Chapter 71
Segleninde spread his large palm and wrapped it around the tip, then began stroking up and down all the way to the base with vigorous movements. Each time he did, thin precum dripped continuously from the slit at the tip, so that every time he grasped and rubbed himself with a wet, squelching sound, droplets would even splash onto Cynthia’s collar.
Cynthia, almost unconsciously, reached out and gently traced the thick veins bulging along his shaft. Segleninde let out an even more ragged breath than before. Now, he was stroking his c**k with such a violent hand, it almost looked as though he were hurting himself.
Her throat moved with a dry swallow. Cynthia, once again, brought her fingers to the man’s c**k, which was being stroked roughly up and down with animalistic force.
The bulging veins pulsing harshly along his length were vivid beneath her fingertips. As she slowly stroked from the middle of the shaft up to the tip, a thick, viscous fluid clung to her fingers.
Suddenly, a tightening sensation gripped Cynthia’s lower belly, and she grew anxious. Reflexively, she pressed her thighs together and tensed, a tingling feeling shooting up her spine.
I want it inside. I want to have it.
A strange urge welled up in her. Even though her fingertips had only touched him twice, his c**k seemed on the verge of o****m, the clear precum mixing with an ever-whitening fluid. Segleninde’s panting grew louder.
Then, with one arm, he pulled Cynthia’s shoulders close and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. Because their bodies were pressed tightly together, Cynthia could also smell him.
Surprisingly, rather than the thick scent of sweat, the musky odor of a man, or even the fluid steadily leaking from the tip of his c**k, Segleninde’s scent was a blend of fresh grass and flowers.
“You… smell good. You always have…”
Cynthia, who had been through so much that she should’ve smelled of sweat by now, found Segleninde instead greedily breathing in and savoring her scent, as if there was nothing in the world more fragrant, whispering to her in a half-hoarse voice.
When he lightly licked her sweat-dampened neck with his hot tongue, her shoulders flinched. He immediately pulled his head back, as if afraid she would notice how tightly his solid chest was pressed against her soft b*****s. That explained why her heartbeat had sounded so close—he had been struggling in his own way to get closer to her. Cynthia bit her lip and rolled her eyes up to look at his face.
Up close, his red, wine-colored eyes were melting tenderly. His blushing, angelic face wore a faint smile as he whispered, Let your lips touch mine.
As if hypnotized, Cynthia leaned in. Segleninde tilted his head, giving a faint chuckle as if expecting her to kiss his cheek again. But instead of his cheek, Cynthia gently pressed her lips to his.
Surprise widened his eyes.
“……”
Then they parted, only to come together again.
He pressed their soft, moist lips together, instantly sucking her in and tangling their tongues. Even though it felt like being devoured, the low moan Segleninde let out as he reached his climax filled Cynthia’s mouth completely, as if she were the one devouring him.
Neither of them knew how to kiss, so they simply tangled and rubbed their tongues together. That clumsy motion felt all the more sensual to both of them.
After a little while, Segleninde finally climaxed.
“Keugh…”
Thin s***n gushed out, soaking the grass and Cynthia’s pants. The viscous, milky-white fluid even gave off an oddly sweet and fragrant scent. It was as if honey, not s***n, had been spilled everywhere.
For a time, only their mingled breaths filled the silence, until finally, all grew still. The quiet chirping of insects echoed from behind the faint mist.
Segleninde was the first to swallow a breath. The feeling of their softest parts pressed together lingered like residual heat.
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