The Vicious Supporting Villainess’s Chronicle of Serving Pleasure (Historical 1v1, H) - Chapter 11

Outside, the rain thickened; bean-sized drops smashed against the glazed tiles, shattering like jade and vanishing in an instant into the curtain of downpour.

When he saw clearly who slept on the bed, the anger in Huan Jin’s eyes flashed and was gone.

Affairs of state had been heavy lately—he had, in fact, neglected her.

After undressing himself, he lifted his long fingers and casually lowered the bright-yellow gauze canopy from the golden hook.

The light inside the curtained bed dimmed, yet Huan Jin did not lie down. He sat at Shen Chiying’s side, eyes sinking as he stared at her for a long time.

His fingertip stroked her hair—black as silk and spilling loose—almost without touching, an action carrying a trace of tenderness even he did not notice.

Strange to say, Huan Jin knew well he was cold and spare of feeling, and toward his empress, Shen Chiying, he could hardly claim any sentiment.

And yet whenever he was alone with her, that string that had been drawn tight in his heart for years would inexplicably slacken a notch.

Perhaps it was because she was foolish in just the right way—everything she thought and wanted lay in his palm. Or perhaps because she had no one to rely on and no choice but to cling to him.

In such a mode of being together, much suspicion and guarding fell away.

In a blur, the sleeping girl unconsciously nestled in, soft arms winding around his waist.

Huan Jin’s breath stalled; every muscle went taut at once.

Desire, long unslaked, rose again. He shut his eyes and forced it down; after a moment he gently unwound her arm and lay on the outside.

Shen Chiying was startled awake by the movement, her voice a touch husky. “Is that Your Majesty?”

“Mm.” Huan Jin’s Adam’s apple rolled.

It was already deep into the hour of the ox; drowsiness washed over Shen Chiying like a tide, but she did not forget why she had come tonight.

If she still didn’t receive the emperor’s rain and dew tonight, she would truly miss the timing for that child in the book!

She buried her face against the man’s chest and nuzzled lightly, aggrieved. “Your Majesty hasn’t come to Kunning Palace these past few days. I missed you so much!”

“I keep vigil by the lamps every night, the clepsydra dripping until dawn…” Her mouth spoke pitiful words, but her fine jade fingers had already grown restless, moving to untie the sash at his waist.

A flicker of amusement crossed Huan Jin’s eyes.

Inside and out, Kunning Palace was filled with his eyes and ears—what time Shen Chiying woke and slept each day, how many bites she ate, what words she spoke: nothing went unreported.

With such contrived complaints, how could he not know what was true and what false?

“I hadn’t known the empress was so deeply devoted to me,” Huan Jin said, the corner of his mouth lifting as he deliberately teased. “In that case, you must also know of the recent rebellion among the Tartar tribes in the northwest.”

“Supplies at the front are short. Why not share my burdens and donate your entire private treasury first?”

Shen Chiying froze. She had only come to conceive a dragon seed—how had it come to this?

She swallowed quietly and tried to change the subject. “Your Majesty works day and night; you must be exhausted. Let me massage your shoulders, all right?”

“Is the empress reluctant?” Huan Jin suddenly leaned in, his tall body pressing over hers, his fingertips brushing the loose strands at her temple.

“You said just now you longed for me every night—yet you won’t spare me even this small thing?”

Panic collected under Shen Chiying’s ribs. It was rare for Huan Jin to speak of outer-court matters with her—how was it that the one time he did, it was to ask her for money?

She had been mistress of the Central Palace for nearly a year and had indeed piled up a fair store of gold and jewels in her private coffers—but they were her only savings.

After a moment’s thought, she gritted her teeth and asked miserably, “Your Majesty, could I donate half? If I give it all, I won’t even have money to tip the servants…”

Huan Jin snorted. The large hand pinching her waist slid down. “Look at you, with no ambition at all. Fine—keep your little stash. I’ll draw funds from the inner treasury and donate in your name.”

Only then did he realize there was nothing under her—she wasn’t even wearing underpants—and his breath roughened at once.

“Why in my name…” Shen Chiying didn’t finish. The man had already bent and sealed her rosy lips.

The kiss came fast and fierce, domineering and impossible to refuse, swallowing all her unfinished words.

Shen Chiying’s apricot eyes flew wide; for a moment she forgot to breathe.

Then she parted her teeth and met his storming kiss, her legs unconsciously winding around his lean waist.

Huan Jin gathered her up and sat, one hand clamping the back of her head, deepening the kiss again and again.

His big tongue bullied through her sandalwood mouth, churning; sticky, indecent sounds clicked and smacked.

With their breathing growing quick and ragged, the sound alone could set cheeks ablaze and hearts racing.

She didn’t know how long it had been before dizziness swam through Shen Chiying’s head; her lips and tongue tingled under the suction, and the man’s callused palm had cupped her br3asts and was kneading them hard.

“Slut—climbing onto my bed bare-assed—are you that hungry for c0ck?” Huan Jin’s gaze burned into her.

She still had her undergarment on her upper body, but it was already a wreck from his rough handling.

Shen Chiying answered shyly, “I didn’t climb up bare-assed. When I came, my underpants were just fine…”

Huan Jin only smiled without speaking, his eyes telling her to go on.

Shen Chiying pressed on, soft and coy. “Lying on Your Majesty’s bed, I don’t know why, but my underpants got all wet and sticky—it felt awful, so I took them off.”

“Oh? And why, lying on my bed, did the empress’s underpants get wet?” Huan Jin probed deliberately, to the root.

His placket had already been tugged askew by Shen Chiying; the smooth, firm muscles within were half seen, swelling with every breath.

Masculine power surged off him. Shen Chiying’s heart gave a sharp, hard flutter.

She dropped her gaze on instinct—only to see the thing beneath his belly already hard and swollen, pushing the soft-satin sleep pants high.

“Because…” Shen Chiying’s cheeks flushed deeper and deeper; she stammered, making it up as she went. “Smelling Your Majesty’s scent made me remember how Your Majesty usually… spoils me…”