Lewd Courtship - Chapter 42

“Hah…! Nn—ah…! Haaah…!”

A sound like a dying animal’s whimper escaped her lips. Yet Rachel clung to the bars, her knuckles bleaching white under the strain, holding her weight up even as her legs shook.

Killian observed Rachel with fascination. He found her resilience wavering yet unbroken even in the throes of pleasure—unexpectedly appealing. No, more than that: it pleased him.

A faint smirk curled his lips as he shifted his hips. Pressing two fingers flush against her upper wall, he drove relentlessly into the space below. Rachel, who had gone slack moments earlier, jolted upright, arching to meet each thrust.

“Ah! Aahn! Haah…! Ah, ah—!”

Flesh collided with flesh, the sound of taut inner walls yielding filling the room. Her moans twisted into something between a sob and a scream, torn between overwhelm and ecstasy.

Every part of her—from the overfilled depths to the raised curve of her hips, down to the vertebrae vibrating with each movement—felt reshaped by him.

Was this what he meant by “ruin”? Her mind, blank as white paper, seemed to fracture under the sensation. It was too much—yet Rachel craved it. She’d long since become someone who cared only for the peak, no matter the means. More, she thought. Anything, as long as it’s more.

“Ah… just…”

The words a little more etched themselves into her bleached-out consciousness, floating hazily before spilling from her lips:

“Ah! Hahh…! Your Majesty, ah! P-please… more…!”

Killian’s brow furrowed. His gaze trailed from Rachel’s trembling back—teetering on collapse—to where their bodies joined. Her entrance was already stretched to its limit, stuffed with fingers and c**k. Every slight movement drew another gush of slickness; her overstimulated walls clenched weakly around him, as if begging for respite.

He’d wondered how far she could endure, but this seemed her breaking point.

She had seemed ready to cry out to the gods—yet here she was, begging for more. Killian’s pride prickled inexplicably.

Fine. If that was how she’d play it, he’d make sure she screamed his name today. Not in prayer, but in tears, her voice breaking as she sobbed it.

Driven by a ruthless impulse, Killian studied their joining. Above her stretched, glistening entrance, another tight furl of muscle caught his eye—glistening with spilled wetness, tempting as an invitation.

Like a child discovering a new toy, he traced it with slow, deliberate fingers. He teased the wrinkled skin, pressing lightly until the ring fluttered, reflexively sucking at his touch. Then, with a smirk, he pushed the tip of his thumb inside.

Her inner walls clenched instantly, hips jerking. A choked gasp escaped her, half sob, half moan.

“Ah! Ah—! Hhng… Ah…!”

She tensed—yet her grip on the bars tightened, as if anticipating what came next. Killian’s lips curled as he worked the rest of his thumb in. The snug heat there was smoother than her c**t but no less greedy, rippling around him.

He dragged his thumbpad in slow circles, savoring the way her flesh yielded. Then he pressed deeper—and felt it. The subtle shift of his other fingers moving inside her parallel, the echo of his c**k’s thrusts vibrating through the thin divide.

“Ah! Haah—! Ah! There— Ah…!”

When he crooked his thumb, gripping that inner wall, Rachel convulsed. Her back arched, thighs shaking as her walls spasmed around him.

Rachel instinctively reached back, bracing against the overwhelming sensation. Killian swatted her arm away, gripping her hips with one hand to hold her firmly in place—no escape—as he quickened his pace.

He dragged his length along her entrance, then seized the inner ridge with deliberate force. Her walls clenched tight around him, dragging against the crown until it throbbed.

Rachel lost count of how many times she’d peaked. As her contractions pulsed, Killian buried himself to the hilt. With a groan, his release spilled hot against her cervix.

“Hah—ah! Ah… ahhh—!”

A faint, shuddering cry escaped her as she melted into the aftershocks. Killian, too, caught his breath, hips twitching lazily. His softened c**k smeared their mingled fluids—thick white streaks blending with her slickness—as he withdrew.

“Haah…”

Once his breathing steadied, Killian slowly pulled his fingers free. Her a*s trembled, releasing his thumb, while glistening index and middle fingers emerged, glazed with their combined wetness.

Her entrance fluttered, struggling to return to its original shape. Though the gap gradually narrowed, the swollen flesh between her thighs remained parted, quivering where his c**k had stretched her to the limit.

“…Too much?”

Killian studied Rachel—gripping the bars, her breaths ragged. This was the woman who’d slapped him after their first night. The one who’d stood straight-backed and dressed without a word yesterday. Now she hung limp in his arms, silent. It unsettled him.

He thought he should pull out and take care of her.
Just as he started to draw his hips back, a sudden thought struck him.

Could it be… she doesn’t even know my name?
Maybe she’d been in so much pain she couldn’t call it—because she didn’t actually know it.

Sounds plausible.

It really did.
The Emperor’s name was strictly forbidden to speak, so unless she’d made a point to learn it, she might not know.

Feeling oddly unsettled, Killian hurriedly called to her.

“Princess.”

“…Uuh.”

“Come to your senses. Is your body all right?”

“Ah… yes, Your Majesty.”

Relieved by her answer, Killian still couldn’t completely shake off his worry.
He carefully asked,

“By any chance… do you know my name?”

Rachel turned her head back to look at him.
Her green eyes, still glazed in lingering pleasure, were unfocused.

She gazed at Killian with those eyes.
Of course she knew the Emperor’s name.
But now was hardly the time to speak it aloud.

Rachel simply wished this moment would never end.

“…I know. But I’d rather not.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to stop.”

Her voice was slightly hoarse as she conveyed her intent.
Hearing that, Killian unwittingly showed a slightly awkward expression.

He stayed still for a moment, then became aware of his lower body swelling again, and let out a short laugh.
His impulsive desire had already cooled—yet he suddenly wanted to bury himself inside her again.

“You really are… remarkable.”

“So, do you dislike that?”

Rachel’s lips jutted out in a sulk.
The lips he had bitten and sucked on earlier were now red and swollen.

Killian fixed his gaze on them, then slowly moved his hips.

When Rachel’s expression twisted beautifully in response, he drove himself sharply into her slick entrance.

Feeling her inner walls purely, without the haze of earlier impulses, was strangely refreshing.

Thrusting rapidly back and forth, Killian smacked her b******s.
Startled, her inner walls clenched tightly around him, and his breathing grew steadily more ragged.