Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World-Chapter 323 - Tianlong Surrender

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Chapter 323: Chapter 323 - Tianlong Surrender

A cold, sharp, possessive fury sliced through Xiang.

She had just gone through the trouble of containing the little distractions, only to find him preparing to leave.

"Let’s move out?" she repeated, her voice dripping with a silken danger that made the air in the velvet-draped room grow heavy, charged with ozone and her own dark intent.

"You just returned, and now we are leaving for the inner circles?"

Akane, the white-haired fox-eared woman, looked between them, her golden eyes wide with a tension she clearly didn’t understand.

"Xiang, he’s right. The situation is—"

"Quiet, little fox," Xiang purred, not even glancing at her. Her entire focus was on Tianlong as she began to move towards him, her black robes whispering against the plush carpet.

Each step was a deliberate, predatory glide, her hips swaying with a promise of violence and pleasure. "I came here for my husband, not for a mission briefing."

She saw it then: a flicker in his crimson-gold eyes, a microscopic tightening of the muscle in his jaw. It wasn’t the look of a commander changing plans; it was the look of a man who had stared into an abyss and seen it stare back.

He was a fortress of calm, but she knew the cracks in his walls better than anyone. She had helped build some of them.

"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice softening as she closed the distance.

Her body moved with a liquid grace until she was standing directly in front of him, the scent of him—ozone, old magic, and something cold and ancient that chilled her to the bone—filling her senses.

He tried to deflect, a faint, forced smile touching his lips. "The plan has changed. The academy is no longer the priority."

"We’re leaving for the Major Clans. Immediately."

He reached out, his thumb brushing her cheek in a gesture meant to be placating. "Don’t worry your pretty head." 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Xiang didn’t flinch. She saw past the casual touch, past the teasing words.

She saw the sheer, soul-deep terror churning behind his eyes, an existential panic he was barely containing. He wasn’t running from a battle; he was fleeing a ghost.

Her hand came up, covering his. She pressed her palm against his cheek, her fingers threading into the hair at his temple.

"What happened?" she whispered, her violet eyes boring into his, demanding the truth.

For a second, the mask almost broke. His smile faltered, his gaze losing focus.

But he held on, his jaw tightening. "Nothing you need to be concerned with."

His eyes, however, betrayed him.

They weren’t just focused; they were haunted.

Xiang’s lips curved into a knowing, dangerous smile. He wouldn’t tell her with words.

Fine. She knew other ways.

With a slow, deliberate grace that was both a submission and a declaration of power, she sank to her knees before him. Her gaze never left his as she descended, the black silk of her robes pooling around her like spilled ink.

Three obsidian butterflies, manifestations of her will, detached from her dress and began to flutter lazily around her head, their wings silent as the grave.

Her hand moved from his cheek, gliding down his chest, over the hard planes of his stomach, to the front of his robes. "I am not like Akane, honey," she murmured, her voice a low thrum of possessive intent.

Her fingers found the tie of his trousers. "A man who changes plans so quickly is running scared.

"You don’t need a battle plan. You need an anchor."

With a flick of her wrist, her fingers worked the fabric open. Her eyes widened just a fraction as she freed him.

He was already half-hard, thick and heavy, a drop of clear fluid glistening at the slit in the angry purple head. The veins stood out like cords of power wrapped around the nine-inch length.

Her hand wasn’t large enough to wrap fully around him. It was a weapon, and she was its master.

She held his shaft, lifting it, revealing the heavy weight of his balls beneath. Akane gasped from behind them, a sharp intake of breath that Xiang utterly ignored.

She leaned forward, the tip of her tongue darting out to trace a wet line across the taut skin of his scrotum. He hissed, his fingers instantly tangling in her hair, gripping tight.

"What are you doing?" Akane’s voice was sharp with disbelief and a hint of scandalized jealousy.

Xiang didn’t stop. She took one of his balls fully into her mouth, sucking gently, her cheeks hollowing. A low sound rumbled in his chest.

Her violet eyes flicked up to glare at the fox-woman. "Don’t you see?" she said, her voice muffled but laced with contempt.

"Our husband is not well." She released him for a moment, a glistening trail of saliva left behind.

"This is why he can fool you, Akane. You see the commander."

"I see the man."

Akane’s face flushed a deep crimson, her fox ears flattening against her silvery hair. "Just stop it," she sputtered.

Tianlong’s hand tightened in Xiang’s hair, a silent, desperate command. *Continue*.

He had surrendered.

Seeing his silent approval and Xiang’s smug, triumphant expression as she went back to work, something snapped in Akane. Shame warred with a fierce, competitive fire.

With a frustrated growl, she moved forward and dropped to her knees on his other side. "You think you’re the only one who can please him?" she muttered.

Her smaller, paler hands closed around the base of his shaft. He was now fully, painfully hard, pulsing with heat.

While Xiang continued her devoted attention to his balls, swirling her tongue around them, Akane leaned in and took the thick, purple head of his cock into her mouth.

Tianlong’s head fell back, a low groan rumbling in his chest. "You two... stop..." he managed, but his hips instinctively pushed forward, deeper into Akane’s throat.

Akane began to suck, awkwardly at first, her wide golden eyes staring up at him as she tried to take his full girth. She glanced at Xiang, who was working with an infuriating, practiced ease, her tongue now leaving his balls to lick a slow, deliberate path up the thick vein on his underside.

The sight spurred Akane’s competitive nature. She picked up her pace, her throat muscles working, a muffled "Ghk..." escaping as she fought to take more of him.

The combination was devastating. His breath hitched. Xiang’s meticulous, teasing worship of his base and balls, and Akane’s eager, desperate suction on his head.

Akane, feeling Xiang’s tongue moving higher, brushing against her own lips, felt a surge of possessiveness. Her gaze darted towards the bed where the elf, Sylvea, lay.

Dressed in a simple, elegant green tunic, Sylvea was watching with wide, flushed green eyes, still dazed and weak.

"Come and help me," Akane demanded.

Sylvea flinched, but the command was absolute. With a visible tremor, she slid off the bed and knelt behind Akane.

The air grew thick with the scent of sex and magic.

Xiang smirked. "So the little fox needs an ally," she purred, not breaking her rhythm.

Hesitantly, Sylvea’s slender, long elven fingers reached out, wrapping around the thick middle of his shaft exposed between their mouths. The heat of him was incredible.

She began to stroke him, her smooth hands gliding over his veins, slick with their saliva.

Tianlong groaned, his whole body tensed. His hands left Xiang’s hair, one finding the back of Akane’s head to hold her in place, while the other tangled in Sylvea’s long green locks, pulling her closer.

"Good," he rasped, his voice thick with lust. "All of you."

The praise lit a fire under them. Akane pushed herself to take him deeper, a muffled, "Ngh-hhk!" protesting as the crown of his cock hit the back of her throat.

Xiang, not to be outdone, increased the pressure of her suction, her tongue doing wicked, swirling things that made his knees weak. "Gods..." he breathed. Sylvea, guided by the pressure of his hand, quickened her stroking, her thumb finding the sensitive frenulum on the underside and rubbing it relentlessly.

Tianlong’s control was fraying, the terror in his gut being burned away. "Fuck..." he gasped.

"Xiang," he growled.

She looked up, her violet eyes blazing, saliva dripping from her chin. "Yes, my love?"

"Your tongue," he commanded, his voice raw. "On the tip.

Now."

It was a direct challenge to Akane. Xiang’s eyes flashed with victory.

With a predatory smile, she shifted, her mouth leaving his balls to travel up his shaft, pushing Akane’s face aside without ceremony. Akane let out a small, muffled noise of protest but didn’t dare defy him.

She moved to join Sylvea, her hands stroking his shaft while Xiang’s mouth claimed the prize.

Xiang’s tongue was a virtuoso instrument. She licked, swirled, flicked, and tormented the sensitive head. Tianlong was arching his back, his knuckles white where he gripped Sylvea’s hair.

The pressure was building, a white-hot supernova ready to detonate. "Almost... there..." he ground out between clenched teeth.

"Look at me," he commanded, a guttural roar.

All three women looked up. Xiang’s mouth was full, her violet eyes triumphant.

Akane’s hands were slick on his length, her golden eyes wide with a desperate need to please. Sylvea’s green eyes were full of worshipful awe.

They saw the god in him now, the terrified man completely burned away.

He erupted, a torrent of his hot, thick seed came with a force that made Xiang choke, a muffled "Glk!" as it spilled from her mouth to splatter across Akane’s face and Sylvea’s chest.

For a long moment, the only sound was their ragged, gasping breaths. Xiang slowly pulled away, a string of saliva and seed connecting her lips to the tip of his now-softening cock.

Akane wiped her cheek, her golden eyes, now filled with a dazed, puppy-like adoration, staring up at him.

Tianlong stood over them, his chest heaving. The haunted look was gone, replaced by a chilling, absolute clarity.

He gently untangled his fingers from their hair. They remained kneeling, looking up at him like loyal hounds awaiting a command.

He looked down at the three of them—his warrior, his vixen, his nymph—kneeling at his feet, covered in his release.

A cold, thin smile touched his lips, holding no warmth.

"I met the Empress today."