The Empress Dowager's Pulse Raced for the Palace Physician novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: Sixty-Nine

Qinglan's own bed was a narrow wooden cot with a straw mattress and a grey blanket.

The Empress Dowager of Daying was kneeling over her face on it.

Murong Yue's thighs were spread wide on either side of Qinglan's head.

Her hands gripped the wooden wall for balance, and her black hair fell in a heavy rope down her back to Qinglan's belly.

Her cunt hung just above Qinglan's mouth, pink and swollen and glistening.

The lamp on the shelf lit the whole of it.

"Lower," Qinglan said, from underneath.

"Doctor, I am afraid I'll hurt you."

"You'll smother me, and I'll die happy. Lower."

The Dowager lowered herself with a shaky breath.

Her wet flesh settled onto Qinglan's mouth.

The weight of it, the heat and the scent and the soft slick give, went straight to Qinglan's own cunt.

She closed her lips on the clit and sucked.

The Dowager's knees dug into the straw.

"Oh!"

"Don't hold still," Qinglan said, muffled. "Move. Ride my face."

"I cannot."

"You can. Slowly. Back and forth."

A pause, a shudder.

Then the Dowager began to rock.

It was awkward at first, the hesitant roll of a woman who had never taken her own pleasure from someone else's mouth.

Qinglan gripped her thighs with both hands and held her down.

"Harder. Take what you want."

The Dowager's hips moved faster.

She dragged her cunt across Qinglan's tongue in long wet slides, and a high thin moan came out of her.

"Again. Use my mouth."

"Qinglan."

"Use it."

She did.

She pressed down and ground, her head bowed and her hair curtained around her face.

Qinglan licked up through the slick and sucked her clit between her lips and felt the whole body above her tremble.

Qinglan took her mouth away for a moment and looked up at the slick pink flesh above her.

"Look how wet you are," she said hoarsely. "It's running down my chin."

"Qinglan."

"You taste like honey and iron. Do you know that? I could live on it."

"Stop."

"Why? You like it."

"I do," the Dowager whispered. "I like it when you say it."

"Then I'll say it all night." Qinglan licked one long slow stripe from the hole to the clit and back.

"This is the prettiest cunt in Daying, and it's mine to eat."

The Dowager sobbed out a laugh and rocked harder, and her slick thighs squeezed Qinglan's ears.

It was the best thing she had ever tasted.

It was the Empress Dowager, the sovereign of ten thousand men, riding her mouth.

Before she let her fall, Qinglan slid out from underneath, sat up on the narrow cot, and pulled the Dowager into her lap.

The two of them knelt face to face, naked and slick.

She cupped the long jaw.

"Open," she said, and kissed her, and let the Dowager taste her own wet on her tongue.

The Dowager moaned into it.

"That is me," she said, against her mouth.

"That's you. Do you like it?"

"On you, I like everything."

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