Demon Emperor's Wild Husband

"I'm sure", those words were enough to reassure Li Jun.

Slowly, he helped Zhao Yang out of his clothing, Zhao Yang did not realise but Li Jun was practically nȧkėd too. Once the robes were fully undone, Li Jun threw Zhao Yang 's clothes onto the floor in a crumpled mess.

"It's going to be wrinkled." Zhao Yang 's mumbled when Li Jun bent down and kissed his shoulders.

"I'll get you as many robes as you'd like." He said still kissing his shoulder. Zhao Yang felt like he was melting when he kissed his most sėnsɨtɨvė spot, suċkɨnġ on the area. He let out a cry when he bit down without warning and soothed the area with his warm tongue. He held his breath when he began to kiss lower and lower until he reached his ċhėst. Li Jun got up, breathing heavily. Zhao Yang took this moment to admire his body.

Zhao Yang 's eyes wavered to the rigid lines on his abdomen, forming a solid eight pack. His eyes wandered lower until he saw the prominent v-line. When he looked lower, his entire face incited. There was a large tent. He swallowed and turned his face to the side. Li Jun was back on top of him, capturing his lips. "Mmm!" he mȯȧnėd against his mouth when he grabbed his nɨppŀės, squeezing the meat on it, before kneading the soft flesh. His palm covered it whole, the roughness of his hand against his smooth skin made him shiver.

Zhao Yang let out a tiny whimper when he began to kiss and lick a path to his nɨppŀės, capturing the tip of the neglected by his touch. Zhao Yang gasped his back arching, pressing his body against Li Jun's when he teasingly flicked his tongue over the standing tip. One hand dug into his shoulder blade, holding Li Jun to him whereas the other travelled up his spine. He grunted in approval, his entire body heating up alongside Zhao Yang 's.

"Ah!", he mȯȧnėd when Li Jun's tongue swirled around his nɨppŀės, waves of dėsɨrė crashing over him. "I-I can't…", he urgently whimpered, pushing at his ċhėst, the pŀėȧsurė was too intense for him to withstand. Li Jun did not stop. The more he let out tiny sounds, the more his mouth roamed about his nɨppŀės. Zhao Yang shrivelled beneath him, begging him to continue, but also stop at the same time. His brain was a mess and after Li Jun was done with his left, he moved to his right, leaving the tip perky and hard.

Zhao Yang could bȧrėly speak when he captured his other nɨppŀė and rolled it with his tongue, his hand showing attention to his left one now. Zhao Yang clung onto him, his head tossed back, eyes sensually closed. "Mm...t-this...I-I…", he tried to speak, but when Li Jun began to suck on his rosy tip, he lost all control of his senses. Li Jun began to kiss lower and lower until it settled below his belly buŧŧon.

"Truly sure?" He asked him for the final time, his fingers looping onto the sides of the thin, flimsy fabric.