The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

"Nnh… mmm… slrp… mmmhh…" Serelith moaned against his mouth, her voice breaking into soft, desperate whimpers. Her hips shifted against him, a slow, instinctive grind that sent a fresh wave of heat through his core.

But then, just as he began to lose himself, the faint chime of a magical alarm echoed through the chamber. The sound was like a splash of cold water, and his focus snapped back. His eyes darted to his palm, and there—steady and strong—the green light burned bright, a pure emerald glow, untouched by the mist.

The spell had succeeded.

But Serelith's lips still pressed against his, her breath hot, her body trembling against him. He pulled back slightly, panting, their lips brushing with each shaky breath.

"Serelith… we… we did it…" he managed, his voice a strained whisper.

She blinked, her gaze focusing, and a slow, breathless smile curved her lips. "Finally… well done, Your Highness…"

Her voice was warm with pride, but there was something else beneath it—a faint quiver, a hidden tremor of emotion. Her violet eyes shimmered, a hint of longing, of something deeper.

Mikhailis's chest tightened. "It's because you teach me well," he said, forcing a lightness into his voice. "But you haven't given me any water yet."

Her smile curved, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I don't have water… but I do have some wine."

Before he could respond, she leaned back, reaching for a slender crystal decanter on the nearby table. With a deft twist, she uncorked it, the cork releasing with a soft pop. Ruby-red liquid swirled within the glass as she poured it, the rich scent of berries and spices filling the air. She didn't offer it to him. Instead, she took a slow, deliberate sip, her lips staining a soft, lush red.

Then, without a word, she leaned forward, her lips hovering inches from his. Her breath, warm and sweet, washed over his mouth. "Open," she whispered, her voice a sultry, silken command.

Mikhailis's lips parted, and she pressed her lips against his, her tongue slipping between his teeth. The wine poured from her mouth into his, warm and sweet, a tantalizing blend of flavors that mingled with the heat of her breath. His tongue met hers, swirling, tasting the heady sweetness as the wine pooled between them.

"Mmm… slrp…" Their tongues danced, a heated, sensual tangle that left them both breathless. Serelith's soft moans blended with his own ragged breaths, her fingers curling in his dark hair, pulling him closer, pressing her chest against him. Her slender, soft form melted against his, and he felt the firm, warm pressure of her body pressing into his lap.

The green light in his palm wavered, flickered, and he gritted his teeth, forcing his focus back. The Mist Mana lurked at the edges, a cold, coiling threat, but he fought it back, the emerald glow brightening once more.

But Serelith's touch was a fire, her kisses a sweet, intoxicating poison. Each time their lips met, each time her tongue slid against his, the ache in his chest grew stronger. His pulse raced, a burning heat blooming beneath his skin.

Her lips trailed to his jaw, her tongue tracing the curve of his cheek, leaving a faint, shimmering trail of red wine. Her breath was hot against his ear. "Mnn… you taste so… so good…" she whispered, her voice trembling with need. "I can't… I can't get enough…"

She leaned in again, her mouth claiming his in another fierce, desperate kiss. Her tongue danced with his, wet and eager, and his hands slid to her waist, gripping her, pulling her even closer. Her hips shifted against his, grinding softly, a sweet, maddening pressure that sent shivers racing down his spine.

"Mmn… slrp… mmmh…" The wet, hungry sounds of their kiss filled the room, mingling with their ragged, heated breaths. Her soft, muffled whimpers sent lightning bolts of desire straight to his core, and he struggled to maintain his focus, the green light in his palm flickering like a candle in a storm.

But then her lips moved again, trailing down his neck, leaving a warm, tingling path. Her teeth grazed his skin, a soft, teasing bite that made him gasp. "Mnn…" she hummed against his throat, her tongue tracing the faint mark her teeth had left. "You're so… so warm…"

Mikhailis's fingers tightened on her waist, his breath coming faster. "Serelith… you're making this… impossible…"

Her soft, breathy laugh ghosted over his skin. "Oh? But you're doing so well… so well…" Her tongue flicked against his collarbone, her hands slipping beneath his robe, tracing slow, lazy circles over his chest. "Keep that light steady, darling. Don't lose it…"

He clenched his jaw, his focus a fragile, trembling thread. The green light danced, shimmered, fought against the encroaching mist, but it held. Barely.

Serelith's lips found his again, another kiss, her tongue swirling with his, tasting, exploring. Her moans grew softer, breathier, a sweet, desperate sound that sent waves of heat surging through him.

"Mnn… slrp… mmmhh…" Her hips rocked against his, a slow, instinctive grind, and he felt the hard, undeniable pressure against her warmth. Her body pressed closer, her chest flattening against his, her fingers tangling in his hair.

His hands moved on their own, sliding along her back, feeling the soft, smooth fabric of her robe. But as her kiss deepened, her tongue swirling with his, he realized something—the warmth of her skin, the soft press of her body—it felt more direct, more bare.

His fingers traced lower, brushing against her thigh, and his breath caught. Skin. Soft, warm, bare skin.

His eyes widened. At some point—he didn't know when, he didn't know how—her robe had slipped, fallen away from her shoulders, pooled around her waist. The silken fabric had bunched around her hips, leaving her chest bare, her soft, pale skin pressing against his.

"Serelith…" he breathed, but she didn't answer. Her lips claimed his again, hungrier, her tongue pressing deep, her breath hot and desperate. Her hips rocked against him, a slow, aching grind that made his pulse race.

His own robe had slipped, his chest bare, and the realization struck him—he was as exposed as she was, his body pressing against hers, heat meeting heat.

When did this happen? How did this happen?

But all thoughts vanished as her lips trailed lower, her mouth tracing a slow, burning path down his chest. Her tongue swirled around his nipple, a sharp, sweet sting of her teeth sending a shudder through him. Her fingers slid lower, tracing the lean lines of his abdomen, and his breath caught.

"Serelith… we should… I can't…" he gasped, but her lips silenced him, her tongue pressing between his teeth, her body pressing harder against his.

"Mnn… focus, Your Highness," she whispered, her voice a trembling, desperate plea. "Show me… you can keep that light… even now…"

Her challenge was sweet poison, and he tried—tried to focus, tried to maintain the green light in his palm, but his vision blurred, his senses drowned in the heat of her touch, the sweet, intoxicating taste of her kiss.

Her hand slid lower, her fingers wrapping around the undeniable, aching heat between them. A soft, needy moan escaped her, her hips grinding against his, her lips finding his again, devouring him.

"Mnn… slrp… mmmhh…" Wet, desperate, hungry.

The green light trembled, wavered. His breath came faster, his pulse pounding, his mind a fevered haze of heat and longing.

But then, through the whirlwind of heat, through the desperate, breathless kiss, he forced himself—forced his focus, forced the green light to flare, to shine, to burn bright and pure. The mist recoiled, scattered, banished.

"Haah…" he gasped, his lips parting from hers, his chest heaving. The green light blazed, steady and strong, a pure, emerald glow.

Serelith's eyes widened, her lips parted, her breath a soft, trembling gasp. "You… you did it…" she whispered, her voice filled with awe, with hunger, with something more.

"Yes…" he breathed, his voice low, thick with desire. "And you… you've been waiting for this, haven't you?"

Her eyes met his, a faint, guilty smile playing at her lips. "Maybe… maybe I have…"

Mikhailis's chest tightened, his pulse a relentless thrum in his ears. Serelith's violet eyes sparkled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger, her flushed cheeks framed by the wild cascade of her purple hair. She leaned forward again, her lips seeking his, and he met her halfway, their mouths crashing together with a desperate, heated fervor.

Their tongues entwined, a wet, heated dance, tasting, exploring, devouring.

"Mmm… slrp… mmmhh…" Serelith moaned, her voice muffled against his mouth, her breath sweet and ragged. Her fingers tightened in his dark hair, pulling him closer, her chest pressing against his, the soft, silken warmth of her bare skin melding with his.

Mikhailis's hands slid down, finding her waist, then lower. His fingers grasped the soft, warm curves of her rear, squeezing, and she gasped against his lips, her hips pressing down harder against his lap. The hard, undeniable pressure of his arousal slipped between her thighs, rubbing against her soaked, heated core.

Mikhailis's chest rose and fell, his breaths still ragged, his lips tingling with the lingering heat of Serelith's kiss. Her smile was there, but her eyes—those deep, shimmering violet pools—told a different story. A shadow of something unspoken flickered behind them, a fragile vulnerability hidden beneath the playful, mischievous mask she wore so well.

"Finally… well done, Your Highness…"