Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World-Chapter 158- You Will Tear me Apart!

He pulled the panty fully aside and held her hips and looked at the geometry of her—the full open display of her, the spread of the vine’s positioning, the thick wet warmth of her completely visible at his eye level—and the physician’s assessment was concurrent with the Shadow Devourer’s resonance and both arrived at the same conclusion, which was: ’yes.’

He pressed against her.

The tip of him at the entrance of her.

"’—don’t—I’m telling you—don’t—’"

He pressed in.

The first inch was—warm and tight and honest about exactly what it was, the body’s response to stimulus completely unmanaged by the cultivation that should have been redirecting it, the full mortal-baseline honesty of a woman whose suppressed stage meant that every biological process was running without the subtle cultivation-layer modifications that Nascent Soul practitioners applied without thinking.

"’—AAAHN~—!!’"

She cut this one off at the ’AA’ and got approximately none of the remaining sound suppressed.

He pressed deeper.

PAAH.

"’—AHN~—’"

PAAH PAAH.

"’—AHN~—AHN~—!!’"

Her hips moved—or rather, the vine’s grip permitted the specific micro-motion of her hips that was not a struggle and was not a choice and was simply the body’s response to the input it was receiving, the small forward-roll of her pelvis that brought her against him in the specific way of something involuntary and completely legible.

He held her hips.

He drove forward.

PAAH PAAH PAAH.

"’—AAHN~—!! AHN~—AHN~—!!’"

Her breasts swung—the full, heavy pendulum of them in the inverted position, each thrust producing the counter-swing of dense mass responding to force, the slow wide arc of them catching the light, the dark nipples at the furthest point of each swing.

She was trying to say something.

"’—you—bastard—I will—AAHN~—!!—kill—mhn—AHN~—!!’"

PAAH PAAH.

"’—AHN~—AHN~—’"

"Who sent you," he said.

"’I told you—’"

PAAH PAAH PAAH.

"’—AAAHN~—!! don’t—AAHN~—!! stop—’"

"Who sent you," he said.

"’My—AAHN~—!! grandmother—AHN~—!! you already—AHN~—!! knew—’"

"What does she want," he said.

"’She—mhn—she wanted me—AHN~—!! to—to get close—AAAHN~—!!’"

PAAH PAAH PAAH PAAH.

"’—AAHN~—!! AAHN~—!! I’m—I’m—’"

"You’re going to come," he said.

"’I’m not—AAHN~—!! I’m not going to—AAAHN~—!!—’"

She did.

The first orgasm hit with the specific force of a Nascent Soul Late Stage cultivation running at mortal baseline without the suppression layer that Nascent Soul bodies applied to intensity—which meant it hit at the full, unmodified, completely honest magnitude of a young woman’s body experiencing exactly what it was experiencing with nothing in between the stimulus and the response.

"’AAAAAAHN~—!!’"

She shook.

The vines held her.

The swing of her breasts was—considerable.

He did not stop.

PAAH PAAH PAAH.

"’—AHN~—too much—AHN~—!! it’s too—AAAHN~—!!’"

"What does your grandmother want," he said.

"’She—she wants—AAHN~—!!—she wants my—my bottleneck—AHN~—!! she thinks you—AAAHN~—!!—she thinks dual cultivation—AHN~—!! would break—would break through—’"

PAAH PAAH PAAH PAAH.

"’—AAAHN~—!! AAHN~—!! she told me to—to seduce you—AAHN~—!! she said—you’d be arrogant—AHN~—!! she said just—just get close—’"

"And what did you find," he said.

"’—you’re not—AAAHN~—!!—you’re not what she—AHN~—!! said—’"

PAAH PAAH.

"’—AAAHN~—!!’"

The second one.

He felt it in the grip of her, the full clench of her body performing the absolute honest process that cultivation suppression was not currently available to moderate.

"’—AAAAAAHN~—!!’"

He held her hips and drove through it—the full, unhurried pace of someone who was not in a hurry—until she came down from the second one with the specific trembling quality of a body that has used a great deal of energy and is still receiving input.

"’—I can’t—I can’t—AHN~—!!—’"

"You can," he said.

PAAH PAAH PAAH.

"’—AAHN~—!! AAHN~—!!’"

He pulled out.

The sound of separation in the mountain air.

She hung in the vine’s grip and trembled and looked at him with the inverted dark eyes that had the expression of someone who has received several revisions to their prior assessment of the available situation and is processing them.

He looked at her.

He gripped her hip with one hand and with the other he found her jaw—tipping her head back, which in the inversion tipped it forward, bringing her mouth to the level of his cock, wet with her and with the residual warmth of everything.

He pressed against her lips.

She looked at him.

"’You—’"

"Open," he said. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

The jaw was pressed together.

He pressed against it.

She made the sound—the specific sound between a curse and something else—and then opened.

He slid in.

"’Mmhn—’"

The warmth of her mouth—the immediate, involuntary sealing of her around him, the body’s response running without the mind’s consultation because the body had been running without consultation for the last twenty minutes and had established its own operational procedures.

He moved.

"’—Mmhn—Mhn—’"

His thumb had found the back of her, the specific position above the entrance he had just vacated, the small circling pressure of someone who was not rushing and was noting that she had gone very still in a specific way.

"’—mmhn—mhn—’"

Not struggling now.

Her hips had the micro-motion—the vine’s tolerance, the small roll of her, the involuntary lean-into of a body that had stopped consulting its owner about these decisions.

He pressed his thumb against the entrance to her ass.

The circling. The specific deliberate pressure of someone who is not requesting and is not forcing and is simply—present, with specific intent, communicating the intent through contact.

She made a sound around him.

"’Mhn—mmhn—’"

He pressed slightly inward.

"’—Mhnn~—’"

The sound had something in it that was not the same category as the previous sounds. The category between not-wanting and the body’s involuntary registration of stimulus that its owner had not catalogued as desirable.

He pulled back from her mouth.

He twisted her—the vine’s cooperation, the Shadow Devourer’s resonance, the slow repositioning of her in the geometric arrangement the formation architecture permitted—until she was no longer inverted, until the vine had lowered her to the ground with the careful pace of Primordial Qi-fed growth doing exactly what it had been told.

She was—on the ruin floor. Both wrists still held, spread. Both ankles spread. The specific arrangement of someone who has been repositioned by vines with deliberate precision and is now horizontal rather than vertical.

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

The dark eyes were—the expression was the one that arrived when two things were true simultaneously and neither of them was comfortable. The fury was still present, but it had been joined by something else since the first orgasm, and the something else had been growing relative to the fury at a rate that was clearly concerning her.

She looked at what was in his hand.

She looked at where it was oriented.

"’Don’t,’" she said. Different this time. The ’don’t’ of someone who has recalibrated which things they are saying don’t about.

"You’ve told me most of it," he said. "Your grandmother. The bottleneck. The seduction brief." He looked at her. "What I don’t have yet is your stage."

"’I’m not—’"

He positioned himself.

He pressed against the entrance to her ass—not entering, not yet, the specific presence of someone who is at the threshold and is waiting for the specific thing they are waiting for.

"’I’m not telling you my stage,’" she said.

"Then we continue," he said.

He pressed forward.

One inch.

"’AHN—!’"

Two.

"’AHN~—!! STOP—’"

He felt the resistance—the specific, architectural resistance of a body encountering something it was not designed for without preparation—and the physician’s assessment registered: ’genuine. Not performance. This is the genuine resistance of someone who has not been here before and whose body is issuing an honest structural objection.’

He pressed the third inch.

"’STOP!! STOP YOU WILL TEAR ME APART!!’"