Chapter 58: Frenzied Devotion

When Bel parted her lips slightly, Lema wasted no time. His tongue pushed inside, filling and claiming the space, sealing their lips together with a fierce intensity.

“Mm… uhn…”

A moan slipped from Bel’s throat.

It was no wonder—the kiss was unbearably stimulating.

The wet sounds of saliva, the slick noise of tongues twisting and pressing, the ragged panting that grew louder with each breath Lema drew. Every time they parted and met again, the lewd, sticky noises of their mingling tongues evoked the image of carnal union.

“Ah… ngh…”

Lema was relentless. Even when Bel thought the man would move on to other caresses, he remained fixated, pouring himself into this single act of devouring kisses.

With his strength already drained from the moment their bodies touched, Bel grew weak faster than usual.

“Uuh… ahh…”

Lema’s arm slid around her back, fingers stroking gently as if to soothe her, while the other hand pressed his shoulder down onto the bed. Straddling him, Lema trapped her firmly beneath his body and resumed the kiss with feverish hunger.

Bel, already limp and dazed, could only leave her lips parted. Lema’s tongue extended, tangling and smearing against Bel’s smaller one, savoring her as though he could never have enough. Strings of saliva clung and fell, adding a squelching sound each time he moved.

When at last Lema pulled back for breath, Bel’s lips and chin glistened as though soaked in nectar, wet and shamelessly marked.

“Haa… Master.”

Instead of another kiss, Lema lowered himself, his lips trailing downward.

Bel’s body was flawless as always—untouched by fatigue, even after long journeys on horseback. Smooth thighs, supple calves—free of tension or knots.

Yet Lema touched her as though finding hidden strain, kneading at her calves and ankles, pressing tender kisses across the arch of her foot, her ankle, even the tips of her toes.

Bel gasped—everywhere Lema touched, pleasure flared tenfold, as though her skin itself had grown more sensitive.

“Ah… Lema…”

His lips burned hot, scorching wherever they pressed. If one were to tear Lema’s heart out, it would surely throb and spew molten blood, still pumping with the heat of life.

Lema stripped away Bel’s garments swiftly—trousers, underclothes, all at once—revealing her body with a swiftness that contrasted the slow, reverent kisses before.

He kissed his way up the inner thighs, fingers wandering between them, already brushing against slick, dripping heat.

His calloused hand teased around the entrance, coating his fingers in wetness, yet he never ceased pressing kisses higher. His tongue finally brushed the swollen bud, circling without mercy, refusing to give Bel what she desperately sought.

“Haa… Lema…”

Bel’s hips lifted restlessly.

The next instant, Lema’s lips descended. His heated breath poured over Bel’s folds, followed by his slick, hungry tongue laving against her swollen pearl.

“Ahh—ngh!”

Wet, obscene sounds filled the air. His tongue slathered and pressed, then sealed over the bud, sucking with ravenous force.

Pleasure surged from below, flooding upward until Bel’s limbs grew languid and useless.

“Mm… ahh…”

“Master…”

His thick, sword-calloused fingers spread Bel’s entrance, sliding inside without hesitation. One finger, then another, stretching the soft walls with ease.

Between kisses, he looked up, eyes burning with hunger.

“I… want to satisfy you far more than the summoner you seek.”

His voice, rough and hoarse, resonated low—so heavy it made Bel’s insides tremble just hearing it.

“There… a little more…”

“Here?”

“Ahh—!”

Another finger pressed in, filling him further. The walls clamped down, trembling, as though clinging desperately to the intrusion.

“Is there no way I could become your summoner, Master?”

“Haa… ngh…”

His skilled fingers stroked the sensitive spots, coaxing shudder after shudder from Bel’s body.

Every protest dissolved into moans as Lema’s mouth trailed upward again, kisses climbing her trembling abdomen.

“I could… please you so much better.”

The words melted into a hot breath against his skin.

Then Bel arched—and Lema buried his face back between her thighs, sucking and lapping greedily.

“Ahh—haa…”

No hesitation. No restraint. Only frantic devotion.

“Ahh! Nghh—!”

His fingers thrust deeper, stronger—two thick digits rubbing the sensitive walls. Calloused palms brushed along her thighs, gripping, forcing them apart whenever Bel tried to close them.

“Ahh—! Hhhhnngh!”

As Bel’s body convulsed in climax again, Lema tugged her knees apart and pressed himself forward.

With obscene ease, slickened by saliva and Bel’s own wetness, his hardened length slid inside.

Not the slow, teasing entrance of before—this time it was urgent, rough, filling him in a single forceful thrust.

“Ah—!”

“Master… does it hurt?”

“N-no… it’s—haa…”

The sudden fullness sent a shock racing up her spine, a heady mix of danger and ecstasy.

Her insides stretched taut around the thick intrusion, yet they yielded quickly, opening to him faster than ever.

“Haa… nghh…”

Lema groaned, voice breaking with strain, as he pushed deeper, deeper, until Bel’s belly tensed from the pressure.

And then—unable to hold back—he wrapped Bel’s waist in his arms and slammed upward in one desperate thrust.

“Haa—ahhhhnn!”

The sudden depth made Bel cry out in shock, body clenching tight around him.

Lema pulled back to the tip—then drove in again with brutal force.

Thrust after thrust, merciless and unyielding.

“Ahh—hahh—!”

There was no stopping. No pause.

Only frenzied devotion.