The sky beyond the estate had turned a pale, sleepy indigo by the time I finally returned to my chambers. After today—first Selvira, then the merchant, then Sylthiel—I honestly thought I might get a quiet night to myself. A moment to just sit on my obscenely soft mattress and reflect on how far I'd fallen from food delivery and unemployment interviews.
But that illusion shattered the moment I saw Verona standing beside my bed with a candle in hand and her ever-serene expression.
"My Lord," she said calmly. "Lady Selvira has requested to spend the night in your room."
I blinked. "She what?"
"She said she felt lonely. Would you like me to turn her away?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "Can you do that?"
Verona tilted her head just slightly. "Would you like me to lie to her?"
"…No."
"Very well." She bowed gracefully. "I'll return shortly with wine and fruit."
She left before I could invent an escape plan.
I stood in the middle of the room, heart pounding. I was wearing a loose robe—open at the chest, like every noble outfit here—and my hair was still slightly damp from the bath. The fireplace flickered gently. The sheets on the massive bed were freshly laid. Everything was warm. Too warm.
Then the door creaked.
And Selvira stepped in.
She wore a sheer, deep red nightgown that clung to her body like silk melted into skin. The fabric flowed over her curves with such precision it seemed magical—cut low at the chest, high at the thigh, and nonexistent beneath.
She said nothing. Just walked slowly toward me, bare feet soundless on the carpet. Her long hair trailed behind her like a dark veil of promise.
I tried to speak. Failed.
She stopped only inches away, eyes never leaving mine.
"You seem nervous," she whispered.
"I… might be."
A soft smile. "Why? You've taken me countless times before. Or have you forgotten how I sound when I moan your name?"
I swallowed hard.
Her hand reached up, fingers brushing down the middle of my chest. My breath caught.
"I've been patient, Caldus. You've stared at me like a starving man all day. Don't pretend you're not aching for it."
I looked into her eyes. There was no mockery there. Only desire—and something tender. Affection, maybe. Or ownership.
"…Remind me," I said, voice low.
That was all she needed.
---
She guided me to the bed with the grace of a dancer. Her fingers undid the knot of my robe. It slipped from my shoulders, pooling at my feet.
I was exposed—body, breath, soul. She looked at me like I was treasure she'd earned.
Then she undress herself, revealing her gorgeous body, beautiful breast, her long legs, and her cute sacred part.
She pushed me back gently onto the bed, straddled me slowly, inserting my already hard rod into her sacred hole, and leaned in to kiss—not my lips, but my collarbone. Then my shoulder. Then my neck. Every touch was fire, and every breath between us thickened the air.
My hands moved on their own, tracing the sides of her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin. She gasped softly against my jaw, her thighs tightening around mine.
Her lips met mine.
Not gently. Not tenderly.
Hungrily.
---
We moved together, slowly at first. My rod goes in and out her sacred hole, while her hips swayed with measured rhythm, and her hands wove through my hair like she was anchoring herself.
Her beautiful breasts swaying in front of my face, up and down. I stare at her beautiful nipples.
She whispered my name between kisses, between motions, between breaths that broke and resumed like music. My body responded instinctively. My mind struggled to keep up. The heat, the scent of her skin, the tension in her muscles—it all drew me in deeper than I could resist.
Every time she moaned, something inside me burned.
Suddenly she arched her back and gasped my name, her body trembles, her sacred hole tighten her grip to my rod, releasing her sacred juice, a sign of climaxing.
At the same time, I also feel my climax start to happen.
Immediately I grab her hips, thrusting my rod deeper to shoot massive amount of love liquid inside her, in quick succession. Every shooting of my love liquid inside her sacred hole makes her trembles and moan loudly and pleasurably.
She collapsed against me when it was over, breath heavy, sweat clinging to her skin.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Her head rested on my chest. My hand rested on her back, fingers tracing small circles on her spine.
"…That felt like your first time with me," she whispered.
I froze.
She didn't push. Just curled closer.
"I didn't mind," she said. "It was… beautiful."
I stared at the ceiling.
And then, once again, I heard her voice.
Velmaria. The Goddess. I assume.
A breath against my ear, soft and sultry, barely a whisper.
"The body has awakened. Soon, the soul shall follow. One step closer to becoming mine…"
I closed my eyes.
And didn't know whether to feel fear… or satisfaction.