The Saintess Could No Longer Hide
After several minutes of working his cock with her mouth, Lean's reactions had climbed into open arousal. With one hand cupping the head of his shaft, she could predict exactly how it would answer her.
Sure enough, the veins along his length surged, and the moment his cock gave a violent jerk she parted her lips wide and dipped her head swiftly down. She swallowed half of him once more and set her tongue moving, quick and diligent. This time she could taste it — the faint brine of precum seeping onto the tip of her tongue. Bracing for what would come next, she gripped his thighs hard and locked herself in place.
"Mmph!"
Just as she had anticipated, he seized her head and slammed it straight down. His cock sank in so deep it pressed past her uvula, choking off her breath. And still, she had long since grown used to Lean's rough hands.
"Hngh, mmph. Shlp, chup."
Each time the cock speared her depths she let a short moan slip free — and beyond that, she worked her tongue hard, sucking him with everything she had, brimming with the plea for him to take whatever he wanted, and quickly.
"Hnn. If this is what you needed, you should have said so from the start. I've told you time and again that I'm not so heartless. Had you spoken up a little sooner, you needn't have waited so desperately, Saintess."
Serina felt joy bloom and spread through her chest. Lean had finally, unmistakably, noticed the wordless request she had made again and again. He must have read the way she rubbed her thighs together and rocked her hips for exactly what it was — a bitch in heat, begging for release.
Before long, the hand that had been caressing her ass slowly spread her cheeks apart, and her arousal thickened in an instant.
This is what I've been waiting for.
Not merely pushed toward the brink — she had yearned desperately for him to stir her insides while she drowned, utterly intoxicated. That wish had been granted, and it showed through her body, more honest than it had ever been. Her ass writhed with such force that it kept trying to shift the fingers pressing at her walls. And as though he understood her perfectly, Lean — who had been picking out the spots she wanted and tapping them gently — bore down hard on her clit and began to wreck her from the inside.
Squelch, squelch. As if answering that sound, she jolted again and again, jerked her head up, and hastily spat his cock free.
"Haahng! Aahh...!"
Serina had no intention of holding back her moans any longer. No — the very idea that she should had been wiped away without a trace. The shame born of knowing the man who held her reins would hear her; the knowledge that this was precisely what Lean had wanted all along — her writhing outdoors, in heat like some bitch, screaming nothing but cries of pleasure; even her certainty that if this kept up she would truly come undone. All of it dissolved, meaningless, before a single possibility.
Because this time, she really felt like she might come.
That was all. That was the whole of it — natural enough, given how much lust had been pent up inside her. And she, bared utterly to the sensation of climax for the first time in ages, had not the least preparation for the wave about to break over her.
A fevered moan spilled out as her back bowed, and her own hands flew up to clutch her breasts. She filled her palms with the soft flesh as though to maul it, raking her nails across her nipples, pressing down hard. As if only that pain could let her endure what was surging up from below.
It's coming. Coming. Com—
"Aaah, hnnaahh!"
Splurt. At the feel of a hot, drenching stream bursting from her, her mind went blindingly white.
An empty space with nothing left inside it. And what filled that emptiness was pleasure, and a sense of fulfillment to match.
Serina slumped flat, boneless, feeling the tremors still rolling through her sprawled hips as she stared blankly ahead.
"Haa... haa..."
Her mind had gone hazy. It felt as though her own hot breath had fogged her eyes, because the only thing her blurred vision could catch was Lean's hands swaying at either side of her.
"I never dreamed the Saintess would be so fond of my hands."
Lean's voice, dripping with satisfaction, wormed into her ears — but she lacked even the strength to move her lips.
"Though I must say, I am terribly fond of your mouth in return."
So when the world flipped upside down, Serina bitterly regretted what she had done. This man was not one to spend his time solely on her satisfaction.
With both hands locking her head in place, Lean drove his hips up and began plunging his cock into her.
"Ugh, mmph."
With no strength left to meet the cock stabbing at her throat with her tongue, Serina stayed lost in the afterglow of her climax even as her mouth was ruthlessly violated. Minutes later, when a thick flood of semen finally spilled down her throat — even then. When he went on stirring through her mouth regardless, rubbing his cock against every corner of it as if determined to make her clean him despite her unmoving tongue — even then. Even when the glans pressed against her all but sealed lips, lingering there with an unmistakable purpose — she simply lay still and breathed.
Her lips gave way with a soft, wet pop.
So that kiss was what her body had wanted — and her mind had surrendered to it. Everything she was as a woman had crumbled before her lust. She ought to have hated this wretched reality enough to want to die.
"You did beautifully, Saintess. For the first time, it feels as though our hearts were truly in accord — I couldn't be more pleased. I may look forward to more of this, yes?"
Picturing the future Lean spoke of, Serina even caught herself thinking that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Every time she felt his hands caressing her body, shivers ran down her spine, her limp form trembling faintly, trying to writhe against him. Perhaps the aftermath of her first release as a woman weighed heavier than even the climax itself — there was no room left in her head for anything so grand as depravity.
She had reached her limit. That, at least, was how Serina judged it. But even a little would do. She wanted more of whatever felt good.
"Hah—!"
He had merely slipped an arm around her to help her up, and still her body answered with arousal. Her ragged breathing — from the moment they left the carriage until they stepped into the inn room — could be chalked up to the aftermath of her climax. But every time his hand brushed her skin, a cry laced with sudden heat tumbled out of her, laying her condition utterly bare.
Lean hid his smirk where she couldn't see. It had become unmistakable: the Saintess could no longer hide her excitement.
"Saintess. Are you quite all right?"
"……"
No answer came from her half-parted lips.
"Let me lay you down first."
As he settled her onto the bed, he took the chance to idly fondle her breast.
"Hnnh."
"You must be worn through with fatigue. Rest easy. I will take it upon myself to unwind you."
Straddling her, he drew her habit down below her shoulders. The moment he seized her breasts in both hands, something lewd began to seep into her breathing.
"Ah... haah..."
A restless urgency stirred in Lean at the softness spilling over his fingertips. Simply watching her as he touched her was enough to make his seed well up, slow and hot. And small wonder — he was kneading his fill of breasts so generous a single hand couldn't hope to hold even one of them.
He might have counted even this a rare privilege, but they were baby-soft to the touch and beautifully shaped besides. And these breasts belonged not to just any woman, but to the Saintess herself. What man alive could stand by and merely watch?
"Saintess? How is it — does it feel good?"
Still no answer.
Lean was not disappointed. Hers was a face that could wring men's hearts dry just by standing quietly in place. With a woman like that beneath him, his to play with as he pleased, there was no need for impatience.
What he wanted was not rape, but mating. Unless the Saintess truly yearned to bear new life, no such thing would come to pass. That was why he had trained in a peculiar sacred art. At first he'd seen little use for it — but applying it in the field had changed his mind. With nothing more than physical contact, it drove a woman to desperate, maddened want.
Lean had to conclude that heaven's fortune smiled on him. To think that merely stoking her lust could back the Goddess's own child into a corner this deep. He couldn't say which god had watched over it, but the faithful of the light had certainly turned out some useful research.
If this went on, her fall was only a matter of time. Women broken far worse than the Saintess was now had come begging for his cock in barely two days.
"Saintess. Do you not need my help?"
"I'm...... fine."
Again, he was not disappointed. If anything, he was quietly impressed.
As expected of the Saintess, I suppose? She holds out a long while.
Lean settled in to wait. Time was on his side regardless. However long it took, a Saintess broken completely would never make it back to the Order. And a woman ruled by lust would never, ever defy him.