The Empress Dowager's Pulse Raced for the Palace Physician novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Between the Herb Drawers

Yue comes to Qinglan's room after dark and kneels, and Qinglan teaches her what her mouth is for.

The Empress Dowager knelt on the floor of the Physicians' Office with her back against a wall of herb drawers.

She had come alone, in a plain dark cloak with the hood up, past the sleeping guards, with Chunyu's lantern to light her way.

Now the lantern was outside the door and the cloak was a puddle of black wool on the boards.

Murong Yue wore a thin white sleeping gown and nothing under it.

Qinglan stood over her with her robe open and her hair down.

Every drawer behind the Dowager's head said its name in small black characters.

Dried ginger.

Poria.

Licorice root.

Three narrow cots stood empty along the far wall, their blankets folded square, and Qinglan did not look at them.

She looked at the woman on her knees.

"Say it again," she said.

"I came to be treated," said the Dowager.

"Treated for what?"

"For not sleeping." The black eyes lifted.

They were wide and dark and wet at the edges.

"I lay in my bed for two hours and my body would not be quiet."

"Where was it loudest?"

"Here."

The Dowager laid a hand flat low on her own belly.

Qinglan's breath went out of her.

"The prescription is the same as last night," she said. "Take what I give you."

"Yes, Doctor."

"And you do it with your mouth."

"I don't know how."

It was said so low, and so plainly, that Qinglan's chest hurt.

She crouched, took the long pale face in both hands, and kissed the Dowager's forehead.

"Then I'll teach you. Take off your gown."

The Dowager pulled it over her head, and her black hair came down in a river to her knees.

She knelt there naked in the lamplight, full and white and flushed down to the breasts, and waited.

Qinglan pushed off her own robe and let it fall.

She backed up two steps to the plain wooden stool in the middle of the room and sat, and spread her knees.

She was already so wet she could feel the cool air on her thighs.

"Come here," she said. "On your hands and knees."

The Dowager crawled.

She crossed the boards slowly with her hair trailing behind her and her heavy breasts swaying.

She stopped between Qinglan's legs with her face level with her cunt.

She stared.

She was breathing fast, and her breath touched the damp curls and made Qinglan twitch.

"Look at it," Qinglan said. "Take your time."

"It's beautiful."

"It's yours. Put your hands on my thighs."

The long fingers, with the gold nail guard still on one, settled on her skin.

"Now kiss me. Just kiss, like you'd kiss my mouth."

The Dowager leaned in and pressed her red lips to the very top of the cleft.

Qinglan's hips jerked.

"Again," she said hoarsely. "Lower."

Lips, soft and warm, brushed her again, lower.

"Open your mouth."

The Dowager opened it, and her tongue came out, hesitant, and touched her.

It was just the tip.

It slid between the folds once and drew back, and Qinglan groaned.

"Taste?" she managed.

"Salt." The Dowager's voice was hushed. "Warm. Like, like the sea at night."

"Do it again. Flat, the whole tongue."

She did, long and slow, from the opening all the way up.

The flat wet heat of it dragged across Qinglan's clit and made her see white.

"Yes. That."

"Like this?"

"Yes. Again. Don't stop."

The Dowager licked her.

She did it with the clumsy care of a student who wanted to pass, tongue broad and wet, learning the shape of her.

She found the little hard bud and flicked it, and Qinglan's thighs shook under her hands.

"There. Right there. Circle it."

The tongue circled.

It was slow and wet and hot, and the Dowager moaned into her, a low hum that Qinglan felt in her belly.

She had held the pulse of the most powerful woman in Daying.

Now the most powerful woman in Daying had her face between Qinglan's legs and was making hungry sounds into her cunt.

Qinglan gripped the back of the stool with one hand and slid the other into the thick black hair.

"Suck," she said. "Take it between your lips and suck."

The Dowager obeyed.

She closed her red mouth around the clit and sucked, soft and then harder, and Qinglan cried out and arched on the stool.

"Fuck, yes, like that."

The Dowager looked up.

Her eyes were black and glittering over the swell of her cheeks, and her mouth was shining.

"Is it good?" she whispered, against her.

"It's so good."

"Say good again."

"Good girl," Qinglan said, and shivered all over at the sound of it. "My good, clever girl."

The Dowager moaned, and the vibration of it shot straight through her.

"Use a finger," Qinglan said. "Push it inside me while you suck."

A long finger, bare of its guard now, slid into her slowly.

Qinglan clenched around it and the Dowager hummed again.

"Another."

A second finger went in beside the first, and the Dowager curled them, searching, and found the front wall.

"There," Qinglan said, on a gasp. "Right there. Keep going. Don't you stop, Yue, don't you dare stop."

It was the first time she had used the name.

The Dowager's whole body shuddered, and she sucked harder and fucked her with both fingers in slow deep strokes.

Qinglan's hips rolled to meet her.

Her face was wet and she did not know whether it was sweat or tears.

Pleasure built in her belly.

The Dowager's mouth never left her, wet and hot and hungry, working her clit with her tongue.

"I'm going to come," Qinglan said. "Yue, I'm going to come on your mouth."

The Dowager moaned a yes against her.

Qinglan came.

She came with her head thrown back and her hand fisted in the long black hair.

Her cunt tightened around the two fingers in long clenching waves.

She cried out, and bit her own wrist, and the room shook with it.

The Dowager did not stop until she shoved at the dark head, panting and overstimulated, to make her.

Then they were both on the floor.

Qinglan had slid off the stool without knowing it, and the Dowager was kneeling over her with her hair a black curtain around them.

Her mouth and chin were shining.

She looked stunned, and proud, and a little afraid.

"Was that right?" she asked.

"That was perfect."

Qinglan pulled her down and kissed her, hard, and tasted herself on the red mouth.

The Dowager gave a muffled sound and kissed her back with everything she had.

It was a bad kiss, too eager, all teeth, and Qinglan loved it.

She rolled them over on the cold boards until the Dowager was beneath her with her hair spread across the floor.

"Now it's your turn again," she said.

"Again?" Murong Yue laughed, unsteady. "Doctor, I'll die."

"You won't die. You've said that twice and you're alive." Qinglan kissed her throat. "I'm not done with you."

She slid down between the heavy white breasts and took one nipple into her mouth.

She sucked it while her hand went between the Dowager's thighs, and found her wet and open and slick with her own need.

"You liked it," she said against her skin. "Eating me. You're dripping."

"I liked it."

"Tell me how much."

"So much." The Dowager's hands clutched at her shoulders. "It made me feel like the one doing the touching, for once."

"You were."

"Then do it to me. Please, Qinglan. Do it with your mouth."

Qinglan looked up.

The Dowager's face above her was open and flushed and unguarded, and nothing about it looked like a throne.

She moved down, set her shoulders between the pale thighs, and put her mouth on the wet cunt.

The Dowager screamed.

Qinglan licked her slow and wide, the way she had been licked, and caught the clit between her lips and sucked it.

She pushed two fingers in and curled them.

The white legs clamped around her head, and the heels drummed on the floor.

"Yes. Yes, yes, Qinglan, yes."

Qinglan growled and sucked harder.

It was wet and loud and filthy.

The drawers of dried ginger and licorice root rattled in their frames as the Dowager's body bucked against the wall.

She came in under a minute, with her whole body locked tight and a hoarse cry she smothered in her own fist.

Qinglan kept licking her through it, soft, gentling, until she wept.

When it was over she crawled up the long body and lay on top of it, face against the Dowager's neck.

The pulse in the throat beat against her cheek.

It was still fast.

It was not as fast as the first night.

"I can't hear anyone's footsteps," whispered the Dowager. "The whole palace could burn."

"Then let it," Qinglan said.

She nipped the Dowager's lower lip, right under the beauty mark, and the long body bucked.

"Again tomorrow," Qinglan said. "Doctor's orders."

"Every night?"

"Until you can tell me what you want without blushing."

"I'm not blushing."

"You're red to the breasts, Yue."

The Dowager laughed, helpless and low, and pulled her down by the hair, and kissed her.

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