Chapter 141. The Thawing of Rimeyer (4)
'Huh? I was talking about her chest...?'
Lucian's eyes widened in shock.
This rigid, virginal Knight Commander, who knew nothing of male arousal mechanisms, had completely misunderstood.
After telling him to 'touch my body' to help with his excitement, she had spread her legs—not offering her chest, but revealing her most intimate parts instead.
As if the earlier slap had never happened,
Rimeyer held Lucian's cock in one hand while spreading her legs wide open—the sheer dissonance between her innocence and this brazen display creating a shockingly erotic sight.
Lucian froze mid-reach, staring dumbfounded beneath the water's surface.
Between her snow-white thighs, parted beneath the clear hot spring, her glistening silver pubic hair framed the defenselessly exposed virgin pussy—still flushed and swollen from the pleasure his tongue had left behind mere moments ago.
The last thread of Lucian's rationality was about to snap once more.
Not wanting to waste this opportunity, he plunged his large, heated hand straight between the legs she had so willingly opened for him.
Sluurp—
"Hngh...!"
Lucian's palm pressed firmly over Rimeyer's sex through the water.
The moment his body heat met her oversensitive folds—already ravaged by his tongue—her shoulders jerked violently, her entire body flinching.
Back then, within the frozen barrier atop the life-threatening blizzard of the mountains,
Lucian had touched her there too—to melt Rimeyer's frozen body. But back then, desperation for survival and the bone-deep cold had dominated their reason.
Now was different.
Here, submerged in scalding hot spring water, facing each other completely naked.
This contact, driven purely by pleasure and lust, was incomparable—an overwhelming wave of arousal crashing over them both.
To preserve Rimeyer's noble virginity, Lucian didn't push his fingers inside her. Instead, his long, thick digits relentlessly teased the exposed pleasure points.
His index and middle fingers parted her swollen outer lips, while his thumb pressed firmly against the stiff little bud hidden between them.
"Ahh...!"
Squelch. Squish.
As Lucian's thumb began circling and rubbing her clit underwater, Rimeyer's chin jerked upward.
"Lu—Lucian...! Nngh..."
"Rimeyer, your hands shouldn't stay idle either."
At his low, husky voice, Rimeyer's dazed hands began moving again.
Her fingers tightened around his thick shaft, stroking up and down.
Schlick! Schlick! Slap! Slap!
Squelch! Squelch! Splash! Splash!
"Ah—ahh, ah, ahh!"
The rough friction of Rimeyer's hands working his cock.
The wet sounds of Lucian's fingers rubbing her clit and inner lips.
Rimeyer's stifled, breathy moans—now spilling freely into the air.
Their hands moved in perfect, off-beat rhythm beneath the water's surface, shattering the forest's quiet evening with lewd, sloshing echoes.
'What... what am I even doing...?'
Rimeyer felt her mind melting into white-hot static.
At first, it had been duty—a sense of obligation to "treat" Lucian's unbearable condition.
But his skilled fingers, teasing her most private place, were mercilessly shattering a lifetime of discipline and self-control as the Knight Commander.
"Ahh! Nngh! Ah! Aah!"
Every flick of Lucian's thumb, every stroke along her drenched folds, tore another wanton cry from Rimeyer's lips—moans she could no longer suppress.
And the moment her sharp, unrestrained voice hit the air, Lucian's lust burned even fiercer.
To him, sex without a woman's heated cries was only half the pleasure.
Rimeyer was no different. Never in her life had she imagined she could make such shameless, slutty noises—yet, ironically, her own lewd cries were dragging her deeper into pleasure's abyss.
When their eyes briefly met, she turned her head away in shame—but her pleasure-drunk body arched like a drawn bow, hips grinding instinctively against his palm.
"Rimeyer, you're burning up inside. So much slickness pouring out..."
"Nngh—! D-Don't say such... ahhhn!"
Lucian's teasing whisper as he felt her sticky arousal coating his fingers made Rimeyer glare at him with tearful eyes.
Yet her hands, too, moved in sync with her pleasure—squeezing and stroking his cock harder, faster.
Tight, schlick! Tight, schlick! Tight, schlick!
"Hnnggh...!"
As Rimeyer neared her peak, her grip unconsciously tightened—making Lucian grit his teeth at the sudden, sharp pleasure.
The contrast between her warrior's hands and her virginal reactions was driving him to the brink.
"Hah... hah... Rimeyer... I'm at my limit."
Lucian's voice cracked.
His thumb rubbed her swollen clit in rapid, rough circles.
Squelch! Squish! Squish! Squish!
"Ah! Aah! Nngh! Lucian...! I—I'm—! Ahh! No...! Ah, ahhh!"
Rimeyer's legs stiffened underwater, her entire body seizing in violent spasms—a lightning bolt of orgasm tearing through her.
Her pale hands clutched his cock as if trying to crush it.
"Let's finish together...!"
Unable to resist any longer, Lucian gave in to temptation—grabbing one of her full breasts roughly, squeezing it until it threatened to burst.
And at last, his long-suppressed release erupted.
Splurt! Sploosh—! Splurt! Splurt!
"Ahhhn! Aaahhh—!!"
Underwater, Lucian's hot, thick cum shot out violently, dissolving into the spring in milky streaks.
At the same time, Rimeyer's pussy—completely conquered by his fingers—gushed uncontrollably.
Her clenched entrance spasmed open, spilling sweet, scalding arousal all over Lucian's palm before dispersing into the water.
Their bodies trembled violently in unison, sending ripples across the spring's surface.
"Hah... hah..."
"Nnngh..."
In the aftermath of their climaxes,
Rimeyer tried to stand—only for her legs to give out, nearly sending her slipping underwater. Lucian quickly caught her waist, holding her steady.
Rising from the water, Lucian's naked body was now clean, washed by the spring.
But between Rimeyer's flushed, trembling thighs, the evidence of their pleasure remained—sticky and lewd.
Lucian cupped water in his hands, gently washing her swollen folds.
The rough, beastly fingers that had ravaged her were now tender—treating her like fragile glass.
Rimeyer gazed down at the back of Lucian's head as he tended to her, her fingers softly combing through his wet hair.
Comrades who had crossed the line.
Between them now hung an awkward, sweet tension—something irreversible.
The hot spring, under the late-night sky, was filled with the humid aftermath of desire—marking the point of no return.
The next morning.
An odd, heavy silence hung over the simple camp breakfast.
Only the crackling campfire sounded unnaturally loud—none of the usual sharp bickering between the two women.
"Mmm~ Forest soup is always so bland, isn't it? Don't you agree, Knight Commander?"
Violetta stirred her soup lazily, tossing the words out like bait.
Normally, Rimeyer would've snapped back with something like, "If your palate is so delicate, you'll just grow unnecessary fat."
But.
"......"
Rimeyer kept her head bowed, only clinking her spoon quietly against the bowl—no retort, no response.
Her silver hair, neatly tied up with a towel, exposed the nape of her neck—flushed pink despite the chilly morning air. She couldn't even lift her gaze, let alone look at Lucian sitting across from her.
'I... I did such shameless things with Lucian...'
She bit her lip hard. Honest by nature, she couldn't maintain her usual cold, composed Knight Commander facade.
Violetta's eyes narrowed.
"Ah, hm. I'm done eating. I'll go saddle the horses. We should prepare to depart soon."
Lucian hurriedly set down his empty bowl and stood.
"Lucian."
Violetta propped her chin on her hand, calling him in a lazy drawl.
He froze mid-step.
"Really now... if you were going to make things this awkward in the morning, you shouldn't have touched her in the first place."
"W-What nonsense! No time for jokes. Let's pack up and move out!"
Lucian all but fled toward the forest path.
Violetta burst into laughter at his retreating back, while Rimeyer covered her burning face with both hands, utterly mortified.
Kara and the soldiers could only watch, completely lost.
After the rowdy, embarrassing breakfast,
The party mounted their horses—each burying last night's sticky incident deep in their hearts.
Clop, clop.
The sound of hooves cut through the crisp morning forest.
Lucian led at the front, with Rimeyer, Violetta, Kara, and the elite soldiers following behind.
'Belial. I will cut off your head.'
Lucian's grip on the reins tightened, eyes blazing.
At this pace, they would soon reach the forested border of his homeland—the Eckhart Fief—where the dark mage's hideout was suspected to be.
Toward the final battle awaiting them, they rode without hesitation.
[Images: 1139-1147]