Ch233: Welcome to Vratsa ♥

As with the last ♥ chapter, the lewds are not the main focus of this chapter. But they do still have a bit of a presence, mostly in the beginning, so it just barely counts.

Oral Sex/Cunnilingus, Kissing, Lipstick Marks, Nipple Sucking.

A rather happy hum reverberates through Rina’s beautiful body, her bare breasts steadily rising and falling with each heavy breath that she takes. “My... Am I ever so glad that you accepted this offer of mine~...” The Countess tenderly coos. “Your services as my escort are superb and... sublime~... Well worth the gold I spent, and will continue to spend~...”

Those softly spoken words so nearly fall on deaf ears, their playful double meaning completely missed.

Not because this Drakling is distracted – though she kind of is – but more due to the pair of pleasantly plush, pink-skinned thighs that have wrapped themselves around her head, holding her in place.

“Mhhh~...!” A quiet thump follows that shameless moan, Rina’s own head rolling back to rest against the padded backrest of this couch bench. “You spoil me, Krvavy~...!” She breathlessly gasps, shuddering just a little more intensely, her delicate fingers gliding through loose crimson locks. “That tongue of yours~...! It is~...! Hhha~! Truly amazing~...!”

Those soft and squishy thighs squeeze down over Krvavy’s slightly pointed ears, briefly blanking out all sounds beyond the beat of that barbarian’s heart. But, shaky as they are, those elegant legs can’t constantly smother her, loosening and tightening their grip again and again... following the same quivering, clenching motions of the Countess’ tight, trembling love tunnel.

“HHA~! YES~!” Ecstasy overcomes this noblewoman’s commendable composure, her hips bucking forward as Krvavy’s thick and inhumanly long tongue continues to caress across her most sensitive spots, the twitching nub of her clit all but crushed against a pale nose. “YESHH~!” Under such a euphoric onslaught, the Countess can do nothing but cum and cum and cum, heels firmly pressing into the floor as bolts of bliss burn through her very being. “SSSSHHhnnngh~!”

As if a dam had just burst, a surging torrent of sweet, lavender scented juices squirt straight into Krvavy’s waiting mouth. A flavour reminiscent of cool and calm nights washes over her senses as she hungrily and eagerly swallows down those delicious, lewd liquids.

“Yheesss~...!” The jerky thrusting of Rina’s hips slows into a more relaxed roll as she is gradually guided down from that pleasured peak. “Hahhhh~...” She happily and satisfyingly sighs, her thighs spreading just a little further apart. Yet despite that... the gasping moans that follow only seem to grow more muffled... “Mhhhnnh~... Mwwm~...!”

It isn’t easy for Krvavy’s half-lidded eyes to see up past the Countess’ bare breasts, and not just because those large pink mounds are so perfect. But, still, the sight above is not one she could ever hope to miss.

This absolutely gorgeous noblewoman is so aggressively kissing her bratty albino maid.

“Mwwwm~! Mwaah~!” The Countess’ painted lips pull back from Vera’s pale pair, leaving a glistening black smudge as evidence of their inappropriate affair. “Mwa~! Mwwah mwaah mwwha~! Mwah~! Mwah~! Mmmwah~!” Kiss after kiss after kiss, the Countess exaggeratedly and dramatically assaults her faithful maid, coating that incredibly flustered girl’s increasingly flushed face with dozens of those beautiful marks. “Mwaaah~!”

“M-m-my Lady~!” Vera stammers, bringing her hands up in an attempt to ward off that amorous and affectionate attack. And to hide her ever-growing embarrassment. But, rather predictably, all that does is leave the white silken fabric of her gloves stained with such dark shades of purple they may as well be black.

“Vera, my dear~! You are – mmh~...! – so, so adorable~!” Rina cheerfully coos, pulling that mildly dazed maid of hers into a tight hug. “And you, Krvavy~!” Her quivering thighs spread wider than they need to, freeing that Drakling from such a wonderful prison...

Krvavy’s long and tapered tongue slowly slips free from this Countess’ sweet slit, the blissful bumps and nice nubs that line its inhuman length turning even that retreat into a euphoric experience.

“You~...” A husky need underlines this half-Elf’s whispered voice, her amethyst eyes gleaming like bright gems. “I am beyond tempted to keep you for myself, Krvavy~...” She so shamelessly confesses, subtly shuddering as her still twitching clit is given a soft smooch, strings of saliva and her own lewd liquids stretching between that generous mouth and her rosy skin. “There is something about you that I find so... so very arousing~... Your presence sets my nerves aflame~...” Delicate fingers curl around a single sweeping horn, all but dragging that Draconic dickgirl up and off the floor. “Yes~...!”

Krvavy’s carnivorous teeth gently sink into the yielding expanse of Rina’s tit. A plump, pink nipple fills her mouth, plush and perfect. Her tongue rolls and rubs against that puffy little mound, feeling each little pebbly bump that can be found across its vibrant areola.

Not to be outdone, Vera lowers herself down and – after swatting aside a black-scaled hand – quickly claims the Countess’ other tit. Her glasses soon sit askew on her face, only growing more and more crooked as she shifts back and forth between glaring quite hatefully at her competitor and so lovingly looking up at her Lady.

“Haahhh~... Hahahaah~...!” The Countess moans and laughs as she gazes down at that sight, her hands coming to rest atop the heads of both maid and bodyguard. “My, if an outsider were to see me now, they – haah~! – would surely think that there is a certain skin tone that I prefer~!” A rather dreamy look dances across her hazy, half-lidded eyes. “Perhaps they would be correct~? Such sweet, snowy hues~... Mhhnhh~... Truly beautiful~...”

The Drakling grins around Rina’s wonderfully plump nipple, glancing sideways with more than a small amount of arrogance written across her face.

Vera’s pale pink eyes narrow into slits. She does not, for even a moment, stop or slow her soft suckling. Her gloved hands gently grasp at the Countess’ body, gliding over vibrant pink skin in a purposeful massage. A tinge of smug superiority enters her expression as Rina’s lewd gasps grow ever so slightly louder under her care.

“Yes~...! Just like tha–”

Bump...! Bump...

“–t. Tsk.” Rina clicks her tongue, not bothering to hide her disappointment. Without a word, she presses her palms into the foreheads of the two pale servants suckling at her tits, pushing them both back. Two wet pops echo through this carriage as her glistening nipples are reluctantly released.

Indignation and rage burns within Vera’s gaze as she sees the faint bite marks adorning the areola that Krvavy had claimed.

The Countess slowly sighs, raising a hand and aimlessly waving it through the air, that gesture sending a soft and cleansing light sweeping across the room. “Apologies, Krvavy. I thought that we had more time available. We must have picked up the pace to make up for that... delay... yesterday.” She deliberately glances down towards the Drakling’s hard and throbbing dick, her gaze lingering on that lewd display for a good long moment. “Are you alright to remain pent up for the next few hours, or would you prefer to get yourself off with our toy?”

The barbarian bites her bottom lip and closes her eyes. She slowly breathes in and then out again. “Yeah, I can last until tonight. Just... give me a few minutes to calm down.”

“You will be appropriately rewarded for your patience.” An exaggeratedly serious tone underlines that slightly playful promise, a delicate hand reaching over and giving the still kneeling Drakling a pat on the shoulder... as if commemorating Krvavy for making such a great sacrifice. “Now...” This completely nude Countess rises to her feet, legs still a little unsteady after enduring all of the bliss that she had been blessed with. “Vera, dear, I will need your assistance to be dressed in a timely manner.”

The albino maid swiftly stands up, taking only a single second to straighten her dress, trying to act casual and composed. She pauses briefly, pale pinkish lips threatening to twist into a frown as she sees that her gloves are clean and free of her Lady’s kisses.

Rina pauses partway through the sliding door, glancing halfway back over her shoulder. “Oh, and Krvavy... Welcome to Vratsa. Thank you for accompanying me here.”

“Atten-tion!”

A few dozen armoured boots stomp onto the ground.

The Countess emerges from her carriage, pausing in its open doorway. In this moment, there is hardly a single soul in existence that can rival the allure and elegance of this personification of gothic beauty.

A luxuriously layered dress of black and deep purple covers nearly her entire body, those frilly skirts flaring to the sides in just the right way to emphasize her already wide hips, long enough to reach down past her ankles. Atop her head rests a dark and lacy veil, obscuring this noblewoman’s expression and Elvish ears alike as it hides all above her painted lips.

Her vibrant skin – a rich and bright shade of pink – contrasts with her dark clothing, drawing attention towards her core. Towards her cleavage. Toward the three beauty marks that rest at the base of her breasts, and toward the large amethyst necklace that sits comfortably beneath her collarbone.

That sheer display of beauty and elegance nearly distracts Krvavy from her task.

The Drakling raises her right hand, bare palm pointing up to the dim and cloudy sky. Rina’s delicate fingers, sheathed in the silken fabric of an ornately laced glove, gracefully press down into that offered hand. With a gentle but firm grip, Krvavy helps the Countess descend down those wooden steps, only letting go once both of that half-Elf’s high heels have clacked onto the paved stone ground.

Thin silver chains and strings of onyx beads quietly clink together as the Countess dips into the faintest of curtsies. “You came to greet me in person?” She calmly questions, her dignified tone so steady and even as to make the next few words that pass through her lips sound true, even if they are anything but. “I am honoured.”

Ahead, flanked by knights wielding swords longer than they are tall and wearing wide-brimmed hats in place of helmets, stands a portly man dressed so... extravagantly.

Sitting atop his head is a hat larger than any worn by those around him, a cluster of tall and glimmering golden feathers rising above the spotted white fur that trims its wide brim. An oversized jacket burdens his bulky body, doubling the width of his already quite broad shoulders, while an ornate tunic of woven gold threads does all it can to contain his rather rounded belly... that glittering, gaudy fabric unfortunately parted at the front by a large and regrettably eye-catching codpiece...

“Of course,” that ignoble nobleman confidently speaks, his voice deep and phlegmy. An unpleasant, lecherous smile parts his thin lips, yellowed teeth – quite a few capped in gold – gleaming beneath a greasy dark moustache as beady eyes blatantly stare further down from the Countess’ face than is proper. “It would be an insult to your granduncle’s memory were I to not welcome you to my Vratsa. Few served my father as well as he, Lady Marzannavich.”

The Countess so subtly nods, dainty and delicately gloved hands clasped in front of her waist in such a prim and proper way. “He was a good man and a great ruler, as I have heard. It is a shame for your lands to lack even one subject as talented as he.”

This corpulent noble slowly lifts his gaze back up to roughly where Rina’s eyes would be behind her veil, his expression steadily growing darker. “That you are dressed for mourning may give your betters and peers the wrong impression of life in Raseyne.” He coldly states, speaking in a tone not unlike that of a parent or adult addressing a child that they utterly detest. A tone that Krvavy was once quite familiar with.

“How so?” The faintest hint of disdain can be heard in the Countess’ voice, a fact not lost on the man standing not too far away... nor many of his colourfully clothed retinue.

Krvavy slowly rolls her jaw, an act no doubt mirrored by many of the more practically armoured knights that she has sparred with these past few days.

“I dress not like this while at home, only when away,” the Countess calmly continues, “for I mourn being so far from my people. As any good ruler should. And to be dressed in such serious, somber garb is more than appropriate for the topics in which we are are here to speak.” Silence lingers in the air for just a moment, this regal ruler giving her head a gentle shake. “Enough of these pleasantries, Duke Zlatan. We can and will talk more as the Council is held. I thank you for coming to greet me and mine in person, and return the favour by informing you of a potential danger to your people that we chanced upon yesterday, just before noonday.”

The beady eyes of this greasy Duke narrow into thin pinpricks. “Vratsa and the lands around it are far safer and far more secure than the marches that you call home. So, pray tell, what fanciful story have you to say?”

A faint nod precedes the Countess’ words. “We encountered a deer afflicted with an unknown and worrying ailment. Black puss oozed from wounds across its body, seeping into the ground as it stood in the midst of the road. The poor creature was swiftly spared from misery, reduced to naught but cinders by Dragonflame,” a single gloved hand subtly gestures toward the Drakling standing by this noblewoman’s side. “You and I may not always see eye to eye, but I do not wish for such a curse to plague the common folk beneath us.”

It is almost imperceptible, but that Duke’s expression shifts ever so slightly as Rina speaks. His corpulent face pales by a mere shade. The rise and fall of his chest ever so slightly quickens. His meaty fingers curl into fists, clenched tight enough for the skin around his many rings to lose its colour.

But the mention of that tainted deer having been cremated seems to steady that nobleman’s nerves, returning his expression to its prior unpleasant arrogance. “No such sickness exists in my lands.” He firmly and forcefully states, a threatening tone creeping into his voice. “And the spreading of rumours meant to panic my people will not be tolerated. Have a pleasant stay in my city.”

“Make way!” One of those knights with large and floppy hats unnecessarily shouts.

None of the Countess’ men are in the way of that gaudily dressed Duke, letting him freely turn and walk over to a small but incredibly overdecorated carriage... the strings of pearls and gold that cover his puffy jacket clinking and jingling with each heavy step he takes.

“May the moons watch over you.” That corpulent man coldly calls out as he climbs into his coach, the men that serve him doing much the same as they mount their steeds, sizable swords coming to rest over armoured shoulders. “Or whatever it is that your kind believes...” His already far from cordial voice shifts into a grumble as he spits those last words onto the ground.

Hooves clip and clop over paved stone as the Duke and his men depart.

The barbarian blinks and finally takes a look around. They appear to be at the end of a street, where it has rounded into a large plaza centered around a towering fountain. Tall brick walls of various different styles and colours surround nearly the entire area, obscuring all but the roofs of the buildings hidden away behind them.

“Have the gates opened and bring the carriages around.” Rina casually orders, seemingly unbothered by that whole interaction. This is not the first time she has had to deal with that Duke. Nor will it be the last. “I will walk the rest of the way myself. It is not far.”

With that the numerous knights spring into action, moving with purpose. They spread throughout the plaza, ensuring the safety of their Countess and the convoy of carriages alike.

Krvavy can’t help but glance back at the carriage that she and the Countess rode in. Its door is closed and the steps retracted. The faintest frown finds its way onto her face. After a whole week of having very little privacy, it feels odd for Vera to not be skulking around in the background glaring at her. Though it is pretty fitting for that bitchy maid to have chosen to stay with the rest of her Lady’s belongings...

“What are your first impressions of Duke Veselin Zlatan?” Rina curiously asks, her heels softly tapping over the paving stones as she walks off, expecting the Drakling to follow.

Which is, of course, exactly what happens.

“Well...” Krvavy easily keeps pace with that gothic noblewoman, even as she gnaws on the inside of her cheek and slows down a little, taking a moment to put her thoughts in order. “He... seems like a bit of a sleazebag. Gross, greasy, and arrogant.” That he definitely knew more about the deer and its... sickness... goes unspoken.

“I would like to say that you are a good judge of character,” a tinge of amusement underlines Rina’s otherwise professional tone. “But Veselin does not hide who he is. Not well, at least. The Duke of Vratsa is as he appears to be: an unpleasant man.”

“Was Raseyne considered ‘his’, or at least his father’s, at some point in the past?” The Drakling pauses for just a second, watching a large gate of dark wood and even darker iron slowly open further ahead. “Or was he just being a dick?”

“More the latter than the former.” The slightest of smiles plays at Rina’s painted lips as she spares her bodyguard a brief glance. “Raseyne is the heart of a County, while Vratsa sits within a Duchy. That technically puts Duke Zlatan above me in rank, though in truth we are both independent rulers who answer to none but ourselves, despite what the old titles that we use may imply. As for the past...”

Krvavy’s head slowly swivels side to side, taking in the sight of the estate that they’ll be staying at for the next couple days as she listens to the Countess talk.

“Our two lands used to be tied together quite closely, as allies,” the elegant noblewoman emphasizes that word, following it with a soft sigh. “But I would not say that my great-granduncle was ever a subject of Veselin’s father. Or even his grandfather. They had the occasional conflict, primarily over how their shared border was drawn, and those would not have happened had one been above the other. Not quite as they did, at least.”

This place... isn’t as fancy or as beautiful as the Countess’ estate back in Raseyne. It is honestly a lot more homely. In a literal sense as well as figurative. Rather than a large castle turned chateau, the building up ahead is an old, mostly wooden, manor house. Plenty of gardens surround it, but many of them are more practical than decorative: there are quite a few plots growing what appear to be vegetables. It is definitely a step above the other buildings that Krvavy saw as they drove through the city, but that isn’t exactly saying much...

“I take it that Vratsa isn’t as wealthy as its Duke would like?” The Drakling idly assumes, shifting her axe from one shoulder to the other. “I wasn’t looking out the window the entire time, but this place seems a lot older and... I don’t want to say run down... than Raseyne.”

The Countess brings a single gloved hand up to her lips, hiding a subtle smile that quickly fades as she quietly clears her throat. “To be charitable, the civil war that followed my great-granduncle’s death lead to large swathes of Raseyne being damaged or outright destroyed, so most of the city is indeed newer. That said... Your assumption would be correct. Vratsa is a city in decline. And, to some degree, that is my fault.”

Krvavy cocks her head to the side. “How so?”

“Simply put, I am far less restrictive of a ruler than the Duke.” Rina plainly replies, pausing briefly to give one of her servants an appreciative nod as the door to her manor house is held open.

A silver chandelier hangs in the center of this beautiful entrance hall, glittering in the light it is emitting. Ornate carpets lay across the hardwood floor, the subtle geometric patterns depicted on them matching those painted on the upper half of the walls, while the lower halves are covered with polished wood panelling a few shades darker than the floor. Overall, it has a similar vibe to the Countess’ main estate, if far more rustic. And wooden.

“But to be more in depth...” This gorgeous half-Elf takes a deep breath, her vibrant cleavage almost looking bursting from her regal dress, the corset cinched tight around her waist not helping that. “I opened trade with the Orcs and the Risafaedr, creating entire markets that merchants flocked to benefit from. I treat the Halflings who live within my lands fairly, providing protection in exchange for a small tithe of their produce, rather than abuse and take advantage of them as is far too common here and further to the west...”

The various sounds of the Countess’ servants fade into the distance as she and her barbaric bodyguard head deeper into this worryingly maze-like manor.

Krvavy can already tell that she is going to get lost in here at some point.

“And, perhaps the final nail in the coffin that is Vratsa, I brought stability back to Raseyne, so those who fled here in the generation past returned to what was once their home.” Rina lightly bites her bottom lip, the rest of her face obscured by that black silken veil. “I never aimed to prosper off of the decline and stagnation of Veselin’s lands, but the end result was the same regardless of my intent.”

“Yeah, I can see why that Duke might be a bit bitter then...” The Drakling idly comments, continuing to curiously take in her surroundings. This building doesn’t seem to have any actual hallways. Just rooms that lead to more rooms...

“Oh, ‘bitter’ hardly describes the depths of his feelings for me.” A soft, sardonic laugh follows that slightly exasperated statement. “That old lech utterly detests me,” Rina quite calmly explains, turning toward what appears to be nothing more than a closet door... only for a spiral staircase to be hidden inside it. “And, of course, the feeling is mutual. That he repeatedly demands for my hand in marriage and that I repeatedly deny him only makes us despise each other even more.”

A tight pressure clenches around Krvavy’s heart, her crimson brow shooting straight up. “Wait... He wants to marry you?”

The Countess pauses partway up that narrow and twisting staircase, glancing back over her shoulder. “Why of course.” Those black painted lips of hers slowly curl into a playful, teasing smile. “I am quite the desirable woman, would you not say~?”

Krvavy’s cheeks flush a deep red. “That’s... I –”

“I know what you meant, dear~.” Rina’s musical voice dances through the air, amusement dripping from her every word. She softly shakes her head and steps out of the stairwell... which continues climbing to another story above. “Veselin no doubt covets me for my looks and my beauty,” the pink-skinned half-Elf continues, her tone far more serious. “But that is not the main reason. No, more than my body, he wants my lands and my city. Hence why, in recent years, he has more frequently demanded that I marry his son rather than himself. Not that such an offer is any more appealing to me.”

“Like father like son, huh?” Krvavy comments, trying to act casual as she slowly recovers from this alluring noblewoman’s sudden teasing. The topic at hand actually makes that harder. Thinking about Rina and marriage makes Krvavy realize just how much the Countess’ current outfit looks like a wedding dress. Albeit a completely black one... and one that also gives a great view of her eye-catching cleavage... So maybe more like a sexy goth wedding dress...

“To some degree.” Rina plainly returns, stepping through one last door and into a dead-end room. A small private library judging by the bookshelves lining the walls. Though the large desk sitting in its center could also mark it as a study... “The Duke’s son is not as lecherous, or he is at least far more subtle in that regard, and neither is he as greasy in appearance or demeanour. Yet I find him far more insufferable. Veselin, at least, has proven himself capable in many regards... loathe as I am to admit it. But his son? That boy acts like an arrogant and spoiled child, despite not having been one for well over a decade”

“I feel like that is common for nobles. At least the ones that grew up with the whole silver spoon and whatnot.” Krvavy shrugs, stepping towards the only window in the room and leaning down to look through it. Or at least to try to look through it. The glass is quite foggy and diffused, almost like stained glass but still white, so it is hard to see what’s out there. Some trees and –

“Need I remind you that I too am a noble~?” Rina playfully questions, those warm words causing her bodyguard to freeze in place. “And though I was born in exile, my father made a decent fortune as a merchant, so I too grew up with wealth~.” The sound of a chair being pulled back, followed by a fair bit of rustling fabric, briefly interrupts her teasing. “As well as silverware~. A modest set, but it was still silverware~.”

Krvavy closes her eyes and slowly sighs. She is very tempted to thump her forehead into the pane of glass in front of her. But that probably isn’t the best idea. What with her horns being so tough and all...

“Now, now~. No need to be embarrassed over putting your own foot in your mouth~.” The Countess’ cooing voice lowers in volume and tone, growing almost seductive. “Your social clumsiness and occasional bluntness is part of your charm, Krvavy~. One of the reasons why I am growing so fond of you~. It is... refreshing~. But... if you are worried about saying the wrong thing, then how about we find something else to occupy that mouth of yours~?”

A shiver runs down the Drakling’s spine, her ears picking up the fact that this room has suddenly fallen silent. She doesn’t even need to turn around to know just what that means. But turn around she does, the skimpy thong that serves as her underwear feeling a fair bit tighter as her heart beats faster and faster.

The first thing that Krvavy sees is the Countess’ beautiful dress – with all of its layers and frills and lace – slumped over the back of an armchair. The second thing she sees is the Countess herself.

“Well~?” Rina expectantly asks, painted lips curling into an alluringly arrogant smile as she so casually goes to sit behind that large desk, nothing but some lacy lingerie maintaining her modesty. “Do you not want to resume where we left off earlier, before our arrival to this city interrupted our fun~? Of course, this time you will not be so neglected~.” A familiar golden band with four white gems inlaid onto it dangles from her gloved fingers, hanging above a stack of paperwork. “I see the answer in your eyes~. Go on now, place your axe aside and take off that loincloth of yours~.”

Krvavy does not need to be asked twice.

That Drakling very quickly snaps out of her daze, taking just a moment to make sure her Soulbound weapon isn’t going to suddenly fall over as she leaves it standing in the corner, propped up against a sturdy shelf. Without wasting any more time, Krvavy begins to hastily pull at and loosen her loincloth. She struggles slightly with the straps that help to hold the armour on her tail in place, but after only a couple seconds at most... those too are unclasped, slowly slipping down the length of that thick and meaty appendage.

“Come hither, Krvavy~...” The magical pseudo-pussy glows and takes shape, balancing in the palm of Rina’s outstretched hand. “Worry not, none but my Vera will dare to interrupt us for the rest of the eve~. I am, after all, expected to deal with all this deskwork and to pen many, many letters~. Let us see just how well you and your wonderful tongue can distract me, yes~?”

The Drakling’s dick throbs and steadily grows to its full length. She tries not to look too excited as she takes that lewd toy from the Countess. “Haahhn~...” A blissful sigh of relief escapes past her parted lips as the tight magical construct slowly engulfs her girthy shaft.

Rina’s amethyst eyes shine with arousal, the sight of that big and barbaric bodyguard kneeling before her more than enough to fan the flames of her lust. With grace and elegance, and a not insignificant amount of impatient anticipation, she plucks the mask-like helmet from Krvavy’s head and drops it onto her desk. “There should be plenty of space down there, even for one as large as you~.” Her delicate hand gently guides that Draconic dickgirl down beneath her desk, holding Krvavy by the horn. “And... I do hope you don’t find this demeaning.”

Krvavy blinks, surprised and slightly taken aback by the sudden lack of lust in the Countess’ voice. “I... I’d definitely enjoy it more if our roles were reversed here, but... I don’t really mind this either.” A slightly lecherous smile finds its way onto this Drakling’s face, emerald eyes gleaming as she peers up at that gorgeous noblewoman. “You have work to do, and I’d be lying if I said that you weren’t abso-fucking-lutely delicious~...!”

The pink cheeks of this half Moon Elf grow just a little more vibrant. “Splendid~...!” She excitedly exhales, a simple gesture causing that lewd toy to suckle away at the oversized shaft that it so snugly sheathes. “Now let us both get to work~.”

Krvavy grins as the Countess’ thighs spread apart, hungry for the meal in front of her.