The Nymph Wants to be Plundered - Chapter 111

His lips boldly caught the delicate flesh of her inner thigh, teeth grazing with just enough pressure to make her gasp. For a moment, he considered biting harder—leaving marks—but the memory of how she shuddered when he licked her made him hold back. After all, she’d only just recovered. The thought of drawing even a hint of blood, of tasting her fear, didn’t sit right with him. Whether Evelyn was afraid of blood or not, he’d spare her that.

His head tilted further, and his tongue traced a slow, wet path from the top of her thigh down, like a stream flowing downward. A thick, humid heat rose from beneath her negligee, her body responding shamelessly. Her legs and hips jerked helplessly, but Cassis only relished it more. He wished she’d get angry—try to trap his head between those slender, powerless thighs. It would only make this sweeter.

“Nngh…!”

Evelyn knew exactly what was happening beneath her, yet she could do nothing. Her head fell back against the glass, breath coming in ragged gasps. The back of her skull pressed firmly against the cold window, a few strands of hair sticking to it with a faint static cling.

She felt like she was melting. No—maybe she already had, dripping like molten wax against the terrace window. Her hips lifted involuntarily, and she bit her trembling lips to keep from begging. I can’t take it anymore, just do something— She didn’t know whether surrender would bring relief or torment, but she had no choice but to give in.

His lips trailed back up along the path they had taken down her thigh. Evelyn’s lower belly quivered under the relentless, pounding proximity of his mouth, her back arching as she clenched her hips tight. His lips, no longer teasing, climbed steadily higher—lingering with torturous intent over the thin fabric shielding her slit—before finally catching the string of her panties between his teeth and tugging them carefully downward.

“Nn, ah… ha, aah….”

The illusion of being swept away by a deep river was no exaggeration—her lower half was already drenched. Her slickness stretched in glistening strands, mingling obscenely with the saliva glistening on his lips. Cassis smirked as the sticky sensation reached his tongue, his warm breath ghosting over her exposed folds. Of course, her legs jerked as if impaled, her hips writhing helplessly.

“Ah! Ngh… hnn…!”

Pressed harder against the window, her back arched taut. He carelessly gathered the negligee obstructing his view, bunching the fabric in his fist and rolling it up like discarded paper. The crumpled lace now pressed flush against her waist, an incidental tool of torment.

His hands moved with a dark, mesmerizing precision. Though the negligee still clung to her body, the way he gathered and dragged it along her skin transformed it into an instrument of pleasure. Her stomach clenched, more arousal dripping down her thighs, until Evelyn finally snatched the bundled lace from his grip, her lips trembling.

“D-don’t… ah…!”

But now she was the one holding the fabric up, baring herself completely to him. Cassis buried his face deeper, his mouth sealing over her slick cleft, sucking greedily.

The sensation of his tongue flicking against her relentlessly dripping core was maddening. Soft, slick—yet utterly unbearable. He wasn’t even curling his fingers inside her, just that wicked tongue, and still, her hips twisted wildly against the window. Until—

Thud.

The window frame rattled from the force.

“Hmm?”

Laocon, who had been engrossed in conversation outside, felt a faint vibration and turned his head.

This was the direction of the king’s intimate bedchamber, deep within the Hall of Glory. The inner structure of this place was altered whenever a new king ascended the throne or when significant events occurred. However, Cassis had not changed a single thing since donning the crown. Ah… Though, in the early days when the nymph Evelyn first arrived, he had considered clearing out one of the inner halls but abandoned the idea midway. Naturally, no one asked why.

Laocon pretended to watch a buzzing honeybee nearby as he pondered.

‘Hmm… No need to bring this up to outsiders unnecessarily.’

Just then, Iel—who knew the layout of this place as well as Laocon—spoke up.

“Let’s move elsewhere. Being so close to the Hall of Glory makes me reluctant to speak freely here.”

“Yes, let’s.”

“…Anyway, what I meant was…”

‘Haah… haah…’

“Evelyn?”

His voice dropped lower as he blatantly listened to the sound of the knights leaving behind her. Evelyn couldn’t even lift a hand to stifle the moans spilling from her lips, her fingers only tightening around the negligee he had crumpled and handed to her, crushing it hopelessly.

“Nngh, hng…!”

“You can scream as much as you want. No one will hear.”

As soon as he finished speaking, his tongue pushed past her quivering entrance, sliding wetly along her inner walls, delving deep. At the same time, he pressed his face firmly against her dripping slit, and what little remained of her patience unraveled, vanishing like a thread pulled taut from her curling toes. She could no longer feel the soft fabric of the negligee tangled at her waist, now slipping loose—she could only take it, helpless.