It Seems Like The Infamous Trash Can is Right Here! - Chapter 98
With her lips swollen and her body trembling in his arms, he coaxed her closer to pleasure.
He led her, and she was entranced by his touch, and followed his lead.
She undressed herself, lifting the hem of her skirt.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, she hesitated for a moment before slowly parting her thighs.
The moment he saw her, her slick, glistening folds, already soaked before they had even begun. His vision blurred with lust.
His already aching length pulsed, a desperate urge to bury himself inside her overwhelming him. But he clenched his teeth and forced himself to wait.
His hands gripped her trembling thighs, and as he leaned in… His lips brushed against her, drinking in the sweet scent of her. His mind went completely blank.
Lionel had always found it strange—those men who buried their faces between a woman’s thighs, devouring her greedily. He had never understood why. But now… Now he knew.
By the time he came to his senses, his mouth was already on her, his tongue desperately lapping her up.
The slick essence coating his tongue was intoxicating. As if her scent had condensed into liquid form, it seeped into him, mixing with the lewd aroma rising from her bare flesh.
It was heady— a potion crafted for seduction, a drug that only fueled his hunger. So consumed with tasting her, Lionel had forgotten everything else.
Even his own aching length, neglected, and pulsing in frustration, was of little concern compared to the unquenchable pleasure of devouring her.
The only thing that plagued his thoughts was fear that she would ask him to stop. That fear alone had him working his tongue faster, deeper, rougher. His lips sealed around her, licking, then he pushed his tongue inside. His tongue was no thicker than two fingers at most, but she was tight, and the pressure of her inner walls clamping down on him was immense.
What would it feel like to be buried inside her completely? To sink himself into this searing heat and feel her stretch around him? Just the thought sent a violent shudder of excitement through him.
Even with half-hearted strokes, his length was already leaking. Dripping, desperate, as if begging to be inside her.
‘No. I can’t.’
Lionel had to rein himself in over and over again, because if he let go, he’d cross that line before he knew it.
Serenia was too beautiful. With every cry of pleasure, with every shuddering gasp, she drove him further into madness.
Her flushed cheeks. Her parted lips. The way her tear-filled eyes trembled as she came undone beneath his tongue.
When she reached her third climax, so did he.
For days, he had been torturing himself, stroking himself to the memory of her, and now that she was finally in front of him, it took no stimulation for him to spill.
His release spurted hot, staining his hands, his abdomen, his trousers.
Even as he stared at the mess he made, his body wasn’t satisfied. Even after emptying himself, he was still hard and aching.
With a scoff, Lionel shoved himself back into his trousers, as if that alone would hide his shame.
He couldn’t let Serenia see. He couldn’t let her think that he was as depraved as his own arousal made him out to be.
If she ever got the impression that he was some insatiable beast, obsessed with her and unable to control himself, then she might fear him.
But in the end, she still found out, and she completely misunderstood his s****l preferences.
Lionel had never sweated so much in the long time it had taken, trying to explain himself.
At one point, he even considered telling her the truth about his regressions, about his past lives. But before he could, his damn steward, Cale, walked in.
The news of Serenia’s official secularization should have been a cause for celebration, but all Lionel could do was stare at her smiling face as she sighed, saying that she couldn’t wear her priestess robes anymore.
‘She doesn’t actually believe that, does she?’
He desperately hoped that she didn’t genuinely believe he was some lust-driven beast, obsessed with forbidden pleasures.
