Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World Chapter 440- Sabrina’s Blowjob or Face Fuck

The cat queens moved to the remaining thrones. Slowly. With the energy of people lowering themselves into chairs at gunpoint—present dignity demanding the motion be unhurried, however involuntary.

Helvora sat. Back straight. Expression announcing that she was choosing to be seated and nobody should interpret it otherwise.

Seris sat, her ice-blue eyes fixed sowhere above Tianlong’s head like the ceiling held sothing more interesting.

Vyrena sat with enough controlled force that the throne creaked, her amber eyes finally landing on Kaira—still standing, chains swaying—and narrowing slightly.

Kaira herself had stopped at the edge of the crescent. Her blind eyes moved across the room’s sounds and heat, reading it, orienting herself. She was still naked. Still chained. Her massive breasts rose and fell with each breath.

"Sit," Tianlong said.

She turned her face toward his voice. "I... with them?"

"With us," he corrected.

A beat of silence.

She walked to the nearest empty throne and sat, slowly, her expression doing sothing complicated that her sightless eyes couldn’t quite hide. Like a woman receiving sothing she’d told herself she didn’t want and discovering she’d been wrong about that.

Yuna stared at the piercings for exactly three seconds before saying, "Did you give her those?"

Kaira went rigid.

"They’re..." Yuna tilted her head. "I want them."

"’Yuna’," Sylvea said.

"I’m just saying—"

"I noticed as well," Akane said mildly, from her throne, her nine tails performing a slow sweep. "The gold suits her."

Kaira’s copper skin had gone noticeably darker. Her hands gripped the throne’s armrests.

"Shut ’up’," she said, her warrior’s voice stripped to sothing that was considerably less commanding than usual.

Yu Xiang’s lips curved. "Embarrassed, Chief?"

"’Tribe Chief’," Kaira said.

"Yes," Yu Xiang agreed pleasantly. "Of course."

Tianlong let them have a mont.

Then he looked left.

Sabrina was still against the wall. She hadn’t moved to a throne. Her arms remained crossed, her tail still cutting those slow, hard sweeps, her golden eyes moving between each woman in the crescent in what he recognized as evaluation—the kind she perford constantly, ranking things, assessing threats and hierarchies out of pure instinct.

And sothing else.

He’d seen it before on her face. That particular expression she got when she thought nobody was watching her think.

"Sabrina," he said.

Her eyes snapped to him.

"Every woman in this room," he said, keeping his voice the sa conversational register he used for everything, "has already given what you keep refusing to."

The silence that followed had a particular texture to it.

Yuna looked at her lap. Akane examined her nails. Yu Xiang studied the ceiling with intense architectural interest. Sylvea turned slightly toward the wall.

Sabrina’s face went through approximately four emotions in two seconds. Her tail snapped behind her, sharp.

"You’re a ’bastard’," she said. Low. Controlled. The kind of controlled that had effort behind it.

"Probably."

"I would ’never’—"

She stopped.

Her golden eyes had moved—involuntarily, she would have insisted—across the crescent of won. Akane, seated with the composure of soone who’d lived long enough to find everything either amusing or beneath her.

Yu Xiang with her predatory elegance, her tight dress and her violet eyes that never missed anything.

Yuna, still young-looking but radiating sothing that had gotten harder and quieter since the first ti Sabrina had t her. The cat queens, defeated and present. Kaira, naked and ’there’—a tribe chief who’d been broken and rebuilt and was now sitting in a throne in another woman’s palace like it was where she’d always been headed.

And Sabrina’s jaw tightened.

Not from anger.

From sothing she wouldn’t na out loud.

Tianlong watched her reach her conclusion. He’d been watching her reach it for months.

"I want a blowjob," he said.

Yuna made a small sound.

Sabrina’s head snapped back toward him. "What—"

"From you," he clarified. Pleasantly. "Now."

Her mouth opened. Closed. Sothing moved behind her golden eyes—fury and sothing else running alongside it, the way two rivers share a bank.

Then, in the silence of the grand hall with every wife watching, Sabrina uncrossed her arms.

Stood straight.

"’Just once’," she said. Her voice was still hard, still ’hers’, but the volu was lower than usual. "’You bastard.’"

Nobody in the crescent moved.

Sabrina walked forward.

She moved the way she always moved—straight spine, deliberate steps, nothing conceded in the posture—but sothing was different and everyone watching felt it. Like a blade being carried sideways instead of hidden. Still dangerous, just... differently oriented.

She stopped in front of his throne.

Looked down at him.

Then, without bending her spine until the last possible mont, she sank to her knees.

Her legs folded beneath her, her tiger tail curling close against her side, her hands coming to rest on her own thighs. She knelt there for a mont, her golden eyes level with his lap, her shoulders carrying all the dignity she still had and her jaw carrying the rest.

She reached for him.

Her hand moved the fabric aside—efficient, no ceremony, the way soone handles a task they’ve committed to—and his cock fell free.

’Ten inches’. Thick, veined, already firm from Maranor’s ambient energy and the particular satisfaction of watching Sabrina get to this point. The head was dark, flushed, a bead of pre-cum welling at the tip. The shaft stood rigid, carrying that heat that seed inherent to him—warm against her palm before she’d even gripped it.

She gripped it.

Both hands, neither able to et around the girth. She could feel the pulse of it. That indignant fact, just sitting there in her hands.

Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth.

Then she opened her mouth.

Her canines showed—genuine tiger fangs, points that could part flesh if she chose—and she placed them against the head of his cock.

Not biting. Not closing.

Just ’there’. The cockhead resting between teeth that could end this entire situation very differently if she wanted.

She looked up at him.

Her golden eyes said everything she wasn’t saying out loud—’you understand what I could do, you understand what I’m choosing not to do, and you will rember this’.

Behind her, not a single woman breathed.

Akane’s nine tails had gone completely still for the first ti since she’d entered the room. Yuna’s hands had pressed flat against her own knees. Yu Xiang’s violet eyes were fixed on the scene with an expression that had abandoned even the pretense of casual observation. Sylvea had both hands over her mouth. Helvora and her queens simply watched with the barely-contained fascination of won witnessing sothing unprecedented.

Kaira, sightless, tracked the silence and understood the shape of it.

Tianlong looked down at Sabrina.

At the teeth around his cock. At the eyes holding his.

"Lick it," he said.

The sa voice as always. Not asking. Not commanding with volu. Just—stating.

One second.

Two.

The very tip of her tongue—pointed, cautious—touched the head of his cock.

The contact was brief. Light. Almost nothing.

Then she made a sound in the back of her throat, and her expression shifted—sothing breaking through the surface like a stone through ice—

"What a day," Tianlong said, and his hand moved into her hair.

Not snatching. Just sliding into the tiger-striped strands at the back of her head, fingers curling, getting a grip.

Sabrina’s eyes went wide.

"’Wai—’"

The pressure began. Slow—no sudden force, just a steady, inexorable weight pushing her head forward and down—and Sabrina’s hands went to his thighs, pressing against them, her shoulders going rigid.

"’I said I wasn’t—’" The word ended with a gasp as the head pushed past her lips. "’Mmph—’"