Sweet Ruin
Trickle.
"Lady Saintess. Will you be much longer?"
"...I'm coming out."
Serina wiped herself clean and rose from the toilet. She washed her hands and stepped out of the bathroom — and Lean, seated on the bed, snatched her by the wrist.
"Hero? What are you— eek!"
Dragged stumbling across the room and tossed onto the bed, Serina reflexively wrapped her arms around her chest and squeezed her knees together. It was a token attempt at resistance, nothing more; her thighs were pried apart with ease by Lean's hands, baring her sex to the open air.
"Hgh—!"
Lean brought his face close between her parted legs and sniffed. Her body shook with shame, yet she did not so much as attempt a real struggle. She had learned by now that such things were meaningless.
"Hero, I... I didn't wash there, so..."
"Why? Are you afraid I'll wrinkle my nose at the smell of your pussy, Lady Saintess?"
"...............Yes."
"No need to worry. It reaches me as unbearably sweet — sweet enough that I'd like to soak it thoroughly in my saliva, you know?"
"Anything but that... hnn."
Lean was a pervert beyond anything she had imagined. He buried his nose against her sex — flesh even she considered filthy — sniffed at it, and then began licking like a dog.
A beast drunk on lust would almost have been preferable. A man's desire, after all, was spent with his cock, not his tongue. But Lean was a man of restraint — and he knew, too, how to break a woman down with steady, patient persistence. A man like that would never refuse to sit back and calmly watch as Serina was stripped bare, layer by layer.
"Haah... H-Hero, that's eno— ahh!"
Lean parted his lips just enough to bite down on her clit.
"Hyaah!"
His tongue began to explore her pussy in earnest. Every movement of it, burrowing deep inside, drew out wet, obscene sounds, and it took less than a minute for her to be flushed hot with arousal.
Lean was a mischievous man, and he had made no secret of what he wanted: to leave the Saintess aching with need until she served him with the same fervent devotion as before. Not that she'd been given a choice. She had already offered, time and again, to pleasure him with her mouth — but Lean, judging her sincerity lacking, had simply kept on tormenting her. All evening his hands had roamed her body without once letting her tip over the edge, and with a body that couldn't even suppress its own excitement, mustering the will to shove him away was impossible.
"Puhaah. Lady Saintess. You do remember promising to tell me honestly when it feels good from now on, don't you?"
Having said exactly that much, Lean buried his face once more.
Serina felt the words itching at her lips. Three hours had passed since they'd tangled in the carriage, and still her body seemed drenched in the pleasure of that moment. That was why she wanted to say it — because if she did, he would surely satisfy her. Even that wish was soaked through with arousal.
Little by little, as his tongue grew bolder, her hips began to lift from the bed, and holding herself together became a struggle. Both her hands drifted upward to cover her face. It was a surrender to instinct, and she knew well enough that it was unwise; by now the heat of her cheeks, seeping through her palms, seemed to smolder all the way down into her core. Knowing full well that all of this was meant to drag her to the very bottom, her fevered body still tore her resistance to ribbons — and in a corner of her heart a wish took root: she wanted him to drive her to a sweet, shattering peak before all of this cooled away.
Serina could no longer control even her own legs. They drew together of their own accord, clamping around the Hero's head. He enjoyed it when she expressed herself that way — which was precisely why she did not want him to know how close she was to losing her grip on herself. But the fiercer his tongue grew, the more impossible it became to hold her rigid posture. Her stiffened body was nothing more than a sumptuous feast laid out before him, and Lean knew just how to partake of it with even greater relish.
Soon his right hand began to caress the region around her navel, fingers trailing down over her skin to linger on one spot, pressing in around it. She knew exactly what that meant. It was a warning.
Just as she expected, his tongue had already fallen still. Lean said nothing, only rolled his eyes up toward her, and Serina — peering down past her fingers at the hand roaming near her womb — found herself swallowing again and again. The silent pressure was far too heavy to simply brush past. At last, fingers bunched over her eyes, Serina whispered.
".........It feels good."
"I can't hear you."
It was naked coercion. Say it louder, or he would stop right there. For an instant she felt a throb pulse deep in her lower belly — proof that she had come to know pleasure as a woman.
She wanted this to go on. She wanted his tongue on her, more of it. If he would not grant her the peak, then at the very least she wished he would keep kneading her breasts as he sucked harder. She had come to crave his touch — any touch at all — wanting it, and wanting it again, until her thoughts tangled into a jumble. Something in her had gone wrong; she was sure of it.
And yet—
"I-It feels good! It feels so good when you use your mouth, Hero... ahh!"
It was impossible. As long as this once-ignited body stayed beyond her control, the thought that she could never settle back into ordinary life was nailed fast in her mind. Even so, she kept up her threadbare excuses. She wasn't falling. She wasn't addicted. This time, too, she was merely allowing herself a brief indulgence — savoring the pleasure while staying anchored in reality. She had been placed in a reality that permitted nothing else; Lean had steered her toward an outcome with no alternative. The fault was not hers. She would never truly become addicted — so if she simply tasted the pleasure now and woke up unscathed, there would be no problem at all. That was all. That was all there was to it.
For a long while her breasts were kneaded and her sex toyed with.
"Hheuk... haah..."
Toward the end he had covered her body with his own, biting and sucking at her breasts while rubbing his hardened cock against her belly. And still he would not finish. He would not violate her. Confusion piled upon confusion. Why on earth wouldn't he just do it? He was aroused. He had thought of nothing but devouring her from the very start.
Then the question that had been swelling inside her found its answer.
Ah... right. That was it.
Perhaps she had known all along. Her last scrap of pride had merely been straining to keep it hidden.
"Hero..."
She forced herself upright. Crawling across the bed, she slipped her arms around Lean's waist from behind, and the hand resting at his waistband slid lower, lower, until it arrived at the place she sought.
"...Do it to me..."
The soft weight in her palm had firmed, sometime along the way, into something hard and ready. It meant he could have her whenever he pleased.
"With this cock..."
She raised her arm for the last of it, hanging off his shoulder to press her body flush against his — crushing her breasts against him, doing everything she could to show him she meant it.
"P-please... violate me..."
The fellatio in the carriage had been a miracle — a gift of pure rapture. The moment he brought the woman who seemed like she would never bend to her knees, a pleasure bordering on ejaculation had crashed over him. If only one more word were added to it, Lean felt certain he could taste total conquest.
I love you, Hero.
Words he had yearned for even in his dreams. If only the Saintess loved him, he was confident he could do anything. Whatever she wanted, he would grant it; if she wished to be held, he meant to keep her in his embrace for the rest of her life. And if she craved the same pleasure they had found in the carriage, he was more than willing to serve her again and again. Even if it had begun as rape, once love was added to it, turning it into consensual lovemaking was only a matter of time.
And in this moment, the possibility that that dream might come true had grown thick and heavy.
"P-please... violate me..."
The Saintess had come to want him. It was the first time such a thing had happened, and Lean could not contain his joy. Just look at her — the gaze of that once-unshakable Saintess had changed. Hearts might as well be drawn in her eyes.
"If that is what you desire. If the Lady Saintess wishes it, then it was always yours to have, at any time."
Feigning his usual mild composure, he resolved to impose upon her one final trial. He lay back comfortably against the bed, then indicated his own chest with a glance — the meaning plain enough: climb on top of him yourself and burn with want however you please, until he felt the urge to violate her. It was an invitation to seduce the very man she was begging to take her.
Serina deliberated for a moment, then hesitated no longer. Moving on all fours like a cat, she climbed astride his hips. The feeling of that voluptuous rear — always so temptingly plump — sinking down onto him was beyond words. It was not the soft, shapeless flesh of ordinary women, but a place that answered with firm resilience every time he kneaded it. And when he watched her from the front, hips swinging as she walked, that rounded swell swaying with every step, it was truly like gazing upon a succubus. That a body radiating such carnal allure could belong to a Saintess seemed nothing short of absurd.
No — of course. The Goddess knows full well it is a body that beguiles men. That must be why she still grants her light, even now that her maidenhead is lost.
That Goddess had surely made her Saintess to be used in precisely this way. Otherwise, the notion of her abandoning a woman to circumstances like these would be laughable.
Either way, it made no difference to him.