Chapter 91
At the hot, rough sensation, Arzeletta twitched her legs. The man’s p***s, powerfully firm, seized the opportunity and thrust between her slightly parted thighs.
“!”
The weapon-like hard tip touched Arzeletta’s soft mound. Just the brush of it sent an unsettling sensation up her spine.
In her confusion, Arzeletta’s legs lost strength. Slide, between her parting, clean thighs, a secret and sensitive entrance was revealed.
Arzeletta was already exhausted, as if depleted by the continuous stimulation alone. But the young and robust Holy Knight was relentlessly persistent, seemingly never tiring. He slowly lowered his hand.
Below her pubic hair, soft and docile like seaweed, Ragnar inserted his finger into the secretly formed crevice.
“…You.”
Ragnar gritted his teeth. She was thoroughly wet below.
Since when, exactly.
Arzeletta gasped, her head slightly bowed to the side. Her flushed pink cheeks, her moist eyelashes, and her slightly parted lips answered for her.
“……!”
Arzeletta’s shoulders tensed again.
Ragnar readjusted his position above her body.
His firm knee parted Arzeletta’s knees and thrust in like a massive pillar.
The woman’s slender legs parted without resistance and wrapped around the man’s solid waist.
Her red peaks, thoroughly touched by him, rose lovely and brushed against the wild flowers. The two peaks, wet with his saliva, gleamed as if coated in sugar water. Her sensitized body trembled minutely even at the soft brush of wild flowers and grass.
Arzeletta looked up with wet eyes at the man seated above her as if reigning.
“Maid.”
Ragnar spoke, bending over Arzeletta’s body like a predator.
“Flee, now.”
“……”
“If you are to escape, now is your last chance.”
The man’s voice, hoarse as if roughened, was threatening, yet simultaneously desperate.
Arzeletta reached out. Her fingers wrapped around the man’s silver hair, which had always been meticulously styled upwards but was now loosely disheveled from the water.
Arzeletta herself couldn’t explain the impulse of this moment.
Perhaps it was destined from the moment she ran barefoot to this place tonight, drawn by an incomprehensible pull.
Arzeletta pulled Ragnar’s head closer. Their lips met once more. It was a desperate kiss, like that of long-separated lovers.
Something hard as a weapon thrust into her soft, deep mound, softer than down. Arzeletta opened herself.
‘To draw closer to the Lord.’
She recalled her categorical imperative, repeated like a parrot.
Perhaps those words she had repeated had ultimately led her here.
…Perhaps it was guilt, and perhaps pity.
Perhaps it was because he dared to pity this great man who must die solely for his own love.
Ragnar’s large hand gripped his menacingly e***t p***s. Even in the darkness, the hardness of the dark blue veins wrapping around him was distinct.
Held in the warrior’s hand, the already monstrous form appeared even more aggressive.
With his other hand, Ragnar gripped Arzeletta’s thigh. Arzeletta, like a pure offering, laid herself before him and waited.
“……!”
An immense pressure was felt. It already felt as if she was suffocating. Every part of his body was hard as steel.
Arzeletta’s hand, buried in his hair, cramped. He positioned himself at Arzeletta’s entrance, like a knife plunging in, and arched his back. Slowly, Ragnar then shifted his weight, heavy as a rock.
“Ah, hmph…!”
Arzeletta gasped sharply.
Something hard pushed into her soft flesh. She only felt that hard, blunt tip, yet it already felt as if her small entrance was tearing.
Arzeletta closed her eyes. In the dizziness of falling into a bottomless place, she clung to Ragnar’s neck again. Ragnar’s breath falling on her face was also hot as fire.
Once again, it was the moment he heavily pushed in.
“……!”
Arzeletta opened her closed eyes.
The air had changed.
“My Lord…”
Ragnar suddenly furrowed his brow. His gaze, which had been intensely fixated on the woman’s body he was about to penetrate, shifted sideways.
The man, who had seemed about to split her body open and enter, released his grip on Arzeletta.
Ragnar glared with sharp eyes at somewhere by the lakeside.
“…Damn it.”
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