Deep within the palace, the great hall was brightly lit, red palace lanterns illuminating the golden dragon pillars brilliantly. Tonight was Princess Rosalie's coming-of-age ceremony. Outside the hall, envoys from various martial arts sects had long been barred at the palace gates, while inside gathered princes, ministers, and close imperial guards. The air was filled with the scent of ambergris and faint powder, mixed with the suppressed breathing of the men.
Rosalie was dressed properly by her nanny. She wore only a snow-white, transparent robe specially prepared for the coming-of-age ceremony. The gauzy fabric, thin as cicada wings, clung to her skin, faintly revealing the curves of a mature woman. Twenty years of meticulous care had allowed her body to develop extremely voluptuously. Her towering breasts almost spilled from the gauze robe, her pink nipples clearly visible; her waist was slender, her hips full and round, her legs long and shapely. The dark pubic hair faintly outlined the contours of her private parts through the thin gauze. She lowered her head, cheeks slightly flushed, yet dared not defy the court's rules.
“Look... the princess is truly beautiful enough tonight to be breathtaking.” The Grand Councillor of the Imperial Cabinet, Lei Luo, was already fifty-six, yet he still couldn’t help praising her in a low voice. His hand pressed over his official robe onto the lower part of his body that had long since grown hard, the thick, long object outlining a distinct bulge beneath the fabric. The commander of the imperial guard beside him was even directly reaching out to knead his own crotch, breathing heavily. Many officials below the platform had their eyes fixed, their throats bobbing; some had even begun lightly stroking their own organs.
On the high dragon throne, King Luosha sat upright. In his early fifties, his figure remained imposing; his long-term martial arts training gave him more imposing pressure than many young generals. His gaze firmly locked onto his daughter, sweeping from her full chest down to her long legs. In his eyes, there was both a father's affection and desires suppressed for many years.
“Come here, my good daughter.” The king’s voice was low and gentle, yet carried an irresistible force.
Rosalind raised her head and walked toward the dragon throne with light steps. The transparent robe swayed gently with her movements, her breasts rising and falling slightly, nipples rubbing against the gauze fabric, creating subtle protrusions. She stopped before her father, lowered her eyelids, and said in a soft voice: "Father... Rosalind is here."
The king stretched out a large hand and pulled her onto his lap. His broad palm wrapped around her slender waist, while his other hand naturally stroked her back. Rosalie sat on her father’s solid thighs and immediately felt that thick, already hard object pressing through the fabric against the seam of her buttocks. Her body trembled slightly, but she did not break away.
“The wet nurse really raised you well.” The king’s breath fanned her ear, warm. “My daughter, don’t be afraid. Father will let you know what true bliss is.”
Rosalind lifted her eyes to meet her father's gaze, already deeply stained with desire. The usually affectionate eyes were now filled with naked craving. She felt somewhat flustered, yet an inexplicable thread of anticipation rose within her. Since childhood, she had heard her mother's moans outside the bedchamber countless times and had seen her father galloping atop her mother. Those images were deeply imprinted in her heart, making her feel both nervous and faintly eager on this day of her coming-of-age ceremony.
The king did not say any more. He wrapped an arm around his daughter’s back of the head and lowered his head to kiss her soft red lips. Rosalie widened her eyes in surprise, but was quickly drowned in that forceful yet gentle kiss. Her father’s tongue pried open her teeth, entwining with her small tongue and bringing wave after wave of tingling pleasure. Her arms unconsciously climbed around her father’s neck, and her body softened as she leaned into his embrace.
The kiss grew deeper and deeper. The king’s large hand moved up from her waist, grasping one plump breast through the sheer gauze. His palm kneaded firmly, and his fingertips precisely grazed the hard, erect tip. Rosalie could not help but let out soft, broken moans, the sounds spilling from between their entangled lips: “Mm... Father King...”
The king released her lips, lowered his head, and took the other nipple through the gauzy robe. He gently licked it with the tip of his tongue, lightly caught it with his teeth, then sucked hard. The transparent gauze quickly became soaked with saliva, clinging tightly to the pink breast flesh. Rosalie tilted her head back, breathing fast, both hands gripping her father’s court robe. Her body, never treated like this before, trembled with sensitivity, and a surge of heat rushed from her chest straight down to her lower abdomen.
“Sally... you’re so beautiful.” The king raised his head, his voice hoarse. “Father has wanted you for so many years.”
He could no longer endure it and reached out to slip her transparent long robe off her shoulders. Her snow-white skin was completely exposed to the eyes of everyone in the hall. Immediately, suppressed gasps and low praise rose from below the platform. Minister of Military Affairs Lei Luo had already fully pulled out his swollen eighteen-inch giant, and was vigorously stroking it; the commander also loosened his belt and gripped his rigid organ, rubbing it quickly. Some of the other ministers blushed and turned their eyes away, while others stared blankly at the princess’s body, their hands moving不停 beneath their robes.
Rosalie, ashamed, wanted to cover herself, but her father gently pressed down her hands. The king spread her legs apart, making her face the stage below. Her mature private parts were fully exposed; beneath the dark pubic hair were pink, moist petals, slightly parted, revealing a glistening wetness inside.
“Don’t be afraid, let them see.” The king whispered in her ear, “This is your coming-of-age rite, and also a gift from Father King.”
His fingers slid down from her lower abdomen, parting the pubic hair, and lightly stroked that tender flesh. His finger pads slowly moved over the petals, occasionally probing into the slit, bringing out more transparent love juice. Rosalie’s body trembled, and she could not help clenching her legs, but her father pushed them open with his knee.
“Mm……ah……so舒服……” her voice already carried a tearful, coquettish tone, “Father King……your fingers……”
“Do you like it?” the king asked, speeding up his movements. Two fingers were together, slowly yet deeply entering her tight passage, mimicking the rhythm of thrusting. His thumb circled the sensitive bump above.
“Li… like…” Rosalie answered honestly, her face blushing so hard it seemed almost ready to drip blood. Her waist unconsciously twisted along with her father’s fingers, and more love juice flowed down the insides of her thighs, wetting the king’s court robe.
The king smiled with satisfaction and said lowly: “Remember, this is your father loving you. Your father loves Sally here... later, he’ll use this place to properly dote on you.”
He withdrew his fingers, displaying the glistening liquid on his fingertips, then put the fingers into his own mouth and licked them clean. Afterwards, he untied his robe, revealing that already fully erect massive thing. Its size was astonishing, veins coiling over it, with transparent fluid already seeping from the tip. He held the organ, rubbing it back and forth between his daughter’s butt crack and petals, yet still did not enter.
“Father… come in…” Rosalie couldn’t help but speak, her voice soft and seductive. She herself was surprised by how主动 she was.
Yet the king remained patient. He turned her around so she faced him, with her legs straddling his lap. One hand supported her butt, the other held his own member, slowly aiming at that moist entrance.
“Relax... Father will be very gentle.”
He pushed in little by little. The tight passage was stretched open bit by bit, and Rosalie let out a long moan, her fingers gripping her father’s shoulder tightly. The initial swelling pain was quickly replaced by a deeper pleasure. When he was fully inside, both of them let out satisfied sighs at the same time.
The king began to thrust in and out slowly. Every entry was deep and steady, and every withdrawal brought out wet sounds of water. Rosalie’s breasts shook violently with the movement, and her nipples occasionally rubbed against her father’s chest. Fully immersed in this forbidden pleasure, she actively twisted her waist to accommodate her father’s thrusts.
The ministers below no longer cared about propriety. Lailo’s stroking speed grew faster and faster, and the commander even shot once directly, with milky-white liquid splashing onto the ground. Others either lowered their heads and rubbed quickly, or stared fixedly at the father and daughter coupling on the dragon throne, breathing heavily.
The king sped up. He supported his daughter’s butt with both hands and thrust hard upward. Every impact was precise and fierce, driving straight to the deepest part. Rosalie’s moans grew higher and higher, her body trembling violently, her passage contracting in waves.
“Father… I… I want to…”
“Together.” The king growled, and after the final violent thrusts, buried himself deeply, injecting all the scorching liquid into his daughter’s body. Rosalie reached orgasm at the same time, her body collapsing limply into her father’s arms, her flower hole twitching nonstop, as love fluid and semen mixed together and overflowed from the point of intercourse.
Afterward, the king did not pull out immediately. He gently kissed his daughter’s forehead, the corners of her eyes, and her lips, his voice low and tender: “This is only the beginning. From tonight on, you are Father King’s true woman.”
Rosalie leaned against her father's broad chest, feeling the residual heat and soreness within her, her heartbeat still not calmed. She looked up, met her father's gaze, and gave a slight nod.
The lights in the hall remained bright. The ministers below gradually straightened their robes, but some still stared blankly at the father and daughter embracing on the dragon throne. Minister of Military Affairs, Lei Luo, wiped the corner of his mouth and whispered to the commander, "After tonight... the princess probably will never leave the king's side again."
The king carried his daughter to her feet, straightened the court robe again, yet deliberately let the still-half-hard member show its outline beneath the fabric. He said softly to Rosalie: “Back to the sleeping chamber. Your father still has many things he wants to teach you.”
Rosalind nodded. The transparent robe was draped over her again, but it couldn't conceal the red marks on her body or the wetness between her legs. She followed her father out of the great hall, behind her were the ministers' suppressed yet not entirely concealed panting and whispers.
That night, the lights in the deep palace bedchamber burned all night long. The forbidden pleasure between father and daughter had only just begun. The storms of the martial arts world were about to arrive, yet the undercurrents of desire within the palace were even more turbulent than any martial arts vendetta.
The door of the bedchamber was gently closed by the heavy golden-threaded nanmu wood. The guards outside had long been ordered by the king himself to retreat thirty paces away. Ambergris burned slowly in the bronze incense burner, its smoke coiling around the red sandalwood bedposts, dyeing the entire space in an ambiguous, warm, and dusky yellow.
Rosalie was carried by her father and placed in the center of the vast dragon bed. Her already soaked transparent robe was completely stripped away, her snow-white skin fully exposed under the lamplight. The king was in no hurry to enter her again. Instead, he first bent down and kissed her inch by inch with his lips. From her forehead to the corners of her eyes, from the tip of her nose to her chin, then to the faint red mark on the side of her neck that had appeared from the previous climax. His kisses were slow, carrying a kind of almost reverent possession.
“Sally, does it still hurt?” he asked softly, his voice even hoarser than in the great hall.
Rosalind shook her head, her cheeks still flushed. She raised her hand and gently caressed her father's cheek. That usually stern face was now extremely close to her; his stubble brushed against her palm, bringing a slight sting and itch. She suddenly felt that she had been waiting for this night for a very long time.
The king’s large hand once again covered her breasts. This time there was no gauze in between; his palm pressed directly against the warm soft flesh, kneading and squeezing hard. The nipples were repeatedly teased between his fingers and quickly hardened again. He lowered his head to take one in his mouth, sucking hard, lightly biting with his teeth, and circling the areola with the tip of his tongue. The other was pinched between his thumb and forefinger and pulled rhythmically. Rosalie couldn’t help tilting her head back, soft moans spilling from her throat. Her waist arched slightly, and her legs unconsciously clenched and then relaxed.
“Father… be gentler…” Her voice carried a soft, coquettish sobbing tone, yet she did not really push him away.
The king raised his head, his eyes full of amusement and desire: “Just now in the grand hall, you weren’t saying that.”
He kissed her lips again, his tongue forcefully slipping in and entwining with hers. At the same time, his hand reached down and once again stroked the place that had just been filled. The petals were still wet and swollen, and the fluids mixed with the traces he had left behind, sticky to the touch. Two fingers slid in easily, slowly thrusting in and out, the pads of his fingers curled to scrape along the inner wall. Rosalie’s body immediately tensed, her toes curling, both hands gripping the bedsheets.
"It's still jumping inside..." The king whispered in her ear, his voice carrying obvious satisfaction, "The Father's stuff, you swallowed it all."
Rosalie was so embarrassed she wanted to bury her face in the pillow, but he forcibly lifted her chin to continue the deep kiss. The movement of his fingers grew faster, and a third finger squeezed in. The passage was stretched open, emitting faint wet sounds. Her moans were blocked by the kiss, only intermittent whimpers escaping from her nose. As climax approached again, the king suddenly withdrew his fingers, leaving her suspended in mid-air.
“Don’t rush.” He chuckled softly, sat up himself, and took off all his robes.
The mature and robust body was fully revealed. The muscle lines left by years of martial arts training undulated under the lamplight, with a broad chest and tight waist and abdomen. That thick, long organ was fully erect again, even more swollen and harder than in the hall, with clear fluid continuously seeping from the tip. He held himself, sliding it back and forth over his daughter's lower abdomen and inner thighs, leaving wet, shiny traces.
“Spread your legs yourself.” he ordered.
Rosalind hesitated for a moment but complied. She spread her legs wide, her private parts completely exposed to her father's gaze. The king's breathing noticeably grew heavier. He leaned down, first using the tip of his tongue to lick along that slit, from bottom to top, slowly and meticulously. The flat of his tongue scraped against the sensitive petals, then circled around that already swollen nub. Rosalind's body trembled violently; she gripped his hair tightly with both hands, unsure whether she wanted to push him away or press him closer.
“Father… ah… there… too…”
He didn't stop. His tongue entered the passage, imitating the thrusting motion in and out, while his lips sealed around the outer edge and sucked hard. Love juice kept flowing out, and he swallowed it all. Rosalie's moans grew higher and higher, her waist uncontrollably arching upward. Just as she was about to climax again, the king поднят his head and replaced it with his own organ against the entrance.
This time, the entry was deeper and more thorough than the first. He gave her no time to adjust; after burying himself fully, he began thrusting with wide, forceful strokes. The dragon bed emitted heavy creaks; the sound of flesh colliding echoed through the bedchamber. Rosalie's breasts swayed violently with the movements, her nipples occasionally brushing against his chest. Her arms wrapped around her father's neck, her legs entwined around his waist, actively meeting each impact.
"Slow... slower... Father... it's too deep..."
"I can't go slower." the king panted back, his movements instead growing faster, "You're clenching too tight... Father can't help it."
He changed angles, and every thrust hit precisely to the deepest point. Rosalie’s vision kept whitening as wave after wave of climax surged up. Her passage contracted violently, clenching the invading organ tightly. The king let out a low roar, and after the final fierce thrusts, he once again injected all the scorching liquid. The two of them held each other tightly, breathing mingling, heartbeats overlapping.
Afterward, the king did not pull out immediately. He lay down on his side and circled his daughter completely in his arms, the thing still half-hard and buried inside her. One hand lightly patted her back, while the other continued to knead her breasts without behaving properly.
“Tired?” he asked.
Rosalind nodded, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible: "A little..."
“Then let’s rest for a bit first.” He kissed the top of her hair, “but Father still hasn’t had enough.”
Even so, his movements became much gentler. His fingers slowly slid across her back, from her shoulder blades to the small of her back, then down along her spine. Occasionally probing to the cleft of her buttocks, pressing gently. Rosalie gradually relaxed in his arms, her breathing becoming long and even. Just as she was almost falling asleep, the instrument inside her hardened again, slowly beginning to thrust.
This time, the rhythm was extremely slow, as if savoring every detail. Each entry was deep and steady; upon withdrawal, almost only the tip remained before slowly sinking back in. Rosalie was rendered limp by this tormenting pleasure, only able to passively endure. Her moans became intermittent, carrying a seductive mix of drowsiness and lust.
“Father… you’re so bad…”
“To you, of course I’m bad.” The king gave a low laugh and quickened his pace a little. “From now on, every night, I’ll hold you like this when we sleep.”
The night gradually deepened. The lights in the sleeping palace were dimmed further, leaving only two palace lanterns still lit. No one knew how many positions the father and daughter had changed through. Sometimes Rosalie was straddling her father, taking the initiative to rise and fall; sometimes she lay on the bed, deeply entered from behind; sometimes they lay side by side facing each other, one leg lifted, with slow and long thrusts. After every climax, the king would stop to kiss her and soothe her, yet he never truly let her go.
Until the sky outside the window began to lighten, the two finally stopped completely. Rosalie was almost exhausted, her body covered in red marks and kiss traces, and the area between her legs was a complete mess. The king held her tightly in his arms, covered both of them with a thin blanket, and whispered in her ear:
“Sleep. After dawn, there are still many things waiting for us.”
Rosalie was so tired she couldn't open her eyes, just instinctively shrinking further into her father's embrace, murmuring: 'Father... don't go...'
"I'm not leaving," he replied, his voice unusually gentle. "Never."
When the morning sunlight filtered through the window gauze into the bedchamber, Rosalie slowly awoke. Every part of her body ached terribly, especially her waist and the roots of her thighs. She stirred slightly and realized she was still encircled by her father's sturdy arm, and that familiar member was半硬地 (semi-hard) pressed against her inner thigh.
The king also woke up. He lowered his head and kissed his daughter’s forehead, his voice hoarse from just waking: “Awake?”
Rosalind nodded, somewhat embarrassed and wanting to bury her face in the quilt. The king, however, wouldn't let her hide; he directly flipped over and pressed her beneath him, kissing her lips again. This kiss carried the unique laziness and possessiveness of the early morning and soon turned into a deeper entanglement.
“Father… do you still want it now?” she asked softly.
“Of course.” He answered as if it were only natural, already using his knees to part her legs, “Yesterday was only the beginning. Today, Father King will make you remember once and for all whose person you are.”
When he entered again, Rosalie was already completely wet. The passage was slightly swollen and red from excessive use the previous night, yet it still clung tightly. Their movements were slower than in the night, but also deeper. Bit by bit, the sunlight climbed up to the edge of the bed, illuminating their entwined limbs and sweat-damp skin.
This time, after it ended, the king finally rose. He draped on his sleeping robe, walked to the window, and looked out at the gradually bustling palace grounds. Rosalie lay on the bed, watching her father's back, and suddenly spoke:
“Father… will those people from the jianghu come looking for trouble?”
The king was silent for a moment, then turned around. His gaze had already returned to its usual authority, but when it landed on his daughter, it softened a little more.
“Yes.” he admitted. “Your coming-of-age ceremony news has already spread. Some people want to use you as a pawn, and some want to use this chance to attack this prince. But they don’t know that since last night, you’re no longer a pawn anyone can lay a hand on.”
He walked back to the bed, bent down, and kissed her lips: “From now on, the Father King will protect you. You only need to... stay properly by the Father King's side.”
Rosalie looked at him, suddenly reached out and grabbed his sleeve, giving it a gentle tug. The king bent down following the force, and was once again actively kissed by his daughter. This time, she was the one who extended her tongue first.
“Then……now, once more, okay?” she asked softly, her cheeks red as if they were about to drip blood, yet her gaze was unusually clear.
The king froze for a moment, then let out a low laugh. He pressed back onto the bed again, his voice thick with indulgence and desire:
"Okay. Father promises you."
The dragon bed made soft sounds again. The palace servants outside the window had already begun to move about, yet none dared approach this bedchamber half a step. The morning sun gradually rose higher, casting the entire imperial palace in a resplendent golden glow, yet it could not penetrate this tightly closed door. Inside, the forbidden and lingering intimacy between father and daughter continued.
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