From the Tip of the Tongue of the Lowliest Maid - Chapter 133

This work contains scenes of sadistic coercion and hardcore depictions of BDSM. Reader discretion is advised.

Again, Ragnar’s lips met hers. Arzeletta gasped, then opened her lips.

She felt entirely saturated with Ragnar. The sensation of contact on her wet skin was even more acute.

Ragnar kissed Arzeletta, drawing all her sweet fluid from her. A faint taste of blood was discernible. A rose-like sweetness lingered on her tongue.

Every night, this devout maid allowed Ragnar to take her only after he had drunk the sacrificial blood.

Now, the faint scent of blood mixing with their saliva was indistinguishable, a chaotic blend of the beast’s sacrifice and the scent of rose wine he had consumed after the ritual.

Arzeletta welcomed Ragnar’s kiss with lips slightly bitten and bleeding. She sensitively felt her own blood mingling with the man’s tongue, and moved her tender tongue.

…They said that fairy blood smelled of flowers.

“…Hmph.”

Arzeletta slightly bent her legs. Her inside, deeply penetrated by Ragnar’s finger, felt slippery. As the man’s long, firm finger sensitively scraped the narrow interior, her yearning grew hotter and more intense.

“…My Lord.”

Arzeletta called him with distress. She raised her hands and held onto Ragnar’s shoulders. On the man’s bare shoulders, her shyly writhing fingers made the warrior’s trained muscles tense again.

The man’s p***s, hard and heavy as rock, pressing against her legs, was now also familiar. Arzeletta subtly moved her legs, brushing against his firm member. Even this small movement made the man’s body stir with renewed vigor.

Arzeletta lowered the corners of her eyes. His reaction was endearing, fleeting, and pitiful. She wanted to bring him comfort.

Him, who at this moment must be suffering as much as she from the heat deep within his body; him, who must be slowly dying as he ingested her blood without suspicion.

But Arzeletta knew.

“…Ah…”

This stubborn man would not take her tonight either. Just as he hadn’t throughout the previous night.

Arzeletta lifted her wet eyebrows. The hand stroking her forehead was tender. Arzeletta looked up dreamily as her sweat-drenched hair tangled around his firm fingertips.

Ragnar then turned Arzeletta’s body. With a rustling sound, Arzeletta lay prone beneath his gaze.

Arzeletta’s slender, white body rested on the sheet. Ragnar bent his body over her, who lay as still as a fallen flower petal.

“Ah…”

Ragnar’s hand swept over the hair covering Arzeletta’s prone back, as if tidying it. For a moment, Arzeletta’s shoulders noticeably twitched.

Compared to her previous reactions, which were as gentle as a flower to any stimulation that wet her below, this was clearly quite an intense reaction.

At Arzeletta’s refusal, Ragnar withdrew his hand. From past experience, the woman seemed quite uneasy when she turned her back to him. If Ragnar tried to move her hair aside to look at or kiss her back, the maid, who had been as still as if submerged in water, would then twitch her body as if resisting.

“Are you ashamed of your scars?”

Arzeletta, still lying prone, nodded at Ragnar’s question.

Ragnar, understanding the woman’s desire not to show her large scars, stopped his attempt to brush aside her hair.

Yet, he felt a pang of regret. He wanted to thoroughly examine the maid, who lay curled up white beneath him. Just as he had done every night, Ragnar wanted to meticulously trace Arzeletta’s body.

As he would examine, touch, and enjoy her beauty, so too did he wish to do with her scars.

“……”

This feeling was unfamiliar to Ragnar. Such terrible and severe wounds could never be holy or good.

Nevertheless, Ragnar now desired Arzeletta’s back. As intensely as he desired her flawless front.

But without further compulsion, Ragnar layered his body over Arzeletta’s back. Arzeletta’s two b*****s, as she lay prone on the sheet, were again grasped in his hands.

In a seemingly bound position from behind, Arzeletta was confined within his arms, her b*****s being kneaded. The tips of his long fingers again gently pinched her petal-like peaks.

Arzeletta, trapped in his embrace, let out a single breath. Ragnar stroked Arzeletta’s white b******s, then pushed his hand between her thighs. Into the yielding opening, Ragnar inserted his e***t p***s.

Arzeletta gripped the sheet.