From CEO to Concubine

To their credit, the eunuchs were gentle when they lowered Yan Zheyun down. They assisted him into a kneeling position and he tried his best to clutch at the blanket from within to prevent it from unravelling about him. His eyes fluttered open and he found himself on the ground before the emperor. 

What he saw made his breath hitch in his throat. 

The emperor was seated on the edge of the dragon bed. He leaned back on his arms, his legs sprawled outwards with a casualness that Yan Zheyun hadn't thought him capable of. Despite his relaxed posture, he was looking down at Yan Zheyun with an assessing gaze that made Yan Zheyun tense up. He was suddenly reminded of a poem his English lit major dorm-mate used to rave about (1). The emperor's eyes were very dark but there was a sharp glint in their depths that made him feel like he was being watched by a tiger in the forest at night. 

Although, now that the emperor was no longer in his formal attire, he appeared less like an untouchable god and more like a man. 

A very handsome man. 

He had switched out his heavy livery for a thin black robe that was loosely fastened about his waist, displaying a fair amount of a pale sculpted chest. Long legs were clad in loose black trousers. His hair, now undone from its stern updo, softened the sharp lines of his face as it spilt over his shoulders, a simple red cord fastening it loosely at the ends. 

Yan Zheyun had never met anyone who fit his aesthetic preferences so perfectly before. He only realised he'd been staring too openly when the emperor raised an eyebrow at him. 

[…I'll never call Brother Hua a lecher ever again.] 

He tried to lower his gaze demurely but couldn't help the furious burning of his ears, which he prayed his hair was helping him to conceal. He didn't use to blush this easily but this was just one of the many 'benefits' that came along as a package deal upon inheriting Yan Yun's body. 

The emperor didn't say anything for the longest time. His prolonged silence cooled Yan Zheyun's brain somewhat, made him nervous about how vulnerable a position he was in. Despite the thickness of his blankets and the warmth of the underfloor heating, he couldn't stop himself from shivering, cold sweat beading on his brow and trickling between his shoulder blades. 

But the ball wasn't in his court. If the emperor wanted to spend all night watching him on his knees, Yan Zheyun had no choice but to obey. It was small comfort but at least the blankets served as good cushioning against the hard ground. 

Because there were no mirrors around, Yan Zheyun couldn't see what he looked like to the emperor, his face flushed from the heated room, strands of his fringe plastered to his forehead and cheeks, his long lashes a dark sweep on his small, pale face like the brush strokes of pine leaves in a painting. He didn't know that despite how uncomfortable he was feeling, his expression remained serene, the embodiment of the military maxim that an army's defences should be 'immovable like the mountains' (2). 

His calmness rendered him even more breathtaking. But that was all just on the surface. 

Deep inside, resentment simmered in his gut. He could feel that the emperor paid special attention to him, had done so too on all previous occasions that they'd met. Even though the emperor had a burgeoning harem, given what he'd seen of the emperor's interactions with most of the other members, Yan Zhyeun felt that he wasn't being presumptuous in his belief that the emperor treated him differently from the rest. After all, no matter how ascetic the emperor was, he was presented every day with a wealth of choice when it came to bed companions. 

Yan Zheyun was just one of many. So what was the real reason behind these occasional favours? Was it out of interest, out of pity, or merely a ploy to balance the harem out by giving the concubines from influential families a new competitor? In the emperor's eyes, Yan Yun would be the ideal pawn as he'd already made sure that the Yan Family wasn't around to take advantage of his status in the inner palace. 

A concubine with no backing apart from the emperor's 'love' couldn't stir up too much trouble. 

Yan Zheyun was okay with being the emperor's pawn but he had to negotiate an advantage out of it too. 

"Lift your head." 

Perhaps it was due to years on the throne or perhaps some people were just born to command, but there was an edge to the emperor's voice that made him impossible to refuse. Yan Zheyun did as he was told. His quiet gaze was at such odds with his innocent, youthful features, the tranquillity in his expression looking like it should belong on the face of an older, wiser person instead. 

If Yan Zheyun had known what the emperor was thinking, he would have applauded him on his observational skills. Instead, he was worrying about how to achieve his goals now that he was a metre away from the bed he'd been trying to climb for months. CEO Yan was used to manipulating his business competitors but those sharkish tactics were useless in the face of the emperor. Despite deciding to rely on Yan Yun's looks as a weapon, he was still an amateur at wielding it, with some hits and some misses. 

To make matters worse, the emperor had him on his knees right there and seemed content to do nothing but look at him like he was a statue to be admired. How could such a young, fit man have no desire—

"Come here." 

Yan Zheyun reevaluated that last thought. 

The emperor hadn't told him to dispense with formalities, which meant that he was still expected to remain on his knees. Whether this was the emperor's way of demonstrating the power dynamic between them or he had particular kinks, Yan Zheyun was in no frame of mind to deliberate on it at the moment. He tried to move forward but realised there was no graceful way to do so when bundled up so he summoned up the remaining courage that he had for the evening and let the blankets fall loose around him. 

Black hair pooled around a slender waist, like a veil that revealed glimpses of skin beneath it that would have been as white as the unblemished snow if a soft pink glow weren't slowly spreading down a creamy neck to the rest of Yan Zheyun's body. 

The emperor's eyes darkened. Yan Zheyun was watching for a reaction this time so he didn't miss the way the emperor's throat moved when his eyes landed on the plush lower lip that Yan Zheyun lightly scraped his teeth over in a show of naïve hesitation. 

This was good. He didn't seem to have been summoned for idle chatter about his supposedly treasonous family. The emperor wanted him, even if it was for nothing more than a fuck. 

He could work with this. 

Yan Zheyun shuffled closer to the emperor on his knees, triumph surging briefly through him as the emperor shifted his legs further apart to give Yan Zheyun more space to crawl between them. His expression was inexplicable as always but the heat in his eyes belied how he was truly feeling at the moment. Encouraged by this response, Yan Zheyun pressed his cheek tentatively against the side of the emperor's thigh, like a small animal showing affection for its owner. His mind and heart raced as he scrutinised the emperor's every gesture and deliberated hard on each step that he took. 

One wrong move could end this prematurely and set him back at square one, just like an executive team ruining an entire project with one bad strategic call. 

Adrenaline rushed through his veins. It had been a long while since he'd felt such a strong need to win. 

The emperor didn't push him away. He was still observing Yan Zheyun like he was waiting to see what Yan Zheyun would do. It was just as well that Yan Zheyun had no qualms with taking the initiative. 

Long fingers, so thin that they appeared fragile, reached out for the ties that fastened the emperor's trousers. A slight tremble ran through them like the small flutter of a baby bird's heart, lending Yan Zheyun's audacity an innocence that was out of place. He tried to imagine how he would like a beautiful helpless thing to behave if he were still in a rich and powerful position, possibly seated in his office as a nameless, faceless young man kneeling beneath his desk tugged teasingly at his tie—

He tried this experimentally. The emperor wrapped a hand over his to stop him. Yan Zheyun relaxed his grip and allowed the emperor to pull his hand up to have a better look at his fingers. A thumb stroked gentle circles over his skin and it would have been soothing except Yan Zheyun couldn't shake off the feeling that the emperor was mapping the location of callouses on his hands to try and determine whether he'd trained in weaponry before. 

It turned out that the emperor was looking for something. 

"Your skin is thicker here and here," he remarked, brushing over the outer edge of Yan Zheyun's thumb where the flesh met the nail and the first bony protrusion on the left side of his fourth finger. "How long have you been playing the guqin?" 

"…" Was the emperor trying to detract from the business at hand? At this juncture? Yan Zheyun had already steeled himself up and wanted to proceed but he couldn't ignore an outright question. "In response to Your Majesty, this concubine-subject started learning the guqin at the age of five." 

This was true both for Yan Zheyun and for Yan Yun. 

The emperor hummed. "Did your tutors ever mention that your left hand tends to make unnecessary frivolous motions when shifting?" 

Yan Zheyun stiffened. His teacher had but the fault lay with him, not Yan Yun. Despite being classically trained, Yan Zheyun had picked up the bad habit of adding a flair when sliding over the strings. It looked beautiful but made him more prone to mistakes. It had frustrated him when his teacher had pointed it out as no amount of correcting it worked. The habit was too ingrained. 

"This concubine-subject has noticed this problem…if Your Majesty finds it displeasing, I—"

"This sovereign does not." The emperor squeezed his hand lightly. His palm was hot and slightly rough against the back of Yan Zheyun's hand. "Your proficiency is undeniable, there is no need to be humble about it." 

"Would Your Majesty like me to perform now?" 

The emperor let go and leaned back. "This sovereign does not keep a guqin in Qianqing Palace." He waved a hand at an alcove semi-hidden behind a room divider. There was already a ceramic pillow there and a set of blankets, neatly folded. "This sovereign wishes to retire now, you may rest there until the third watch, when the Department of Respectful Affairs will return you to your—"

He cut himself short as Yan Zheyun leaned forward in a rare display of recklessness, taking the end of his trouser ties between his teeth and yanking, his face coming so close to the evidence that despite the emperor's attempts to dismiss him, he was not as collected on the surface as he appeared. 

The ties came undone. The emperor glared. 

"Where is your propriety?" he snapped, reaching out to push Yan Zheyun away but Yan Zheyun caught at his hand. Perhaps the emperor was so stunned by his wilfulness that he let Yan Zheyun interrupt him. 

"Your Majesty, this concubine-subject can play the flute too, shall I demonstrate?" The serious tone he used contradicted the lewdness of his suggestion. 

"You—" This was the first time Yan Zheyun had seen the emperor flustered. Perhaps he'd been too, that time in the carriage, but Yan Zheyun had missed out on it then. 

He could catalogue it now. 

"Noble Lord Yue, your conduct is not befitting your rank."

"This was how this concubine-subject was taught by Sun Momo," was Yan Zheyun's innocent reply, watching in satisfaction as the emperor's expression turned ominous. Revenge against her was only the icing on the cake, he had other pressing matters to attend to. 

The emperor seemed to be operating at a slower speed than normal. Maybe this was because he hadn't envisioned his mild little concubine to be capable of such aggression. To prevent the emperor from regaining his senses and hauling him out for a beating, Yan Zheyun launched straight into it. 

"Does Your Majesty really want this concubine-subject to stop?" he asked. 

The emperor's lips parted but no words came out. Fleeting helplessness crossed his face, gone so quickly that Yan Zheyun wondered if he'd imagined it. 

But it made him soften his voice as he asked again. "Your Majesty, should I stop?" 

The emperor's chest heaved in a silent sigh. The tension between them was like a taut string. If Yan Zheyun just turned the peg one more time, it would snap.

He still didn't answer but he didn't shove Yan Zheyun away when he reached into the emperor's trousers and drew him out. 

There was no time to cringe over how embarrassing this was or how he had no idea what he was doing. The emperor was condoning this and he had to perform. 

The length in his hand was hot and heavy, already impressively hard. He could recall one occasion when his little sister had bemoaned how unfortunate Yan Yun was to be surrounded by all these scumbags and their oversized packages. He'd been torn between scolding her for reminding him that she was reading explicit porn and asking just how big oversized was. Finally, he'd done both and had walked away shaken with the knowledge that readers were fine with the fact that everyone in 'Hurt Me in a Million Ways' apart from Yan Yun was sporting cocks with impressive centimetres and circumference and veins. 

Even though the emperor wasn't one of the scumbag gongs, this universal rule applied to him too.

Yan Zheyun wrapped his hands around the base of the emperor's length before giving the head an experimental lick. It didn't taste as strange as he thought it would. He was rewarded as he heard a low breath hitch in the long line of throat exposed between the loose lapels of the emperor's robes. 

He wanted this. Yan Zheyun could deliver. 

What followed after was a sloppy mess. Despite his valiant attempts, his mouth was too small for the job and he had to resort to dragging his tongue long and languid up the entire length before sucking on its tip, careful to tuck his teeth away after the emperor tugged on his hair once in warning. 

Yan Zheyun mumbled his apology but the hand in his hair remained where it was, fingers sifting through dark strands, gently at first, then tightening their grip when Yan Zheyun grew more adventurous. 

All this while, he remembered to check the emperor's expressions, memorising what made his eyes fall shut, made his jaw clench tighter in a last-ditch attempt to restrain himself from succumbing to the pleasure. 

What a proud man. Yan Zheyun wanted to wrestle some of that iron control from him. 

Power was a heady, invigorating concept, especially power over someone like that. Yan Zheyun was drawn to the allure of it. 

His knees burned and his jaw ached. As he worked his way up to taking it deeper and deeper into his mouth, the emperor let out a long, shuddery breath, losing awareness of his surroundings as his hips jerked upwards to fuck into the wet heat that encompassed him. His sudden participation was unexpected. Yan Zheyun's throat tightened as he choked, pearls of tears forming on the tips of his lashes. At the same time, the emperor's eyes flew open and he yanked Yan Zheyun's head back with a strangled, "Stop." 

Yan Zheyun let the emperor slide out of his mouth as the first spurt of salty release painted his lips and dribbled down his chin, which was already shiny with saliva. The rest of it hit his neck and chest in thick ropes of white.

The emperor looked shaken as he stared at at Yan Zheyun's skin, the pristine canvas that he'd sullied. Yan Zheyun returned the stare with wide, guileless eyes, cheeks flushed and eyes unnaturally bright.

Silence returned to the room. They hadn't been particularly loud in the first place, the only noises besides Yan Zheyun's slurping had been his quiet panting around the cock in his mouth. 

"Get cleaned up," the emperor said after a long while, after calming down. It sounded like an out that Yan Zheyun should gratefully take. It was a sign that he was about to be let off the hook for all but cornering the emperor against his bed. 

But Yan Zheyun didn't want to leave it just like that. He wanted to explore his limitations, had a gut feeling that he could get away with just a bit more. 

He caught at the emperor's wrist and felt him stiffen. But when the emperor didn't pull back, he coaxed that hand forward until it was splayed against his abdomen, the thin layer of muscles there clenching beneath the burning touch.

It was a suggestive position. Any lower and the emperor's thumb would brush against the jut of Yan Zheyun's erect cock. 

"Your Majesty, have some mercy on your concubine-subject?" 

The emperor's brow twitched. "The instructor momos would not have included this in their teachings." 

"No," Yan Zheyun agreed.. "This concubine-subject is asking Your Majesty for a favour."