Slowly, I rise back, sitting on the floor.
My breath still cos in uneven waves, and my body feels flushed, warm, still trembling—like I've been caught in a storm and only now landed on solid ground.
Across the room, Morvena is slumped near the far wall. Behind her, the stone bricks are cracked, a deep dent marking where she must've collided.
A massive, beautiful portrait of , or the one and only Princess Felicia, has fallen, its golden fra shattered on the floor beside a pair of toppled vases. Water soaks the rug, and the flowers that once stood so delicately in the vases are now strewn in disarray, their rosy petals scattered across the ground.
Morvena's dress is drenched. Clinging to her like silk. Her hair is tangled, her breath sharp and ragged. She looks like she's just returned from the frontlines of a crazy battle.
Which, in a way… she has.
I glance at the broken wall behind her.
Damn… what a close one.
If it hadn't been thick and reinforced with many layers of enchantnts, she might've crashed straight through and flown out of the palace entirely.
I chuckle.
Suddenly—
"Your Highness? Is everything okay in there?" a woman's voice calls from outside.
Right.
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head at myself. "I can't believe I forgot about them."
My personally selected handmaids.
They're always stationed just beyond the double doors, standing guard, waiting for orders.
They are not only maids, but fearso warriors as well. They are all pledged to protect , and I, of course, trust them with my life.
Morvena crashing against the wall must have alerted them.
However, without my order, they are not allowed to enter.
"Lina," I call, raising my voice. "I'm alright. You're all dismissed for tonight. Morvena will be staying with ."
A pause.
Then—
"B-But, Your Highness—"
"That's an order," I say, firmly, clearly.
"…As you will, Your Highness," Lina replies, and I hear the shuffle of movent, the soft echo of feet retreating down the corridor.
I focus with my eyes for a mont and activate my mana-sense, brushing against the subtle auras just beyond the chamber walls.
Gone.
Good.
Now… it's just us.
Whatever crazy things we do from now, no one would be able to hear them.
Knowing that, I turn my gaze back to Morvena.
She's still there, still sitting among the broken pieces of porcelain and petals, her chest rising and falling with shaky breaths. Her eyes et mine, wide and glassy, as though the storm inside her hasn't yet cald.
Her dress clings tightly to her fra. Her hair falls ssily around her face, soaked through and sticking to her cheek.
She's never looked more real. More raw.
More beautiful.
"Will you co to ," I ask quietly, "or should I co to you?"
Morvena's breath catches. She blinks once. Then nods—nervously, shyly.
"I-I'll co to you…" she whispers.
And she does.
On her knees, crawling across the broken glass and velvet carpet like it ans nothing to her—like the only thing that matters is closing the space between us.
Finally, she stops. Right in front of .
Her hands rest on her lap, fingers twitching slightly.
I take her hand.
Then I lean in.
Slowly.
Stopping just enough that she can feel my breath brushing against her lips.
"Morvena…" I whisper.
"Ah…" Morvena breathes, swallowing hard, her breath is heavy and warm.
And so, without another word—
I close the distance.
For her.
For a kiss.
————————————————
"Mmmmnh…"
Morvena's moan pours into my mouth, a deep, shaky growl that sets my blood on fire. It's not just sound—it's a fucking claim, a surrender, a demand all at once. I fire back with my own—a rough, desperate groan tearing out of my chest as our lips smash together, hard and ssy.
Our noises twist into a wet, filthy ss—gasps, whimpers, a nasty symphony of two bodies drowning in each other. Every ragged breath, every choked cry pumps the heat between us, the air thick with sweat and raw, dripping lust. I kiss her deeper, devouring her like she's the only thing keeping alive. Our mouths fuse, lips dragging, sucking, biting—her fat lower lip trapped between my teeth before I lick it, hot and slow. Then our tongues crash, slick and wild, tangling like snakes fucking in a sloppy, frantic dance.
Gods…
I'm losing it again. My head's spinning, heart slamming so hard it might bust out of my chest.
So this is kissing.
I fucking love it. The sensations are dangerous, addictive, insane.
"Mmmmh..."
But then, a jolt hits , hard.
Wait…
Hold the fuck up!
This mouth, this wicked tongue of her... just minutes ago, they were all over my feet, licking every inch, sucking between my toes like a shaless slut.
And now I'm kissing it.
I'm tasting it...
So… I'm basically tasting my own feet?
Indirect kissu my own feet!
Haha, what a fucked-up thought!
A crazy laugh rips out of , wild and unhinged.
But anyways, who gives a shit?
Because all I taste now is her—her spit flooding my mouth, thick and sweet like honey spiked with sin, coating my tongue until I'm dizzy.
Gods...
She's a goddamn wrecking ball of a kisser—lips moving with reckless hunger, sucking my tongue into her wet, hot mouth, clamping down just hard enough to make my body throb.
And then, as we rip apart, we are both gasping, two fucking sa of a ss.
My lungs burn, body shaking, the air between us crackling. A shiny string of spit stretches between our swollen lips, glinting like liquid silver before it snaps, dripping slow and nasty to the floor in a lewd, lusty bead.
"Morvena…" My voice is trashed, rough as hell. I lift a shaky hand, brushing her wet lower lip with my fingertip. Then, like with my toe before, I shove it in.
She takes it—eyes fluttering shut, lips closing around , warm and slick, her tongue swirling slow and dirty. It's hot, sensual—but fuck, it's nothing compared to when she's on my feet, driving wild.
Now…
She's tasted my feet, my legs, my lips, my fingers. Then...
I drag my thumb along her jaw, yanking her face up to mine. Her pupils are blown, black and starving, her breaths coming in short, horny pants.
"Wanna taste… the rest of too?" I murmur into her mouth...
A soft, needy whimper spills out of her.
"Nn…"
She nods fast, desperate, practically drooling for it, begging for it
And thus, we strip quick, tearing off our clothes, tossing them aside to bare everything.
Now, as I look at naked body her...
God damn...
I can't breathe...
Her tits are small, perky little curves topped with long, pink nipples—hard, straining, begging to grab them. Lower, her pussy's a wet dream. It's a soft pink, frad by pale blue fuzz, dripping with slimy juice that's already sared her thighs, glistening like she's been aching for this.
And ?
Sa fucking deal.
My chest heaves, nipples tight and throbbing, matching hers. Between my legs, it's a goddamn disaster. Strings of slick, horny ss are leaking out, trailing down my thighs, pooling on the floor in shaless, shimring strands.
Reviews
All reviews (0)