Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist Chapter 969: Gentle Yet Rough

The moon hung at its peak, a silvery gaze peering steadily through the ornate lattice windows of the Orchid Palace, but within the Sect Leader's intimate quarters, the notion of time melted into a humid, intense mist of raw passion. The atmosphere grew dense, virtually palpable on the tongue, filled with the metallic edge of fresh maiden blood, the fruity notes of overturned spirit wine, and the intense, primal aroma of carnal union.

Wang Jian leaned against the intricately etched spirit-wood headboard of the grand bed, his breaths even and profound, standing in sharp opposition to the labored pants echoing through the space. His exposed form shimmered softly, the Stellar Demonic Meridian Scripture surging under his flesh like an additional vein network, avid and insatiable. Perched on his thighs was Hua Ling, the Young Sect Mistress.

She straddled his form, her thighs clamped firmly around his hips, her slender fingers gripping his wide, battle-marked shoulders for balance. She remained fully sheathed upon him, taken completely. This marked their second session, and the reluctance from her initial penetration had vanished, scorched by the surge of his Yang essence and supplanted by an avid, primal urge that astonished her.

'She adjusts swiftly,' Wang Jian mused, his eyelids lowered as he concentrated on the inner flow of his Qi. 'Her Primordial Yin holds great strength. It acts as a chill stream quenching the fierce blaze of my Stellar Qi. Many women would shatter under my girth, yet her cultivation level lets her expand, to receive him fully.'

He required no seated meditation to refine his energy. The Stellar Demonic Meridian Scripture was a method of dominance; it flourished amid movement, amid the clash of forms and the transfer of vital forces. With each upward push, measured and purposeful, rubbing against her depths, he imagined his channels as drains. Each time he surged into Hua Ling, he extracted a thread of that pristine, core Yin force unique to untouched cultivators. It traveled along his length, a icy azure stream merging into him, then coiled within his dantian, encircling his turbulent, scorching nucleus like a calming wrap, steadying the swift advancements he had imposed on himself lately.

"Young Master..." Hua Ling groaned, her head tilted rearward, her raven locks tumbling down her spine like an ebony cascade. She nibbled her bottom lip, her gaze flickering, immersed in the overwhelming sense of completeness. "It... it feels so full. I feel... hot inside. My dantian is burning."

"That is the power of our union, Ling’er," Wang Jian murmured, his tone a deep vibration resonating through her torso where their skin met. He lifted his hands to cradle her breasts. They felt solid and upright, molding ideally into his grasp, the peaks rigid like pebbles against his roughened palms. "My energy is feeding you. Your energy is feeding me. We are becoming one. You are my furnace, and I am the fire."

He drove upward with greater force, forsaking the utmost care of their initial encounter for a more claiming cadence. Hua Ling gasped sharply, her inner walls contracting around him in a wave of delight that almost drew a vocal response from him. She gripped him fiercely, supremely so, her form striving to extract every bit of essence from him.

Beside the bed, positioned on the soft rug, knelt Hua Yimei. The Sect Leader of the Fragrance Melody Sect, a figure who earned the admiration of multitudes, now served merely as an observer in her own sleeping area. She stood bare, her figure glistening with perspiration and the remnants of their prior joining. Her tresses formed a tangled halo framing her reddened visage, and her ample, weighty breasts rose and fell with each uneven inhale.

She observed her offspring astride Wang Jian. She noted the expression of utter, unrestrained bliss on Hua Ling’s features—a visage Hua Yimei recognized intimately, having displayed it herself just an hour prior.

'I should feel appalled,' Hua Yimei reflected, an odd, warped warmth gathering in her core as she beheld Wang Jian’s strong hands massaging her child’s body. 'I should halt this. I am her mother. I should safeguard her innocence. But... observe him. See how he completes her.'

The notion passed quickly, swept aside by the insistent throb in her own loins and the soul-binding restraint Wang Jian had imposed upon her. The Stellar Yang Qi coursing through her yearned for its origin. Witnessing him claim her daughter stirred not only disgrace; it ignited her to a degree that frightened her. Her core tightened on its own, releasing moisture onto the rug.

Wang Jian parted his lids and glanced toward Hua Yimei. He detected the craving in her stare, how her fingers had instinctively wandered to her own bosom, kneading the yielding tissue as though echoing his actions on her progeny.

"You like watching, don’t you, Hua Yimei?" Wang Jian mocked, his words slicing through the noises of slick contact.

Hua Yimei recoiled slightly, her eyes growing large. "Master... I..."

"Don’t lie to me," Wang Jian snarled. He paused his movements briefly, prompting Hua Ling to whine at the abrupt stillness. He extended one arm and seized Hua Yimei by the nape, drawing her countenance near the bedding. "Come here. Your daughter needs encouragement. Kiss her."

Hua Yimei paused, gazing at Hua Ling, who peered downward with a foggy, intoxicating haze of desire.

"Do it," Wang Jian demanded, his voice allowing no defiance. "Show her how a mother loves her daughter."

Hua Yimei inclined forward. She brought her lips to Hua Ling’s. The contact began hesitantly, laden with remorse, but as Wang Jian resumed his upward drives into Hua Ling, the jolt coursed through both females. Hua Ling sighed into her mother’s mouth, her tongue extending to intensify the exchange, grasping for stability amid the torrent of feelings Wang Jian unleashed.

Wang Jian observed the pair—mother and child—kissing above his member, his pride expanding alongside his arousal. He plunged with increased vigor and speed, his pelvis striking Hua Ling’s rear.

"That’s it," he rasped. "Taste her. Taste the pleasure I give her. Share the burden of serving me."

He let go of Hua Yimei and clasped Hua Ling’s hips, seizing full command of the pace. He hammered into her, forcing her downward until their groins pressed firmly.

"Ah! Young Master! I’m... I’m going to...!" Hua Ling cried out, her frame bowing like a taut string.

"Let go," Wang Jian directed. "Give me your Yin!"

Hua Ling shuddered, her second peak of the evening tearing through her. She squeezed him tightly, drawing from him, her nails scraping his shoulders. Wang Jian bellowed, the rush of Yin force peaking as she reached her height, bolstering his endurance. He withheld his own climax. He restrained it, channeling her release to hone his cultivation foundation, converting her ecstasy into his strength.

As Hua Ling collapsed ahead, heaving and drained against his torso, Wang Jian regarded Hua Yimei. The Sect Leader quivered, her peaks secreting a clear liquid from intense excitement, her core slick and weeping onto the rug.

"You’re jealous, aren’t you?" Wang Jian jeered, shifting Hua Ling from his lap and placing her softly on the cushions.

"No... Master, I..." Hua Yimei stuttered, avoiding his gaze.

"You want it," Wang Jian declared, slipping from the bed and towering above her. His shaft remained rigid, shining with Hua Ling’s essences and traces of blood. It throbbed with formidable life. "You want me to stretch you open again. You want to feel full. You hate that I gave it to her and not you."

He seized Hua Yimei by the wrist and yanked her upright. He skipped the bed this round. He pulled her toward the sturdy wooden dressing table where she once prepared her cosmetics each dawn.

"Bend over," he snapped.

Hua Yimei complied without delay. Her form acted prior to any mental resistance. The binding mark on her soul vibrated, enforcing submission, yet her body’s craving formed a firmer bond. She leaned over the surface, resting her forearms on the smooth timber, thrusting her full, rounded posterior toward him. She curved her spine, offering herself like an animal in estrus.

Wang Jian positioned himself at her rear. He offered no foreplay; she dripped with readiness from viewing him take her daughter. He clutched her broad hips, his thumbs digging into the pliant tissue, and thrust into her with a single fierce stroke.

"AHHHH!" Hua Yimei shrieked, the cry rebounding from the walls.

The contrast in feel was pronounced. Hua Ling provided tightness, a silken sheath hugging him closely. Yet Hua Yimei... Hua Yimei was a clamp. Her seasoned body, forged by ages of cultivation and now hooked on his vital force, held him with a force that seemed to pull at his very spirit. She offered greater depth, more lubrication, and far greater insistence. Her depths felt scorching, like liquid velvet.

"Yes! Yes! Harder!" Hua Yimei called, casting aside all poise. "Fuck me! Break me! Use me, Master!"

Wang Jian complied. He pounded into her, his hips colliding with her rear in a damp, fleshy rhythm that dominated the chamber. Smack. Smack. Smack. He caught her hair in one fist, yanking her head backward so she faced her image in the dressing mirror.

"Look at you," he snarled near her ear, nipping the lobe sharply enough to elicit a bead of blood. "The great Sect Leader. Ass in the air, drool on your chin, begging for it while your daughter watches. Does this look like a Sect Leader to you? You look like a common whore."

In the glass, Hua Yimei viewed her likeness—flushed, frenzied, her lips parted in a grimace of rapture. And behind, mirrored clearly, Hua Ling propped herself on the bed, observing with broad, captivated eyes.

'She sees me,' Hua Yimei pondered, a surge of humiliation flooding her, only to be burned away instantly by the delight of Wang Jian striking her core. 'She sees what I am. A slut. His slut. And I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.'

"Look at her tits, Ling’er!" Wang Jian bellowed to the maiden on the bed, reaching forward to seize Hua Yimei’s enormous breasts. They swung ponderously with each drive, their mass considerable in his grip. He compressed them savagely, working the soft mounds, twisting the peaks until they darkened. "Look at how they bounce! Your mother was made for breeding! She loves this! Her tits are so much bigger than yours, aren’t they?"

"She... she does..." Hua Ling breathed, mesmerized by the ferocity of their union. "She looks... happy. Her breasts... they are huge."

"I am! I am happy!" Hua Yimei lamented, fabricating to shield her child, and confessing to redeem herself. "Master, please! Fill me! Make me full!"

Wang Jian chuckled, a shadowy, victorious noise. He accelerated, his drives blurring into frenzy. He took her until her limbs buckled and she fell against the table, her face mashed to the chilled surface. He persisted. He lowered his stance and continued, rubbing into her from the rear.

"Cum for me, sow!"

Hua Yimei wailed as her form fragmented. She peaked ferociously, her depths pulsing around his length, urging him on.

Wang Jian grunted, sensing his own culmination rising, but he suppressed it. He had more in store. He withdrew from Hua Yimei with a slick sound, abandoning her spasming on the table.

He faced Hua Ling.

"Your turn," he said, his voice gravelly.

Hua Ling required no further invitation. The view of her mother’s ravishment had sparked an unusual, rivalrous spark within her. She yearned to produce those cries. She desired to be the one in his grasp.

She advanced to the bed’s brink. "Take me, Young Master. Please. I can take it. I can take more than her. I love you more than she does!"

Wang Jian smiled broadly. He approached and drew her to the mattress’s edge. He raised her legs, resting them atop his shoulders.

"Prove it," he dared.

He penetrated her once more. This occasion brought Hua Ling no discomfort, merely a blazing completeness that tested her boundaries. She encircled her knees with her arms, opening herself further, yielding all to him.

"Deeper!" she demanded, echoing her mother’s entreaties. "Go deeper!"

Wang Jian assented, embedding himself fully. He bent ahead, clasping her breasts, contrasting them in his mind to Hua Yimei’s. Hers were more taut, rising proudly, buoyant and enduring. He latched onto her peak, nipping it, eliciting her sharp call.

"You are tighter than her," Wang Jian breathed, selecting words to stoke the competition. "Sweeter. You wrap around me perfectly."

'I am better,' Hua Ling considered, a rush of victory blending with her desire. 'I am tighter than Mother. He likes me more.'

From the dressing table, Hua Yimei lifted herself on unsteady limbs. She viewed them. She perceived the gentleness in Wang Jian’s gaze toward Hua Ling—a softness missing in his regard for her.

'He loves her,' Hua Yimei convinced herself, the falsehood shaping her truth. 'He uses me like a toilet, but he loves her. That is good. That is how it should be.'

Yet as she watched Wang Jian’s hips surging into her offspring, a shadowy envy twisted in her depths. The binding mark throbbed, heightening her urge to obey him, to claim his preference. She progressed across the floor on all fours, drawn to the bed like an insect to light.

She arrived at Wang Jian. Unable to contact him during his union with Hua Ling, she rubbed her cheek against his thigh. She lapped at the perspiration and secretions on his skin, cuddling his leg like a creature seeking notice.

Wang Jian peered downward, sensing the moist heat of her tongue. He grinned. He extended a hand and wove his fingers through her locks, tilting her head upward.

"Jealous bitch," he whispered affectionately.

He maintained his drives into Hua Ling, but directed her mouth to his sac with his grasp.

"Make yourself useful," he instructed. "If you want my attention, earn it."

Hua Yimei parted her lips and engulfed him. She tongued and drew, employing her mouth to arouse him from underneath while he claimed her daughter from overhead. She vibrated against his flesh, eager to satisfy.

The thrill of attention from both Hua lineage generations simultaneously overwhelmed his senses. Wang Jian tilted his head back, a deep moan escaping him. The constriction of the child, the expertise of the parent... it formed a heaven of sensation.

"Stop," Wang Jian abruptly ordered, ceasing his movements.

Both females halted, staring at him with broad, anticipatory gazes.

"We are going to play a game," Wang Jian announced, his tone tinged with mirth. "A family game."

He exited Hua Ling and reclined on the bed, folding his legs. His immense arousal rose prominently, slick with the combined secretions of parent and offspring.

"Hua Yimei," he called to the mother. "Sit on the edge of the bed."

She hurried up and perched, her legs hanging.

"Hua Ling," he called to the child. "Sit on her lap. Facing me."

Hua Ling wavered briefly, then followed. She settled on her mother’s lap, her back against Hua Yimei’s front.

"Now," Wang Jian declared. "We are going to enact a little scene. Yimei, you are the righteous, benevolent mother who is trying to teach her daughter propriety. Ling’er, you are the rebellious daughter who only wants to be fucked by her lover."

Hua Yimei’s cheeks burned. "Master... I..."

"Begin," Wang Jian commanded, his voice growing stern. "Or I punish you both."

Hua Yimei gulped. She encircled her child’s midsection with her arms.

"Ling’er," Hua Yimei began, her words quivering. "You... you shouldn’t be here. It is improper for a young girl to be so... loose."

"I don’t care, Mother!" Hua Ling retorted, embracing the part with unexpected fluency. "I love him! I want him inside me! Your rules are boring!"

Wang Jian chuckled. He shifted nearer to them.

"Spread your legs, Ling’er," he instructed.

Hua Ling parted her thighs broadly. Positioned on her mother’s lap, this revealed them both. Wang Jian viewed Hua Ling’s flushed, puffy core, and below, Hua Yimei’s deeper, damper opening.

"Mother," Wang Jian addressed Hua Yimei. "Hold her tits. Keep her decent."

Hua Yimei raised her hands and cradled her daughter’s breasts. Her palms appeared vast next to Hua Ling’s slimmer form. She fondled them.

"You are too wild, daughter," Hua Yimei murmured, moisture in her eyes. "You must control yourself."

"I can’t!" Hua Ling groaned as her mother teased her peaks. "He makes me hot!"

Wang Jian thrust into Hua Ling.

"Ahhh!"

Since Hua Yimei supported her, she experienced each impact. She sensed Wang Jian’s form crashing into her daughter, which then pressed into her.

"Scold her, Yimei!" Wang Jian yelled, driving fiercer. "Tell her she’s a bad girl while I fuck her!"

"You... you are a bad girl!" Hua Yimei wept, clinging to her daughter desperately. "You are letting a man use you like this... in front of your mother!"

"I like it!" Hua Ling shrieked. "I like being a bad girl! Fuck me, Young Master! Ignore her!"

Wang Jian altered his aim. He lifted Hua Ling and cast her aside on the bed. He grasped Hua Yimei and drew her ahead.

"Now the mother," he growled. "The hypocrite."

He entered Hua Yimei.

"Ling’er, scold your mother," he directed. "Tell her she’s a fake."

Hua Ling, driven by the evening’s peculiar fervor, approached on hands and knees. She struck her mother’s breast.

"You hypocrite!" Hua Ling shouted. "You told me to be chaste, but look at you! You’re taking his cock deeper than I can! You’re a slut, Mother!"

"I am!" Hua Yimei lamented, curving her spine as Wang Jian struck her depths. "I am a slut! I can’t help it! He’s too big! He’s too good!"

"Look at those tits!" Wang Jian roared, clutching Hua Yimei’s breasts and jostling them. "They are udders! Milk bags! They exist to be used!"

He slapped Hua Yimei’s breast sharply. The tissue quivered.

"Yes! Use them!" Hua Yimei sobbed. "Use my tits! Use my pussy! Just fill me!"

The skit devolved into pure chaos. Wang Jian fucked them relentlessly, switching between them every few minutes, making them insult each other,