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Wei Ying is spread out on his back, thighs pushed up and apart, as his husband fucks him with long, leisurely thrusts. This morning, Lan Wangji feels like taking his time, so Wei Ying arches against him and makes pleased, encouraging little moans, even though his hips are cramping a bit from holding this position so long.
It's not bad, really. Wei Ying had woken up simmering with low arousal, already damp between his legs. So his husband's cock feels good inside him, even if that alone won't make him come.
Then someone knocks insistently at the door.
"Come," Lan Wangji orders, not even pausing the steady rhythm of his hips pumping his cock into his husband's cunt.
Wei Ying freezes underneath him, breath stuttering, as Lan Wangji's majordomo ducks around the privacy screen. His eyes are decorously lowered to the scroll in his hands, but he's still right there, seeing how Wei Ying is wantonly spread open for his husband. Perhaps he can't see the pink of Wei Ying's pussy from that angle, or the obscene stretch where Lan Wangji's cock is disappearing into Wei Ying's body. But still!
Lan Wangji notices Wei Ying's mistake and frowns down at him. Wei Ying recoverers quickly, letting his head fall back, baring the vulnerable column of his neck to Lan Wangji's gaze. If that allows him to look away from the majordomo, then that's just a happy accident. He offers soft sighs and hums of pleasure, clear encouragement to his husband that his attentions are wanted and appreciated, but soft enough not to interrupt the conversation Lan Wangji is having with an uninvolved third party while he plows Wei Ying's pussy.
The majordomo leaves, and Lan Wangji looks back at his husband. He sighs a little. "Unfortunately, I'm needed in meetings soon," he says apologetically.
Wei Ying hums sympathetically and tips his head up for Lan Wangji to kiss when he leans in.
Lan Wangji finally gives up his long, lazy fuck and starts to thrust with purpose into Wei Ying's body.
Wei Ying listens carefully, increasing his own moans as Lan Wangji's grow louder. He allows the crescendo to build until Lan Wangji stills and fills Wei Ying's pussy with his hot come. A bare half second later, he bucks his hips several times like he just can't help it, then arches off the bed, letting out a lilting, high-pitched moan that his husband has particularly enjoyed hearing in the past.
He strokes his husband's hair and down his back while Lan Wangji lays collapsed on top of him for a few minutes, coming down and cock softening.
He bids his husband farewell and wishes him a good day with a sweet parting kiss.
As soon as the door closes behind Lan Wangji, Wei Ying pulls the blankets back up over his body and jams his hand between his legs, rubbing desperately at his clit. He keeps his mouth pressed together hard. He's always mindful of the servants who are everywhere in the palace, working and listening.
He must be quick, and he must be silent. But if Wei Ying doesn't come right this instant, he is going to lose his mind. His husband's cock can keep him balanced on the knife's edge for ages without ever pushing him over into climax. It takes less than a minute of working his clit furiously for Wei Ying to come, trying to stay still, but rolling his hips in small circles against his fingers, drawing out the last of his pleasure.
Wei Ying supposes he shouldn't be so bothered about Lan Wangji essentially taking a business meeting in the middle of fucking him. It's not nearly as bad as how their wedding night was observed by elders from both their clans, to ensure proper consummation as per the terms of the treaty.
The Wedding Night
There are lamps illuminating the large bed draped in red silk, but the rest of the chamber is dim. Wei Ying is glad. That makes it easier to pretend they're not there, not watching him while he's—exposed and humiliated—no, it's not supposed to be humiliating. It's just meant to ensure that the terms of the treaty are met. How Wei Ying feels about it doesn't matter either way. So he tries not to feel anything about it.
He's stripped of all his wedding finery by servants with efficient, dispassionate hands. There are worse things their hands could be, Wei Ying knows. He tries not to shiver once he's standing there naked on the dais. It's not cold. The room has been kept warm by multiple braziers in deference to the fact that its most prominent occupants will be nude.
Wei Ying is made to lie back on the bed and open his legs while an elderly Lan physician spreads his labia apart, squinting at his pussy with clinical detachment and poking dry fingers around the entrance to his cunt, hooking one inside and pulling slightly. It stings, and Wei Ying makes a little sound of discomfort, despite his efforts to stay silent.
The exam seems to take ages. Every second that this uncaring stranger is touching Wei Ying's most intimate parts seems to stretch out excruciatingly. But really it's barely any time at all before the physician is taking his hands away and stepping back. He turns to address the shadowed observers in the room.
"Confirmed. The bride is chaste. The groom may now approach."
Then he steps off the dais and fades into the shadows with the others.
Wei Ying closes his legs and sits up on the bed as his new husband enters. Lan Wangji steps up onto the dais and is similarly disrobed, though he looks far more at ease with being bared to the small crowd of observers than Wei Ying is. His cock is already standing at attention, huge and hard between his legs. Wei Ying tries not to gulp in trepidation.
Madam Yu and her maidservants had sent with him many different oils, salves and the like. They had likewise taught him how to pleasure himself so that his cunt would grow slick and soft, ready to serve at his husband's pleasure at any time.
But none of those methods could be used this first time, not with the exam to ensure his chastity, and not with his husband expecting him to be virginally tight and reticent. His pussy can't be whorishly slick and aroused. He's not supposed to know about such things, not supposed to be touched sexually, even by himself, prior to being claimed by his husband.
In this moment, he's grateful not to be wholly ignorant of what's to come, as mortifying as his training had been. He remembers the way Madam Yu had sneered when she talked of such things. Alphas wanted the illusion of innocence, she said. "But then they expect you to become a desperate slut the second they bless you with the gift of their cock." She had rolled her eyes. "A desperate slut exclusively for them, of course."
It's this performance that Wei Ying is moments away from enacting. He fervently hopes that being breached by that massive pillar doesn't hurt too much for him to hide it. Wei Ying is an expert at hiding when he's hurting, but even he has his limits. Why does his husband have to be so well endowed?
Said husband, fully undressed, joins him on the bed. He starts slow, like he's trying not to spook Wei Ying. Wei Ying is grateful. He reaches out and brushes a lock of hair back from Wei Ying's face, caressing his cheek as he does it. Wei Ying doesn't have to fake the shiver that goes through him from that touch. He's so keyed up, and the light, tender contact sets his nerves alight immediately.
Lan Wangji draws him up onto his knees, face to face, offering the observers a profile view. He draws Wei Ying into a kiss—his first. And, oh, this is nice. He would enjoy it more if they were alone, but still, the slide of Lan Wangji's lips and tongue against his own is pleasurable. Enough so that his pussy starts to take an interest.
Wei Ying is pathetically grateful to notice this. Every little bit of slick he can coax his cunt to produce will make this easier. He tries very hard to forget their audience and focus on his husband's kisses, the feel of his body against Wei Ying's.
Lan Wangji is extremely beautiful. It's not hard to feel aroused from looking at his flawless body, from being pressed close to his warm, smooth skin. Wei Ying is very fortunate in this regard. His duty would be the same if his husband were old or ugly. He's glad there's some part of this that's real.
His husband pulls away from the kiss and gently pushes Wei Ying back against the bedding, following him down and covering Wei Ying's body with his own, larger form.
Wei Ying open his legs, letting Lan Wangji settle between them. His cock rests against Wei Ying's hip—not yet time for the main event. Wei Ying likes this, being covered by his husband—not least because it means the observers can't see very much of him.
As Lan Wangji kisses him some more, and runs his hands aimlessly over Wei Ying's skin, Wei Ying feels the low simmering of arousal. Not the desperation that he is supposed to feel, but a warm, shivery pleasure all the same. And all the better that it gathers in his pussy, cunt throbbing gently, slick enough now that Wei Ying hopes it will mitigate the worst of the pain.
When his husband starts to rut restlessly against his hip, cock sliding along his skin, Wei Ying knows it's almost time. And indeed, Lan Wangji soon sits up, leaving Wei Ying's front cold and exposed again. He pulls Wei Ying up with him and taps his hip to indicate where he wants Wei Ying to go.
Unfortunately, he wants Wei Ying to kneel up on the bed, directly facing their audience. It's mostly dark, but looking straight at them, Wei Ying can see eyes gleaming in the low light as they watch him attentively. He shudders, and not in arousal this time.
Lan Wangji kneels behind him, pulling Wei Ying's back against his broad chest and holding him fast.
He nudges Wei Ying's knees apart until his legs are spread around Lan Wangji's thighs. He can feel his husband's cock against his ass as he gets into position.
Then the head of his cock is positioned at the entrance to Wei Ying's cunt. He leans in and whispers hotly into Wei Ying's ear. "Ready?"
Wei Ying doesn't have to fake his nerves for this part. He takes a big breath and nods shakily, squeezing his eyes shut.
Lan Wangji begins to try to enter him, but Wei Ying's virgin cunt provides the expected resistance. He's trying to be gentle, Wei Ying realizes with a sudden rush of bemused fondness. But taking an omega's virginity isn't supposed to be gentle. Can't be. They're expected to bleed.
After nudging at his entrance softly a couple of times, Lan Wangji grips Wei Ying's hips more firmly. Then he thrusts.
Wei Ying's eyes fly open as he's breached, a pained cry torn from his throat without his permission. Fortunately, that is the desired result for this part of the show.
The deed done, Lan Wangji stills, but Wei Ying's cunt is still stretched painfully around his girth, the delicate skin smarting and stinging. His thighs are trembling with the effort of staying still, of not trying to rid himself of the painful intrusion.
"Wife?" Lan Wangji questions, and Wei Ying can hear the faint tremor of strain in his voice. Wei Ying isn't anywhere near ready to take more, but his training had been clear on this point. He must not deny his husband access to his body at any time, nor refuse any act his husband wishes to perform. If his husband is ready to move, then Wei Ying must be ready as well.
"Yes, husband," he says, modulating his tone to something nervous but somewhat excited as well. "You can—" he breaks off delicately. After everything he heard during his training, it would be nothing for him to say, "You can fuck my little cunt with your thick cock." But such things are crude. As a virginal omega, he's not supposed to know such vulgar language. Or even if he's heard it, he should never have the face to actually repeat it.
In any case, it's not as if his meaning is unclear. There's only one thing of consequence that Lan Wangji "can" do in this moment. He takes the cue and starts to slide his cock further into Wei Ying's cunt. It hurts. It hurts so much. As he's split open by his husband's seemingly endless cock, he can't stop a couple tears from spilling down his cheeks, and he has to bite back hard on a sob so that it becomes a little whimper. Acceptable. Not ideal, but it is acceptable for virgins to cry a little—artfully, so it stokes the fire of their husband's arousal. Not the kind of crying that could make an alpha lose their erection. That would be disastrous. But Wei Ying thinks he's skating the line well enough.
Sure enough, Lan Wangji croons reassurance in his ear, wiping the tears from his cheeks with his large, calloused thumb. Wei Ying tilts his head back, baring his throat to his husband in a show of submission. Lan Wangji bites and kisses at the exposed skin, and Wei Ying moans.
He's surprised to find that the attention to his neck is actually arousing enough that he can feel his cunt softening, growing more pliant. At last, the pain of stretching around that massive cock lessens to something bearable. It's still painful, the newly torn skin of his entrance raw and tender. But the intensity recedes. He has enough control of his body to proceed with the next steps in his performance.
Wei Ying lets out a low moan, making it sound like he just can't hold it back. Lets it slide from pain into pleasure. He shifts his hips a bit—carefully, not wanting to push his luck.
"Oh, husband," he says, his voice breaking over the word, spoken low, like a secret, but still audible to the room. "You're so—oh!"
Lan Wangji acts on the shift in mood, pulling back just slightly before pushing back in. It hurts, but not more than before. He hums in encouragement, and his husband begins to move slowly in and out of his cunt, gripping Wei Ying's hips to control the movement.
Wei Ying allows his moans to grow louder, then bites his lip as though trying to hold them back, as Lan Wangji gradually picks up speed in his thrusting. He exerts a good amount of core strength to writhe in his husband's grasp, showing every indication that he is so overwhelmed by lust for his husband's cock that he is forgetting himself.
Eventually, Lan Wangji topples him forward onto his front, pressing him flat into the sumptuous silk and fucking back into his cunt, covering Wei Ying's body like a blanket.
Wei Ying buries his face in the blanket, relief washing over him. The rest will be easy. He hides his face in the silk and modulates his moans as Lan Wangji continues to fuck him. Eventually he cants his hips back, begging wordlessly.
LWJ's thrusts build to a powerful speed, railing Wei Ying's cunt. This is still pretty uncomfortable, but it's not unarousing to be manhandled and claimed like this, if he's honest.
Wei Ying opens his mouth and lets the "ah, ah, ah," sounds fall from his lips, rising in pitch and volume. It's easier than holding them back anyway.
When his husband comes, filling Wei Ying's cunt with his seed for the first time, Wei Ying gives a broken high-pitched cry, going tense and still for long seconds before collapsing, boneless to the bed.
Their audience files out after that, leaving the bride and groom alone in their bedchamber, at last. Wei Ying lets out the smallest sigh of relief. He thinks he did well. He thinks he was convincing.
He allows his new husband to lift him and move to tuck them both under the covers. He kisses Wei Ying deeply. "Did my wife enjoy that?" Lan Wangji asks, smugly.
Wei Ying gives a sleepy, coy smile. "Mmm, husband felt so good inside me. I didn't—I didn't know it would be like that."
When Lan Wangji puts Wei Ying on his back and pushes his still-trembling thighs apart, teasing Wei Ying's sore cunt with his cock, already hard again, Wei Ying is forced to admit he may have sold his act a little too well. He sighs internally and arches up to meet the thrust of Lan Wangji's cock inside him again, moaning like a whore and wishing his husband would let him sleep.
Now
The thing of it is, Wei Ying is actually incredibly horny for his husband. He's so beautiful, and his cock is so big. Now that he's gotten used to it, he quite likes the way it stretches him open. If only his husband knew that Wei Ying can't really come just from his cock in Wei Ying's pussy. If only he'd touch his clit while he's fucking him. Or even—in Wei Ying's most forbidden fantasies—put his mouth on Wei Ying.
(One time during his lessons, Madam Yu had made Zhinzhu and Yinzhu eat Wei Ying out until he cried, pulling orgasm after orgasm from him until he was begging them to stop. It was humiliating to be so completely out of control under her clinically assessing gaze, but even now he gets wet just thinking of that memory.)
But Madam Yu had told him in no uncertain terms that he is never to suggest that his husband does not fully please and satisfy him. They only care about their cocks, she'd said. They don't want to learn how to please you, they just want you to be overcome with ecstasy when they put their cock inside you.
And so Wei Ying refrains from offering constructive criticism and fakes his orgasm every time his husband fucks him. He's quite good at it, he thinks. That had been part of the purpose of his training. He had to learn what real orgasms looked and sounded like. He had to experience them for himself. Of course, Wei Ying's verifiable chastity was assiduously guarded; he was never penetrated with anything thicker than two fingers.
Well, not in his cunt anyway. They had spent several unpleasant sessions teaching him to stretch and prepare his ass, and then fucked him with a medium-large dildo until he could take it without wincing, until he could moan like it felt good (although it never did). Thankfully, his husband has not yet asked this particular act of him. He is much larger than that dildo. (Wei Ying isn't sure he's aware it's a possibility, and he won't be the one to enlighten his husband if so.)
Yes, in all ways but one, Wei Ying was trained like a whore. He supposes that's what he is, in a way. He's trading on his desirability to secure not only his livelihood but the peace and prosperity of two kingdoms. And what is a prostitute but one who trades sex for the things they want and need?
The stakes are very high. If Lan Wangji is at any point dissatisfied with his wife, he can void their marriage contract and send Wei Ying packing back to Yunmeng. And if things were that bad, he'd probably declare war as well. So, if Wei Ying doesn't fake his orgasms well enough he might cause a war. No pressure.
This is why things were not left to chance. Why he'd endured months of lectures and hands on demonstrations and practice until he could perform perfectly in the bedroom, giving his husband exactly what he wanted and demanding nothing that wasn't readily given.
The first week or so had been the worst, when Wei Ying had been, in truth, an ignorant little virgin omega who had never heard such crude things in his life. Once he became accustomed to it, it wasn't so bad. And Madam Yu, for all her sharp sarcasm, had actually never been nicer to him. She seemed to feel a kinship with him, now that he was being sent off to the same fate she herself had been consigned to as a young omega. He's sure it didn't hurt that this meant he would be leaving the Lotus Palace for good, no longer drawing her husband's attention away from his son and heir.
Anyway, things could be worse. Yunmeng is safe and whole, and Wei Ying wants for nothing in the Cloud Court. He has wardrobes full of lovely, shockingly expensive clothes. He always has plenty to eat (and Lan Wangji had even made sure the kitchens were stocked with Yunmeng spices and chili oil. So that his wife would feel at home, he'd said, with a bashful sincerity so unlike his usual demeanor). He has his own suite of rooms, including a well appointed study. He sits in on his husband's war councils, and his opinions are listened to and valued.
So his sex life is unsatisfying. It's not like he's unique in that. And Wei Ying is well versed in getting himself off. He just has to be careful about it. But really, balanced against everything else, it's such a small thing.
Wei Ying's pussy disagrees, but that's just too bad for both of them.
***
Lan Wangji is developing an unfortunate taste for fucking Wei Ying with an audience. He had thought his wedding night would be the last time he might be critiqued by anyone other than his husband, but lately he's had to calibrate his performance for Lan Wangji's majordomo (twice now), a random stablehand (when Lan Wangji had gotten handsy after a spirited ride and pushed Wei Ying's robes aside to take him from behind right there beside the stalls), and several kitchen staff (when Lan Wangji had gotten so aroused over Wei Ying arguing vociferously with him about a point of policy during a—thankfully—private dinner that he'd laid Wei Ying out across the table before dessert had been brought).
And on all these occasions, while Wei Ying has been ready to shrivel up and die from the embarrassment, he's had to allow it. Had to appear playful when he begged his husband to stop, like he didn't really mean it. Had to giggle like he enjoys being "naughty" like this. Had to let his protests give way to moans as his husband fucked him hard and fast, burning with desire so hot he couldn't wait until they were in private.
Wherever and whenever and however Wei Ying's husband wanted his body, Wei Ying must not only allow it but also appear to enjoy it, to be just as desperate and aroused.
That wasn't so bad when Wei Ying was merely sexually frustrated, but not asked to do anything he truly found unpleasant. But this new fascination his husband has developed with being observed is testing Wei Ying's resolve mightily.
***
Escalation is inevitable. Lan Wangji tries to pull Wei Ying into his lap during a council meeting, but Wei Ying had been able to evade him without seeming to be refusing by pretending to be so incensed by a suggestion from one of the other council members that he had to stand up and pace to fully express how idiotic the idea was. (It was a truly stupid idea, but Wei Ying feels a little bad for how he'd verbally eviscerated the man. He would have been a bit more diplomatic about his disagreement if he hadn't been panicking.)
Wei Ying hadn't been able to fully escape his fate, though. After the meeting finished, Lan Wangji shoved him into the nearest alcove in the hall outside and lifted up against the wall with his ridiculously strong arms. He'd shoved his cock into Wei Ying's cunt while Wei Ying was still scrambling for purchase, desperately wrapping his legs around his husband's waist and clinging to his shoulders to keep from falling.
The council members pass by the alcove as they exit the chamber. Wei Ying quickly presses his face into his husband's shoulder so he doesn't have to see which of them look disgusted, aroused, or both. He'd never be able to face them again if he knew.
Wei Ying's whole body is flashing hot and cold with shame and mortification, and he can't quite stop a few tears from leaking out from under his tightly closed eyelids. He tries to make his embarrassed cries into pleased moans. At least in this position he can't move against his husband without falling, so he's spared from that aspect of the performance. All he has to do is cling to his husband's body and endure while Lan Wangji ruts up into his cunt in hard, fast thrusts.
Fortunately, a side effect of being wildly sexually frustrated, is that he's horny and wet basically all the time. So at least it doesn't hurt. Not physically. He can only imagine how painful it would be to take his husband like this if he wasn't wet.
Wei Ying is so distracted by trying to shut out his embarrassment that he almost misses his cue when his husband goes still, buried deep inside him, and comes with a desperate groan. He manages to squeeze his thighs even tighter around his husband's waist and give a low, shuddering moan, clenching his inner muscles around his husband's cock several times before going limp in his arms, held up mostly by the force of Lan Wangji's hips pinning him to the wall.
Wei Ying is worried his performance was less than convincing, with how thoroughly he'd been thrown off his game. But it seems Lan Wangji is too pleasure-drunk to notice. Eyes, hazed with lust, he drags Wei Ying back to his room, strips them both with brutal efficiency, and presses Wei Ying into the mattress. He's already hard again, and he fucks back into Wei Ying's body without delay.
It's easier for Wei Ying to do his duty how that they're alone. This is familiar territory, although it's unusual for his husband to be so desperate for it. It takes two more rounds before Lan Wangji rolls off of Wei Ying, panting and spent.
To Wei Ying's relief, he falls asleep almost immediately. When Lan Wangji's breathing evens out, Wei Ying rolls to his side, putting his back to his husband. He finally lets the tears fall, face pressed into the pillow to muffle any sounds he lets out. With impeccable discipline, he doesn't allow his shoulders to shake, even though his chest aches with the need to sob freely.
He feels scraped raw inside. His husband had been so forceful, and he's so big. The worst part is, Wei Ying thinks he might like this aching, used feeling, if it came from something he actually wanted to do. And if his husband knew how to give him pleasure too. He thinks he might like it.
As it stands, Wei Ying doesn't know how long he can keep this up. He wracks his brain, trying to think of some way to dissuade his husband from fucking in front of others without actually refusing or complaining in any way. He comes up empty.
***
It all falls apart when Jiang Yanli comes on a diplomatic visit with her husband, the crown prince of Lanling. The four of them are sharing an intimate dinner after a day of formal activities when Lan Wangji's hands start to wander.
Wei Ying slaps his hands away in what he hopes is a teasing manner, hoping that Lan Wangji won't push it further. Not in front of guests. Not in front of Wei Ying's sister. The servants and officials had been bad enough, but this he really can't do. He feels cold and ashamed just thinking about it.
After maybe half an hour of teasing, Lan Wangji slips his cock out of his pants. Only Wei Ying can see this, fortunately, not their guests at the other end of the table. He tries to draw Wei Ying into his lap, tries to push up Wei Ying's robes to make Wei Ying sit on his cock in a way that will be obvious to everyone present, even if his clothes are technically hiding what's going on.
Before he can think or control his reaction, Wei Ying shoves at Lan Wangji's chest hard and stumbled a few steps away from the table. He's breathing hard, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "I said no," he says, cold and furious. And then he turns and abruptly flees from the dining room, not stopping until he's back in his own rooms.
His stomach sinks. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What has he done? The one thing that he had been told he absolutely could not do. Cold dread settles in him. Lan Wangji will be so angry now. He'll send Wei Ying back to Yunmeng. And Madam Yu will probably turn him out to fend for himself on the streets after what he's done. And there will probably be a war, and it will be all his fault.
But he couldn't. He just couldn't let his husband fuck him right in front of his sister. He couldn't play the whore and pretend to be trying to hide his enjoyment while she looked on in—confusion? Disgust? Both?
He realizes his breath is coming in wet wheezes and tries to calm down, but it doesn't help much. And then.
"Wei Ying?"
Wei Ying whirls around and prostrates himself immediately. "This lowly one begs forgiveness for his disobedience, dianxia. Please be merciful and don't send this unworthy one away."
"Send you away? Wei Ying, what?" He approaches and tries to lift Wei Ying from his bow, but Wei Ying stays down, head pressed to the floor.
"Please," he continues, panicked tears clogging his throat now. "This one will—will try to be better, more pleasing in the future. This one will not—" He gulps and tries to mean it. "—be so ungrateful as to deny his husband's attentions again. Please."
When his husband tries to raise him up again, he allows himself to be lifted from his prostrate position. Lan Wangji is frowning. When he reaches forward to try to brush the tears from Wei Ying's cheeks, Wei Ying shies away. The breath freezes in his throat. What had he just said? And he can't even keep his promises for half a minute. He's doomed. Everything is ruined.
He considers groveling again, but why should his husband believe him? So he just sits on his knees and cries, big helpless sobs, while Lan Wangji crouches in front of him, half an arms length away but not reaching for him again.
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji tries again after another minute with the silence broken only by Wei Ying's sobs. "I'm sorry."
Wei Ying's breath stutters in his throat. He shakes his head in bewilderment. "No, no. Nothing to be sorry for. This one is wrong and disobedient. This one has displeased."
"Clearly there is," Lan Wangji insists. "I embarrassed you in front of your sister. I wasn't thinking."
Wei Ying wraps his arms around himself, trying desperately to calm down. "No matter," he says dully. "This one serves at dianxia's pleasure."
"Wei Ying, oaths of fealty are for matters of state, not for the bedroom. Or, uh, elsewhere activities."
This settles something cold and hopeless in Wei Ying. He looks up and meets his husband's eyes at last. "A dozen elders watched while you took my virginity. Who told you our sex life wasn't a matter of state?"
"But that's just the consummation," he says helplessly, hopelessly out of his depth. "And—you seemed to like it?"
Wei Ying could still salvage this. Lan Wangji isn't angry, amazingly. He could claim it was just fucking in front of his sister that was the problem and they could go back to how things were. It would be fine. But he's so tired. He didn't realize how much the constant acting was draining him. But now he has nothing left to pick up the performance again. Even if he dooms two kingdoms.
He huffs a humorless laugh. "I was given thorough instruction so that it would appear so."
"Wei Ying, what does that mean?" His husband is sounding colder now. This is it. He's ruined it all.
Well. In that case, he might as well lay it all out. In a dull monotone, he explains his training, all that he had been taught before he came to Gusu so that he might please his new husband.
Lan Wangji listens, looking more shocked and lost the more he hears. When Wei Ying finally finishes, he asks, "Was any of it real?"
Wei Ying smiles sadly. "Oh, Lan Zhan, you are so beautiful. I want you all the time. Well. In private anyway. But um." He coughs awkwardly. "I assume no one ever taught you how to pleasure an omega, the way that I learned for you?"
Lan Wangji shakes his head.
"The thing is, as good as it feels when you fuck me, I can't actually come just from that."
Lan Wangji blinks. "What else is there?"
Wei Ying bites back a hysterical giggle. "Oh, they really didn't teach you anything, did they?"
He had already known this, based on how his husband's activities in the bedroom were limited to kissing and putting his cock in Wei Ying's cunt. But still.
Lan Wangji's ears are red. "Will you—will you teach me then, wife?"
Wei Ying's eyes widen. "You mean, you're not going to divorce me?"
Lan Wangji blinks. "No? Is that what you thought?"
"Well, yeah."
Lan Wangji shakes his head as if to clear it. "Wei Ying. That's insane. Whatever they told you, it doesn't actually work like that. I can't just send you packing for something like that. And even if I could, I wouldn't."
Wei Ying stares at his husband in shocked relief. "And you still want to—even after I told you all of—that?"
Lan Wangji sighs, looking serious again. "It sounds like someone went to a lot of trouble to make you afraid of 'displeasing' me. I can't really blame you, if that's what you thought would happen."
“Oh,” Wei Ying says, voice small. He doesn’t deserve his husband’s kindness when he’s done nothing but lie since their wedding day. But he sees a glimmer of the kind of marriage he might have hoped for, before all this. One built on trust, and maybe, if he’s very lucky, love. And he can’t help but reach for it. “So you really—?”
"Yes, I still want to,” Lan Wangji with such conviction that Wei Ying can’t help but believe him. “Will you show me what really makes you feel good?"
"Okay," Wei Ying says helplessly, and begins to disrobe. He leads his husband over to the bed. He lays down on it and spreads his legs. He draws Lan Wangji's fingers towards him, guiding him to touch his cunt where he's already getting wet. "You're already familiar with that one," he says teasingly. Then he drags his husband's fingers up until they rest over his clit. "Now this is my clit. I need to be touched here to come. Sometimes only a little, if I'm really worked up. But I can't do without it entirely."
Lan Wangji presses his fingers down experimentally, and Wei Ying's eyelashes flutter. "Mm," he affirms. "Yes, like that."
Lan Wangji takes his hand away. "Wei Ying, will you show me how you touch yourself? I want to know how to do it right."
Wei Ying can feel himself blushing all the way to the roots of his hair. Somehow, after everything he'd done with Madam Yu looking on and critiquing, after everything he's done with Lan Wangji already, the prospect of showing his husband his real pleasure is still embarrassing. With difficulty, he nods. "Okay, okay, yeah. I can—" He takes a steadying breath and moves his own hand between his legs, maintaining eye contact with his husband as he does. Until Lan Wangji's eyes drop to study the subject at hand anyway.
He dips his fingers into his cunt and spreads his slick up over his folds, so his fingers slide easily around his clit. He sighs as he begins to rub himself slowly, just getting warmed up. It's been so long since he's been able to do this any way other than rushed and silent, terrified of getting caught. It's nice to be able to go at his own pace.
It's electric, feeling his husband's eyes on him while he does this. Lan Wangji's golden eyes are hot as they watch him. It sends a jolt of pleasure through his pussy, and he arches up against his hand. It’s not long before he feels himself getting close, rubbing himself faster and writhing against the sheets.
He pauses before the finish, breathing quickened. He reaches out towards his husband. “Lan Zhan,” he says. “Put your fingers inside before I—I want you to feel something, okay?”
Lan Zhan doesn’t need to be told twice, eager to touch his wife in his real pleasure at last. He slides two fingers inside Wei Ying’s dripping cunt, unable to keep from pushing in and out a bit, rubbing against his inner walls.
Wei Ying’s eyelids flutter and he moans. “Oh, gods, yes. Okay, okay. Just—just stay there, and—” He returns his hand to his clit and drives himself towards the finish in earnest. In moments, he’s coming hard, hips bucking up against his own hand and the friction provided by Lan Zhan’s fingers inside him.
Lan Zhan, for his part, stares in awed surprise. His wife’s cunt is clenching rhythmically around his fingers as he shudders and shakes through his orgasm. And Lan Zhan’s fingers are suddenly much wetter than they were a moment ago.
Once the spasms are past, Wei Ying keeps rubbing himself for a time, softer and slower. And he doesn’t tell Lan Zhan to remove his fingers yet. So Lan Zhan keeps them where they are.
Finally, he stills and opens his eyes, smiling tiredly up at Lan Wangji. He pushes gently against Lan Zhan’s wrist and Lan Zhan immediately withdraws his fingers, eyes drawn to the shiny wetness that coats them.
“Did you feel it?” Wei Ying asks.
Lan Zhan nods, eyes wide. “That was—you’ve never—before—”
Of course, this is exactly what Wei Ying had just told him, but feeling his wife’s true pleasure and comparing the differences makes it more concrete. More real. His face falls. “Wei Ying, I’m sorry,” he says again.
Wei Ying smiles sadly and shakes his head. “It’s not your fault,” he says.
“I should have known,” Lan Zhan insists stubbornly.
Wei Ying laughs lightly at this, tugging Lan Zhan up to curl against his side and leaning in to kiss the stubborn pout off his lips.
When they part on a sigh, “How would you have known? You’ve never done this with anyone else, am I right?”
Strangely embarrassed, Lan Zhan feels his ears heat. “No,” he admits.
“Exactly. And I was told that I had to pretend. They said that you wouldn’t be interested in my true pleasure, only the appearance of it. And I did as I was told, because I didn’t know any better either.”
Lan Zhan scowls. “Of course I care about your pleasure. What kind of alpha wouldn’t—”
Wei Ying shrugs. “A lot of alphas, I’m guessing. I don’t think they made all this up just to scare me or anything. It had to come from somewhere. And Madam Yu seemed pretty sure about it.”
Wei Ying thinks about this for a moment and feels a bit sad for her. Their relationship had not been an easy one, but he thinks he can understand her bitterness, if she’d had to live for decades the way he’s spent the past several months.
Lan Zhan huffs and shakes his head, drawing Wei Ying back to the present. “Well, I don’t care about what other alphas may do. Don’t put on a pretty show for me anymore, all right? In fact,” he pauses, brow furrowing. “In fact, we don’t have to lie together at all if you don’t want it. I don’t wish to—impose on you further, if that is your desire.”
Wei Ying shakes his head fervently. “No, that’s not—I already told you how much I want you. Don’t pull away now that we finally understand each other. Actually, there’s a lot more I want to show you, okay?”
He pushes Lan Zhan over onto his back and opens up his trousers, pulling his—very hard—cock out.
“There’s so many things we haven’t done,” he says, eyes sparkling.
And with that, he ducks his head and takes Lan Wangji’s cock into his mouth. Lan Wangji makes an inhuman noise, shocked and desperately aroused. He’d never even imagined that people could do this.
Despite everything that surrounded it, in this moment, Wei Ying is grateful for his training. His husband is, as previously stated, very large. He’s glad that he knows how to handle himself to make it good for his alpha.
Lan Wangji shakes and shudders above him, hands clenching the sheets, white knuckled, as though he wants to be holding something else.
Wei Ying reaches out and pulls one of Lan Wangji’s hands towards him. He lifts his head just far enough to say, “You can touch. You can—you can pull my hair if you want to.”
Lan Wangji groans and buries his hands in Wei Ying’s hair, not needing to be told twice. Wei Ying moans around his cock when Lan Wangji’s fingers clench against his scalp, pulling deliciously.
Wei Ying takes him deep, swallowing around his husband’s cock. It’s not long before Lan Wangji is close to coming. He tries to pull Wei Ying’s head up, but Wei Ying refuses to go, and soon he’s rewarded by the salty bitter flood of his husband’s come.
He lifts his head, a self-satisfied smile on his lips, spit-slick and cherry red.
Lan Wangji pants as he comes down, staring at his wife in awe. “I didn’t know—I didn’t know people did that,” he says.
Wei Ying giggles lightly. “Of course they do,” he says. “It feels good, right?”
Lan Wangji nods emphatically. As his mind turns over the experience, another thought occurs to him. His mouth waters as he makes the next logical step, spent cock twitching in a futile effort to get hard again immediately as he begins to imagine it. Still, he’s not sure if that’s all right. If that’s something people do. But it seems that Wei Ying knows these things.
“Do people—that is, do you—would you enjoy it if I did the same to you?”
Wei Ying’s eyes go wide. He hadn’t even dared to imagine that Lan Wangji might be interested in that. He nods rapidly. “Yes, they do. Yes, I would,” he confirms. “But. Only if you want it too, Lan Zhan.”
The hungry look in Lan Zhan’s eyes allays his doubts. “I do,” he says, and promptly sets himself to learning how best to pleasure his husband with lips and tongue. And when he feels that exquisite spasming against his tongue as Wei Ying shakes apart above him, he thinks he’s never tasted anything sweeter.
It’s so good he can’t quite bring himself to pull away, continuing to lick and suck at his wife’s pussy, since Wei Ying’s hands are still clenched in his hair, not yet pushing him back.
This is how Lan Wangji learns about multiple orgasms. “Did you just—?” he asks, stunned, when Wei Ying cries out and arches up against his mouth again.
Wei Ying nods, laughing a little, giddy with endorphins.
“How many times can you do that?” Lan Zhan asks wonderingly.
Wei Ying thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs. “I don’t know,” he answers. “At least a few times.”
He cries out as his husband attacks his pussy with renewed fervor. He drives Wei Ying through two more orgasms before Wei Ying tugs at his hair insistently, feeling wild with his need.
“Please, Lan Zhan, please fuck me. Need your cock in me so bad.”
Lan Wangji looks a little dubious. “Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes!” he says emphatically. “In fact—”
Wei Ying pushes his husband over onto his back. Lan Wangji, surprised, goes easily. Wei Ying crawls up his body until he’s straddling his hips. Then he takes his husband’s cock in hand and holds it steady as he slides down onto it.
Lan Wangji moans at the feeling of being enveloped once more in his wife’s velvety cunt. Wei Ying smiles down at him, something mischievous in his eyes. He puts his hands on Lan Wangji’s chest for balance and begins to ride him. He slides up and down his husband’s cock, hips moving in a sinuous roll. Lan Wangji groans and pants beneath him. It makes Wei Ying feel powerful.
Wei Ying’s legs and core are strong, but eventually, he begins to tire. His thighs tremble with the effort of raising himself up and down as he’s split open by his husband’s large cock. His head droops between his shoulders, hair falling around his face in a curtain. There’s a sheen of sweat on his skin, and Lan Wangji watches, mesmerized, as a drop rolls down his throat to his chest.
Unable to help himself, Lan Wangji reaches up and grasps Wei Ying’s hips in a bruising grip. He begins to thrust up into Wei Ying’s cunt, no longer making his wife do all the work.
Wei Ying cries out. “Yes, husband! Oh, god, please, yes, fuck my tight cunt, ah!”
And then his words are lost in incoherent moans. He shoves his hand between his legs, working his clit furiously as Lan Wangji’s thrusts begin to lose their rhythm. He starts to come, and the sensation of his pussy clenching around Lan Zhan’s cock makes Lan Zhan come as well, flooding his cunt with his hot seed.
Wei Ying collapses onto Lan Zhan’s chest, pussy still twitching with the aftershocks. They pant and come down together. Eventually, sweat drying on his skin, Wei Ying shivers. Lan Zhan finally lets his soft cock slide out of his wife’s cunt, watching with dark eyes as his come dribbles slowly out after.
Looking at the state of the bed, Lan Zhan call for fresh linens. He feels a twinge of regret, but grabs a robe for Wei Ying, and for himself, before the servants arrive to change the sheets. The grateful, adoring look on his wife’s face chases away that momentary regret easily.
After, they collapse onto the fresh sheets, and Lan Zhan draws the covers up over them. Wei Ying curls into his chest and they cuddle together like that, kissing and touching. Not with intent this time, too exhausted, but just to touch.
Half asleep, voice soft and syrupy, Wei Ying says, “I’m so lucky, what a good husband I have.”
Lan Wangji thinks he doesn’t deserve this praise after what he’s done, even if unknowingly. But he wants to. And he’s willing to work to earn it. Instead of saying any of that, he replies, “And what a good wife I have. Wei Ying is good.”
Wei Ying whines, cheeks going pink. “Lan Zhan! How can you say such things? My poor heart can’t take it!”
Lan Wangji kisses his forehead. “Wei Ying started it,” he counters.
“Don’t use logic at me,” Wei Ying grumbles, but his eyes are laughing.
Lan Wangji smiles down at him, and then settles in to sleep, his wife warm and willing at his side.
Wei Ying lies awake for some time after that, listening to his husband’s deep, even breaths beneath where his head rests on Lan Wangji’s broad chest.
He’s so overwhelmed and happy and profoundly relieved that he wants to squeal with it. Wants to laugh until his sides hurt. But that would wake his husband, so he holds it all like a glowing coal inside his chest, warming him from the inside out.
Before tonight, that space had felt like an empty, ever-growing expanse, hopeless and cold with the certainty of a life of dissatisfaction and humiliation. To suddenly see a completely different future stretching out before him is almost more joy than he can bear.
Wei Ying curls closer to his sleeping husband, letting Lan Zhan’s solid, steady presence lull him to sleep. He knows this isn’t the end of it. They will have to talk more, to sort out all the misinformation and misunderstandings that had marked their early marriage. But that’s for another day, and he has faith in them.