunger."

"I can’t..." she pleaded. "I’m sore... please let me go..."

"You endured it for three days in the cave," Wang Jian reminded her harshly, clasping her waist and elevating her with ease. "You can endure it for one night in the pavilion. Hours remain until daybreak."

He overturned her with casual power. He thrust her face into the divan's cushions, compelling her to all fours.

"Ahhhhh!" Hua Yimei shrieked into the pillows as he reentered her from the rear, surging deep in a fluid, relentless stroke.

Wang Jian launched a ferocious rhythm right away. No gentle start this round. He tangled one hand in her hair, yanking her head rearward so she couldn't conceal her expression, obliging her spine to curve.

With his free hand, he reached forward to toy with her breasts as they dangled below. They sagged full and free, oscillating with each plunge. He hefted them, compressed them, struck them.

"Look at you," he mocked, pounding into her with feral power. Slap. Slap. Slap. His hips battered her buttocks in a beat that rattled her whole body. "The Sect Leader... hunched like an ordinary cur. Rear elevated, tits flailing. Does your daughter realize her mother handles cock this way? Does she know her mother serves as a cum-dumpster for the Guest Elder?"

"Stop talking about her!" Hua Yimei sobbed, straining to escape, but he restrained her tightly. "Don’t bring her into this!"

"I’ll speak of her as I please," Wang Jian snarled, plunging further, battering her cervix. "She’s next, Yimei. Unless you satisfy me. Unless you accept every inch. Unless you drain me empty."

He ravaged her without mercy. Time blurred away. He altered poses at will, treating her body as an instrument for his pleasure.

He rolled her onto her back, folding her legs to her chest in a mating stance that let him chafe her clitoris while delving profoundly. He observed her features contort in torment and rapture, compelling eye contact as he violated her.

He dragged her from the divan, shoving her against the chill pane of the window overlooking the sect.

"Look down," he