The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

"Ridiculous?" Serelith offered, a faint, breathless giggle escaping her lips. "Yes, I quite agree."

Mikhailis leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe, his voice a hushed, hungry growl. "You're so… so tight…"

"Then take more… more… please…" Serelith whispered, her voice a trembling plea hidden beneath her calm, chatty tone. "But keep talking… please… keep her distracted…"

"Oh, and have you heard the rumors about Sir Hawke's new squire?" Serelith's voice remained light, her tone almost gossipy even as her inner walls clenched, fluttered, tightening around Mikhailis's length. Her cheeks burned with a deep, rosy blush, her breath a desperate, trembling gasp. "They say he's already a better swordsman than his master."

"Really?" Cerys raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's not exactly a high bar. Sir Hawke's the sort who thinks a sword's just for posing."

"Yes… posing…" Serelith's voice quivered, her fingers clawing at Mikhailis's sleeve, her thighs squeezing around his waist, pulling him deeper, each slow, deliberate thrust sending sweet, scorching heat flooding her senses.

"Didn't he try to challenge you once?" Serelith managed, her voice strained, yet perfectly casual. "In the training yard?"

"Oh, he did," Cerys smirked. "Lasted all of ten seconds before I had him eating dirt."

SLAP!

Serelith's muffled cry melted into a faint, breathless laugh. "And here I thought he had some pride left."

"Oh, he did. Right up until he saw my sword coming at his nose." Cerys grinned, oblivious to the faint, desperate gasps slipping from Serelith's lips, her hips rocking subtly, her slick warmth coating Mikhailis's length.

Mikhailis's lips brushed against Serelith's ear, a soft, teasing whisper. "You're so good at this… keeping calm… pretending…"

Her voice trembled, a sweet, desperate plea hidden beneath the calm mask. "I… I have to be… p-please… don't stop…"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he whispered, his hand slipping down, his fingers teasing, squeezing, driving her closer and closer to the sweet, maddening edge.

"Speaking of swordplay," Cerys continued, grinning. "Did I tell you about the time I caught young Lord Fenton trying to duel his reflection?"

"Oh, please tell me he lost," Serelith's voice wavered, a faint, desperate giggle spilling from her lips, even as her body trembled, her breath coming faster, her voice a sweet, desperate whisper hidden beneath the banter. "Please… please… more…"

"Oh, he did," Cerys laughed. "Tripped over his own cape and knocked himself out. Idiot didn't wake up for an hour."

Serelith's body quaked, her voice breaking in a faint, muffled gasp. "M-Mikhailis… please… please… I… I'm close…"

Mikhailis's hand tightened, his voice a low, hungry growl. "Then break for me… quietly…"

And she did, her body shuddering, her lips biting down on her own wrist to muffle her desperate, trembling cries. Yet even then, her voice managed a soft, trembling giggle. "And they say chivalry is dead…"

"Oh, it's very much alive," Cerys snorted, completely unaware. "You just have to beat it out of the idiots."

Serelith's voice trembled, but she tried to maintain a sense of calm, even as a wild, desperate heat surged through her. Her body tightened, quivering, her walls pulsing around Mikhailis, each slow, deep thrust driving her closer and closer to the edge. The pressure was unbearable, sweet and maddening, her entire being focused on the molten, throbbing heat buried deep within her.

Her violet eyes fluttered shut, her breathing growing faster, her chest heaving with each shuddering gasp. She could feel it—the slow, rhythmic build, the sweet, electric tension coiling tighter and tighter within her. Mikhailis's hand slipped to her waist, his fingers pressing, guiding her hips in a slow, grinding rhythm, and his lips brushed against her ear.

"Serelith…" he whispered, his voice a low, hungry growl, his breath hot against her flushed skin. "You're so… so perfect… so tight… so warm…"

Her voice broke, a sweet, breathless moan slipping free. "M-Mikhailis… please… I… I need…"

Serelith tried to speak, but her voice broke, muffled and desperate. "NNH… HNNH—! I-I… I can't… I can't stay quiet…"

"Oh, but you must," Mikhailis whispered, a wicked, teasing grin playing at his lips. He leaned closer, his tongue tracing the edge of her ear. "Unless you want our dear Cerys to hear."

The mention of Cerys sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through her, a wild, reckless thrill. "NNH—! N-Not so… not so rough… I-I'll… I'll scream…"

"Then do it," he whispered, his voice a daring, hungry growl. "Scream for me."

But instead, she bit harder against his palm, her muffled cries growing louder, her body tensing, clenching around him. Each thrust was a sweet, maddening agony, her body a wild, trembling mess in his hands.

SLAP! Another sharp smack against her rear, the sting sending a fresh wave of heat pooling between her thighs. Her muffled voice grew more frantic, her nails clawing at his forearms.

"M-MMMNH—! AAH—!" Her voice cracked, her restraint slipping. Her hips rocked, grinding against him, her slick warmth flooding, her inner walls pulsing, clenching, drawing him deeper.

"You're so… so tight," he groaned, his voice thick with barely-contained hunger. His lips found her neck, sucking, biting, leaving faint, heated marks against her pale, sweat-slicked skin.

Her legs quivered, her thighs squeezing around him, her body desperately clinging to his. "N-NO—! I… I can't… I… I'm going to… M-MIKHAILIS—!" Her muffled cry broke, a desperate, trembling wail smothered against his palm.

Her world shattered, pleasure crashing through her like a tidal wave. Her body tensed, her back arched, her inner walls clenching, milking him, desperate, greedy. The warmth, the heat, the slick, sweet ache—it all blurred together, a wild, dizzying storm.

Mikhailis's own restraint snapped. His grip tightened, his fingers sinking into the soft, supple flesh of her rear, his hips thrusting harder, faster, each deep, desperate motion sending fresh sparks of heat racing through her.

"Serelith…" he whispered, his voice a raw, breathless growl. "I… I'm… I can't—"

Serelith's pulse raced, a wild, desperate need thrumming through her veins. Her voice was a trembling, desperate whisper as she clung to Mikhailis, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist. "Please… please… give it to me… inside… I need… I need it…" she begged, her voice a sweet, trembling plea that barely held back her frantic, aching hunger.

And then it happened—his release crashed over him, a hot, thick pulse spilling deep inside her, filling her with a sweet, searing warmth. The sensation was everything she craved, a molten, burning heat flooding her core, spreading like wildfire through her body. It was the feeling she lived for—the ultimate surrender, the exquisite bliss of being filled, of being claimed completely.

This… This is it… This is what I was waiting for…

Her mind reeled, her thoughts a wild, chaotic blur. Nothing else mattered—no court politics, no whispered rumors, no pretenses. Only this—this scorching, intoxicating warmth surging deep inside her, marking her, branding her, a sweet, overwhelming proof of his desire. She tightened around him instinctively, her inner walls pulsing, clenching, desperate to keep every precious drop, to claim it, to make it hers.

Her lips found his, capturing him in a fierce, desperate kiss. MMNNH… SLRP… MNNH… SLRP… The wet, hungry sounds of their kiss filled the air, her muffled moans swallowed by his mouth. Her tongue danced with his, wild and frantic, tasting, devouring, her hands tangling in his dark curls, pulling him even closer. Each heartbeat thudded in her ears, her senses drowning in the sweet, electric storm of pleasure.

Her hips rocked, her body instinctively grinding against him, riding out the sweet, burning waves of pleasure, her breath a hot, desperate pant against his lips. His fingers tangled in her violet hair, tugging with a possessive, hungry need, and she welcomed the faint sting, the wild, primal rush of being at his mercy.

"Serelith…" he whispered against her lips, his voice a husky, breathless growl, thick with desire and lingering hunger. "You're… you're perfect…"

Her cheeks flushed, her heart soaring. "M-Mikhailis… please… don't stop… keep… keep holding me… stay inside… stay…"

"Always," he murmured, his lips trailing down her jaw, pressing soft, lingering kisses along her heated, flushed skin. "Always… my beautiful, mischievous mage…"

A faint, desperate whimper slipped from her lips, her body trembling, her thighs squeezing around his waist, as if fearing he might slip away. But he didn't. He stayed, his warmth filling her, his strong, comforting presence holding her close.

Slowly, the wild, feverish heat began to settle, melting into a soft, warm glow that left her feeling weightless, floating in a sweet, blissful daze. Her head rested against his shoulder, her breaths still fast, her chest rising and falling against his. Her fingers traced slow, lazy patterns along his back, her touch gentle, affectionate.

But even as her body relaxed, her mind remained alight with that sweet, heady warmth, the delicious ache that lingered deep within her. She could feel it—still there, that thick, molten heat pooling inside her, a sweet, searing reminder of his passion, his desire, his claim.

Her gaze drifted downward, her violet eyes catching the faint shimmer of white that slicked against her thighs, a subtle, glistening trail that marked her, painted her in his warmth. A faint, mischievous smile curled at her lips, a soft, breathless giggle slipping free.

"Oh, gods… I can feel it…" she whispered, her voice a sweet, shivering murmur. "So warm… so much…"

Mikhailis's fingers brushed against her cheek, his touch gentle, his smile warm. "All yours, Serelith… every drop…"

But then—a voice shattered the heated, breathless quiet.

"The both of you, stop it! Now!"