My Xianxia Harem Life-Chapter 393 Grocery

Riley seized that moment to join Iris at her peak.

His breathing deepened, his muscles tensed, but he didn’t utter a single sound—no growl, no groan, nothing.

Instead, he let the movement of his hips and the fierce, unwavering pressure of his thrusts speak for him.

His body told the story of his desire far louder than any voice could.

Pew

Pew

Pew

His release struck in heavy, powerful pulses—each one stronger than the last—bursting deep inside Iris.

She felt every surge, every rush of heat spreading through her, filling her completely until her entire body shuddered.

The warmth overflowed, sliding out around his still-throbbing length and dripping onto the sheets in messy, wet trails that only reminded her of how much he was giving her.

"Aghhhh..." Iris moaned, head thrown back, fingers digging into his shoulders as the sensation overwhelmed her.

She could feel Riley’s climax expanding inside her with every second, stretching the moment to the point where she thought she couldn’t take any more—but her body betrayed her.

Each new pulse from him triggered an answering wave in her, a fresh orgasm ripping through her like lightning.

Her thighs trembled uncontrollably, her vision blurred, and her voice cracked with pleasure she couldn’t contain.

Riley didn’t stop right away.

His release went on and on, so long that Iris’s belly felt warm and tight with the sheer amount he’d poured into her.

Her body kept clenching around him involuntarily, milking him, begging him, making her gasp and quake with aftershocks.

When he finally slowed, Iris expected him to soften—any normal man would have collapsed, drained, exhausted.

But Riley wasn’t normal.

She quickly realized, wide-eyed and breathless, that he had never softened at all.

He was still buried deep inside her, still rock-hard, still throbbing with need.

It was as if climax only ignited him further.

She could feel that heat, that tension, that intensity still radiating from him like a second heartbeat.

Iris’s hands slid down his back, her nails lightly scratching as she tried to steady herself.

Her body was already overstimulated, already trembling, and yet she knew—deeply knew—that Riley wasn’t even close to done.

Her chest rose and fell in quick, shaky breaths as she lifted her gaze to his.

"R-Riley..." she whispered, a mixture of awe, desire, and disbelief. She could barely form the words. "You’re still... you’re still so hard..."

His answer was a slow grind of his hips, pushing even deeper, drawing another helpless moan from her.

Iris realized then that their first night together wasn’t simply far from over—it was only just beginning.

Every instinct in her body told her that Riley wasn’t planning to stop until every ounce of desire he had for her was poured out... and then poured out again.

Their wedding night, she knew now, was going to last a long, long time—longer than she ever imagined—and she could already feel her body surrendering to whatever Riley planned to do with her next.

And Iris’s guess, of course, proved absolutely true.

Hours later—long past midnight, long past the point where her legs should have given out—her moans still filled the marriage chamber, rising and falling like a song meant only for Riley’s ears.

"Ahhhhh..."

"Ohhhh..."

"Ughhh..."

Her voice trembled, cracked, deepened, softened, then burst out again with each new wave that Riley sent through her.

She had started the night timid, her movements small and unsure, her body learning his touch piece by piece.

But as the hours passed, that shyness melted away entirely.

Now she moved like a woman possessed—drunk on pleasure, hungry for more, her body guiding itself without hesitation.

She rode Riley with wild, intoxicating energy, her hips slamming down and swirling in circles, her hands pressed on his chest or clawing at his shoulders as she chased every ounce of ecstasy he offered.

Her hair was a mess of silky strands plastered to her skin, sweat glistening across her back and collarbones as she bounced on him relentlessly.

Riley welcomed every bit of it.

Every time she collapsed onto him, he held her tight; every time she pushed up and demanded more, he surged up to meet her.

He matched her fire with fire, flipping her onto her back only to pull her on top again, then turning her around to take her from behind, lifting her legs over his shoulders, pinning her down, sitting her up—every position he knew, every angle that made her gasp or cry or melt.

Each change only drew out new sounds from her lips:

"Riley... oh gods... more—ahhh! More!"

"D-Don’t stop... don’t stop... don’t you dare stop..."

"Riley, I—ahhh—I can’t... I can’t think..."

The sheets were long ruined, soaked with sweat and the mix of their bodies.

The pillows had been tossed somewhere onto the floor.

The room was thick with heat, every breath warm and heavy, every small movement echoing with the proof of their hours-long passion.

By the time another hour passed, Iris could barely hold herself upright.

Her body trembled constantly, her thighs quivering, her lips parted in soft, helpless whimpers.

And yet, every time she thought she couldn’t take another second—every time she felt her body melting from overstimulation—Riley’s hands would slide along her waist, his voice low, steady, and full of desire:

"I’m not done with you yet."

Just those words alone made her body respond, made her hips move again, made her moan his name like a woman who had completely surrendered.

It was, undeniably, an extraordinary first night for the newlyweds—one overflowing with passion, hunger, and a depth of intimacy that neither of them would ever forget.

And as the night stretched on without either of them slowing, Iris knew this was only the beginning of the life they were about to share.

***

Noon finally arrived, sunlight slipping through the curtains in soft golden streaks that warmed Iris’s bare skin.

She slowly stirred, her body sore in the most delicious ways, every muscle warm and tender.

A deep, satisfied ache lingered between her thighs—a reminder that she had truly become a woman last night, no longer a virgin but a wife who had given everything to her husband.

A gentle smile blossomed on her lips as she stretched slightly, feeling the sheets glide against her sensitive skin.

She felt... complete. Fulfilled. Cherished. And undeniably exhausted.

She blinked her eyes open, expecting Riley to still be asleep after the endlessly passionate night they shared.

But to her surprise, he was already awake. He sat beside her, half-reclined, watching her with such focus that it startled her.

His gaze wasn’t soft or tender.

It was heated. Intense. Raw.

Iris’s breath caught as she realized exactly what that look meant.

She opened her mouth to greet him.

"Good mor—"

But the words froze as soon as she met the unmistakable hunger burning in his eyes.

Even after everything they had done—the countless positions, the overwhelming pleasure, the hours of lovemaking until her voice nearly gave out—Riley still looked like he wanted her just as much as he did the first moment he laid her on the marriage bed.

"Really, darling?" Iris asked, her voice a mix of teasing surprise and a flutter of nervous excitement. She shifted slightly, feeling the soreness in her hips, and added with a soft laugh, "An entire night wasn’t enough for you?"

Riley’s answer was a slow, wicked grin. The kind that made warmth rush straight through her core.

"Not yet," he said, his voice low, roughened by desire. "There are still so many things I want to do with you, Iris. Things I didn’t have time for last night."

Her cheeks flushed instantly.

"Y-You didn’t have time?" she whispered, stunned that after hours upon hours, he still wasn’t satisfied.

Riley leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke.

"We barely got started."

A shiver ran through her entire body.

Before she could protest—before she could even gather her thoughts—he captured her lips in a deep, possessive kiss. It wasn’t gentle.

It was hungry, claiming her all over again, as if the night hadn’t been enough to mark her as his.

Iris gasped softly as his hand slid up her waist, his fingers warm and firm, pulling her flushed body against his.

His other hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head so he could kiss her even deeper.

Her heart pounded. Her breath quickened. Her body, despite the soreness, responded instinctively—her legs loosening, her arms winding around his neck, her lips parting for him without hesitation.

Riley rolled over her, lowering his body until his heat pressed against her stomach, her chest, her thighs.

Iris felt his desire—hard, insistent, already throbbing—as if he hadn’t spent the entire night pouring himself into her.

"R-Riley... it’s already noon..." she whispered breathlessly.

"And?" he murmured, kissing down her jaw and neck, drawing a trembling moan out of her.

His hands slid lower, teasing her, claiming her, making her body burn all over again despite the exhaustion.

"Iris," he growled softly, lifting her chin to meet his gaze, "I told you last night... I’m nowhere near finished with you."

And with that, he dipped his head and kissed her again—slow at first, then harder, deeper, until Iris felt her body melting beneath him, surrendering all over again.

A moment later, Riley moved between her legs, guiding her thighs apart with deliberate gentleness that made her heart flutter.

His lips brushed her collarbone as his hips pressed forward.

And then—

Another long, passionate, overwhelming round of lovemaking began right where the night had ended.

With Iris gasping, moaning, clinging to him...

And Riley showing her, again and again, just how much he desired his new wife.