My Xianxia Harem Life-Chapter 387 Draw

"A toast to my lovely wife," Riley said warmly, raising his glass of deep red wine toward Iris.

Iris smiled, her lips curving softly as she accepted the offered glass.

The two newlyweds sat together at a small round table near their grand matrimonial bed—its crimson sheets and golden embroidery glittering faintly in the candlelight.

The entire room was filled with the fragrance of burning incense and roses, creating an intoxicating blend that made the night feel timeless and sacred.

"One of your wives, you mean," Iris teased, her tone light yet laced with something unspoken.

"I’ll never understand why men feel the need to collect women like treasures."

Riley chuckled, amused. "You say that as if you weren’t the one who walked into my life and offered yourself to me, darling."

Her expression softened for a moment as she swirled the wine in her glass, watching the liquid shimmer in the light.

"Perhaps I did," she murmured.

Then, with a bold tilt of her head, she downed the wine in a single, graceful motion.

Almost instantly, warmth spread through her veins, curling deep in her cunt.

Her eyes fluttered for a brief second as she realized how potent the drink truly was.

For something to affect a cultivator of her strength—it was no ordinary wine.

Riley’s eyes never left her.

He lifted his own glass and drank deeply, his gaze full of appreciation and hunger.

"You were the one who offered yourself," he repeated, his voice low and rich.

"And I, for one, am eternally grateful for that."

Iris met his eyes, her cheeks faintly flushed.

"You certainly don’t sound regretful," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Regret?" Riley leaned back slightly, a confident smile tugging at his lips.

"How could any man regret claiming a goddess?"

Her heart skipped, though she quickly hid it behind a roll of her eyes. "Flattery won’t get you anywhere."

"Oh, I’m not flattering," Riley said, his tone soft but full of conviction.

"You are beauty itself, Iris. Every man in that hall looked at you tonight and envied me."

For a moment, silence lingered between them—thick, charged, and electric.

Iris turned her gaze aside, pretending to inspect the candles flickering beside the bed.

But her hands betrayed her composure; her fingers brushed the edge of the tablecloth, tracing idle patterns as though trying to anchor herself.

Riley stood slowly, his movements graceful and deliberate.

He set his empty glass down and walked around the table, stopping behind her.

His fingers gently brushed her shoulders, tracing the embroidered edges of her gown.

Her breath caught. The fabric was thin, and she could feel the heat of his touch seeping through it.

"You’re still wearing your bridal gown," he murmured, his voice barely above her ear.

"It’s almost a shame to ruin something so exquisite..." He paused, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. "...but tonight, I just might."

Iris turned her head slightly, enough to meet his gaze. "And what if I said I’d stop you?"

"Then," Riley whispered, leaning closer until his breath brushed against her skin, "I’d ask you to try."

Her heart raced.

The candlelight flickered across their faces, casting shadows that danced along the walls.

The room was heavy with anticipation—the scent of wine, roses, and longing blending into one intoxicating air.

Iris stood, slowly turning to face him. The soft rustle of her gown filled the quiet room.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

Their eyes met—husband and wife, warrior and cultivator, man and woman.

And then, as though drawn by a force beyond their control, they closed the distance between them.

When they were barely inches apart, Riley lifted his hand and gently cupped Iris’s face.

His touch was slow and deliberate, almost reverent, as if he were blind and trying to memorize her through touch alone—the curve of her cheek, the shape of her lips, the warmth of her skin beneath his calloused fingers.

Then, his hand moved upward to the delicate crown resting upon her head.

He studied it for a brief moment—its golden gleam catching the candlelight—before pulling it away with gentle care.

Her long, black hair slipped free, cascading down her back like a dark waterfall.

The transformation was instant. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Where moments ago sat a regal, untouchable beauty, now stood a wild enchantress.

The soft, disciplined elegance of a bride was gone, replaced by a natural, untamed allure that made Riley’s breath catch.

"Much better," he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion.

"I like you this way, Iris. The real you. Not the Elder... not the untouchable beauty the world worships." His lips curved into a teasing grin. "You’ve no idea how many times I’ve wanted to see this side of you again. The one that shows up when you’re furious with me after I’ve bested you in a duel."

Iris gave a small scoff, though her lips trembled slightly. "You were c—"

Her protest was abruptly silenced as Riley closed the remaining distance and pressed his lips to hers.

For a split second, Iris froze. Her eyes widened, her breath stopped, and her mind went utterly blank.

It was her first kiss—unexpected, disarming, and far too intense for her to process.

But then something deep within her stirred, and her instincts—those long-suppressed emotions she never dared to name—took over.

Her eyes fluttered shut.

Slowly, she began to kiss him back. Hesitant at first, clumsy even, but it only took a moment for their rhythm to find harmony.

Riley deepened the kiss, his warmth enveloping her like fire spreading through silk.

The world around them seemed to fade—the flickering candles, the soft scent of roses, even the whisper of the wind outside.

All that remained was the sound of their mingled breaths and the intoxicating pulse of desire.

Riley’s arms wrapped around her waist, firm and protective.

He drew her close until there was no space left between them.

Iris could feel his heartbeat pounding against her chest, steady and strong, matching the wild rhythm of her own.

His hands moved slowly up her back, tracing the lines of her gown, feeling the tremble in her body that betrayed her hidden longing.

She clung to him without realizing it, her fingers curling into the fabric of his robe as if afraid he might vanish if she let go.

When they finally parted, both were breathless.

Iris’s lips were slightly swollen, her cheeks flushed, her eyes dazed with emotions she could neither name nor suppress.

Riley looked at her for a long moment, saying nothing. Then, with a faint, tender smile, he brushed his thumb across her lower lip.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that," he said softly.

Her heart trembled at his words.

"You talk too much," she whispered, her voice barely audible—but the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips betrayed her true feelings.

Riley chuckled, his eyes gleaming with warmth. "Then maybe I should let my actions speak instead."

Before she could answer, he leaned in once more—slower this time, giving her a chance to meet him halfway.

Their lips touched again, softer, deeper, carrying the weight of everything left unsaid between them.

The candles flickered in rhythm with their movements, casting dancing shadows across the room.

The air was thick with warmth, longing, and something far deeper than either of them dared to admit.

The regal bride and the mighty warrior—two souls who had clashed countless times before—finally stood united, not as rivals, but as husband and wife, bound by both passion and fate.

The world had shrunk to the space between their lips and the thrilling, narrow distance from the sofa to their bed.

Riley carried her as if she were weightless, a precious burden he would never tire of bearing.

Iris clung to him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her face buried in the warmth of his skin, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent that was uniquely his.

Their kiss never broke, a continuous, hungry seal that spoke of years of love and a sudden, urgent need.

He laid her down upon the cool, soft duvet with a reverence that belied the heat coursing through him.

The mattress dipped as he joined her, his larger frame slotting against hers with an instinctive, perfect fit.

For a long moment, they simply kissed, rediscovering the landscape of each other’s mouths—a slow, languid dance of tongues that was both a promise and a prelude.

Riley’s hands, which had held hers through so much of life, began a new, more urgent journey.

They slid from her waist, over the delicate curve of her hips, and up the sensitive plane of her ribs.

The silken fabric of her robe was a mere whisper, a flimsy barrier he was impatient to remove.

His touch was not that of a timid suitor seeking permission; it was the confident claim of a husband who knew the treasure that was his.

Iris arched into his palms, a silent, powerful encouragement.

Her own hands were not idle, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel the solid warmth of his chest against her own.

But he was a step ahead.

Still kissing her, drowning in the taste of her, his fingers found the loose knot of her robe’s belt.

With a single, deliberate tug, the garment fell open.

A sharp, quiet gasp escaped Iris, caught by his mouth.

The cool air of the room kissed her skin, raising goosebumps that were quickly soothed by the heat of his gaze.

There she was, spilled before him, her form encased only in a daring slash of red lace.

The bra was a confection, a bold contrast against her pale skin, and it strained to contain the generous swell of her breasts.

"So beautiful," he breathed against her lips, the words a vibration she felt deep within her cunt.

He didn’t linger on the sight for long, his need for touch overwhelming.

With a deftness born of intimate knowledge, he reached behind her.

The clasp gave way without a fight, and the red lace was discarded, tossed aside to land in a silent pool of fabric on the floor.

The final barrier was gone.

Finally, his hands found their home.

He filled his palms with her, a slow, worshipful kneading that made her breath hitch.

Her skin was impossibly soft, yielding to his touch yet firm.

He circled the pads of his thumbs over her nipples, which had tightened into desperate, rosy peaks, first one, then the other, giving each his full, rapt attention.

He rolled them gently, then with more pressure, learning the rhythm that made her tremble.

The intimate, expert ministration shattered her composure.

A low, throaty moan welled up from her chest, a sound she didn’t recognize as her own.

It was raw, unfiltered, and profoundly erotic.

"Hmmmm...."

The sound broke through their kiss, hanging in the air between them.

The moment it escaped, a wave of scorching heat rushed to her cheeks.

She broke the kiss, burying her face into the crook of his neck, her entire body flushing with a mixture of overwhelming pleasure and sudden, sharp embarrassment.

"I... I didn’t know I could sound like that," she whispered, her voice muffled against his skin.

Riley stilled his hands, but only to cradle her face, forcing her to meet his eyes.

His gaze was dark, intense, but filled with an adoration that soothed her sudden shyness.

"Iris," he said, his voice husky with emotion.

"That is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. Don’t you ever hold it back. Not from me."

His reassurance was a key turning in a lock, freeing something wild and untamed within her.

As his mouth descended upon hers once more, she met him with a newfound fervor, no longer afraid of the sounds, the sensations, or the depth of the passion he was unlocking in her soul.