The taste of the Wind Goddess was truly exquisite.
Though he didn't have the habit of a post-coital cigarette, after a long-overdue... well, not that long-overdue session of all-night pleasure, Faen walked onto the terrace with a face full of leisure and satisfaction.
The High-tower Manor was once a "vanity project" built by the Chem-Barons to rival the Bluewind Estate. In reality, the Chem-Barons rarely lived here. The primary reason was that their identities and methods were far from clean; a building constructed with the involvement of others could never provide them with true inner security.
This led to the situation where, despite its completion, the Chem-Barons usually huddled in their own dens except for major occasions. Consequently, this Zaunite face-saving project ended up becoming a bargain for Faen.
Just like when Sievika arrived earlier and needed Faen's water currents to guide her way. Considering the Chem-Barons' cowardice, even with a map in hand, one might accidentally stumble into some secret side passage; specialized guidance was always necessary.
Similarly, as a vanity project, even though it was located in Zaun, the scenery here was quite remarkable. Gazing at the skyscrapers of the Piltover cluster, the distant Monument Valley, Brass Boulevard, the statue of the Great Inventor at the Academy, the city gardens, and the far-off coastline, Faen exhaled a long breath of turbid air after a night of hard labor.
But at that moment, sensing something, Faen looked down. The "radar" in his lower half was already standing tall and proud.
My internal radar is twitching! There's a sorceress—no, a girl nearby who needs help!
Perceiving the source, Faen cast his gaze toward the rooms behind him.
In the massive High-tower Manor, only Faen and a few girls resided. Leaving aside Janna and Zeri, Caitlyn was busy confronting Jinx. So, who was the remaining careless girl who had let her guard slip? Hard to guess, right? Isn't that so, Seraphine?
While Faen entered "search mode," on the other side of the wall:
After waiting in her room for a long time, and confirming that Lady Janna and Miss Zeri had finally begun to rest—that the bedroom on the other side of the wall had finally returned to silence—Seraphine let out a long sigh of relief.
Her thin silk nightgown was now soaked through with sweat. She looked down at her right hand, feeling a surge of shame at the sight of the sticky wetness on it. She hurriedly wiped it with a tissue; her hand was clean, but immediately after, she felt a damp, uncomfortable sensation between her legs.
Blushing, Seraphine untied her already soaked panties. Holding them in her hand, she looked around frantically, unsure where to put them. She was only a guest here; if she just hid them in a random corner, wouldn't the cleaning staff find them?
Especially since she knew that Faen, besides being the master here, also governed everything through his magic. If his water currents found this while cleaning her room...
At the thought, Seraphine swallowed involuntarily, feeling a surge of heat across her body. Previously, the panties had acted as a barrier, but now that they were removed, she could instantly feel several trails of warm moisture overflowing from her cleavage, flowing down her fair, slender legs.
"Eek!" Panic-stricken, she grabbed more tissues and frantically wiped the moisture from her body. Her legs were manageable, but when she tried to wipe the source of the flow, she found that even a slight touch made her brain tremble; she couldn't help herself.
Her whole body felt limp and weak. Just as she prepared to wipe, she lost her balance and collapsed onto the floor. She rubbed her perky buttocks unhappily; though the soft flesh throbbed slightly from the fall, it still yielded like clay under her fingertips, shifting into various shapes.
She wanted to stand up, but her strength was gone. Subconsciously, she stopped trying to force it and used her magic instead—the muscle enhancement provided by magic was much more effective than physical effort.
Unfortunately, she forgot the nature of her own magic. The moment she activated it, an intense sensation came flooding out. Under the contract, the lingering afterglow within Zeri and Janna's bodies merged into Seraphine's mind and body through harmonic resonance like a tidal wave.
She was already in a state of extreme sensitivity and craving, having been denied satisfaction for so long and unable to make up her mind to take the final step. This primal bodily longing, combined with her subconscious curiosity and the impulse to try, produced a violent chemical reaction the moment it touched the resonant senses.
Arching her back, Seraphine's eyes rolled back as she straightened her torso, her legs spread wide and trembling violently as she sprayed a continuous torrent. Her jaw was clenched, her exquisite face a complex tapestry of pleasure and tension. Yet, no matter how complex, the unnatural upward tilt of her lips suggested it was mostly the joy of physical release.
As the spray gradually slowed, finally retreating into a small stream, Seraphine raised her head with difficulty. A broken, "played-out" smile lingered on her lips, and her eyes were filled with daze and the faint, shimmering heart-shapes woven by her melody magic. She knew she couldn't stay here much longer. Otherwise, things would only get worse.
Thinking this, she cautiously reached her hand toward the two flower petals that were muddy from the flood—never truly satisfied, still opening and closing, writhing. Feeling the thick juices, Seraphine couldn't resist using the tissue in her hand to rub and chafe them a few times. The residual cheerfulness surged back, and this time, being prepared, she narrowed her eyes and involuntarily moaned softly: "Mr. Faen..."
"I'm right here. Do you need help?"
"Eh?" Hearing this, Seraphine thought she was hallucinating. She dazedly opened her wet eyes and looked toward the source of the voice. There, standing in the open doorway, was Mr. Faen, poking his head in with a face full of concern. And right next to him, his "little brother" was also poking its head in from outside.
"Uh? AHHHHHH!!!!"
The moment she reacted, the misty wetness in Seraphine's eyes vanished at an alarming speed, replaced by pure panic, shame, horror, and unease.
Her sweat-drenched, crystalline face turned a scalding red instantly. She screamed and tried to turn and stand up to get away from him.
But sadly, she was exceptionally weak. The moment she stood up, her legs gave way, and she fell to the floor again. Her knees hit the thick, soft carpet—it didn't hurt, but the combined motion of turning, rising, and then falling left her upper body on the floor while her knees supported her weight, her perky rear tilted high toward Faen behind her.
First came the pain, then the realization of her posture. Realizing what she looked like, Seraphine's whole body trembled. Her legs tensed, her hands gripped the tufts of the carpet, and her perky buttocks swayed invitingly amidst her tremors. Immediately after, another high-pressure stream erupted.
It lasted for about ten seconds before the flow receded. But just as she began to relax, she remembered Faen was standing right behind her. And her current pose, her state...
She subconsciously stole a glance backward, only to meet Faen's slightly surprised expression. Sensing her own embarrassment and pinned by Faen's gaze, Seraphine—who had just finished twice—didn't even get a chance to catch her breath before her body began to shake again.
Unlike the first two times, the continuous loss of fluids had severely drained her already limited stamina and energy. Furthermore, because of the harmonic resonance, she didn't dare use magic to strengthen her body. This time, her movements became exceptionally heavy as she sagged and heaved. Faen was increasingly amazed by Seraphine's "water volume"... it was practically on par with Zeri.
While Faen was still marveling, Seraphine, realizing he was still there, struggled to rise from the floor. But still in the midst of her spray, her weak legs couldn't support her. Driven purely by an instinctual sense of overwhelming shame, she wobbled and crawled toward Faen, leaving a bright trail of wetness in her wake.
Reaching Faen, she shook her jade-like buttocks, trying to stand. Just as she almost made it, her foot slipped, and she fell forward. Fortunately, Faen was there, reaching out to catch her before she could hit the floor face-first.
Faen scooped her up by the waist. Her nightgown, thin as a cicada's wing and already soaked with love juices, was now practically transparent, clinging wetly to her body and outlining her green yet excitement-enlarged breasts perfectly. Her pink nipples were as hard as nutmegs, poking stubbornly against the fabric.
Because of Faen's catch, Seraphine's muddy, red, and swollen labia were pressed firmly against the root of Faen's muscular thigh. Faen's large hand made no effort to avoid her; his rough palm reached directly under the hem of her gown, sliding all the way up the slick inner side of her thigh. His fingertips accurately flicked the sensitive clitoris that was already engorged to its limit.
"Mngh... ah! Mr. Faen... there..."
Seraphine arched her snow-white neck, her sapphire eyes instantly dilating into dazed heart-shapes as a broken, lewd moan of surrender escaped her throat. Under the dual wash of the "Joy Factor" and the melody resonance, her never-before-cultivated, tight vaginal canal began to spasm violently and uncontrollably. With a sharp "squelch" of watery friction, a massive amount of scalding, viscous love juices mixed with a sweet, metallic scent of a first-timer burst forth once again like a broken dam. The flood erupted, staining Faen's abdomen and trousers in a total mess.
Achieving a climax amidst the extreme sense of immorality—with the door wide open and the constant risk of being discovered by Zeri next door—caused the Piltie idol's reason to collapse entirely. Her smooth toes curled inward tightly, her body shaking as if struck by high-voltage electricity. The out-turned soft flesh of her private parts writhed greedily, continuously weeping crystal-clear foam and juices. She slumped into Faen's arms like a pile of melting mud, her eyes containing nothing but a primal craving for the massive object before her.
Though she hadn't fallen to the floor, as she landed against Faen, a dazed Seraphine felt something scorching press against her face. Accompanying it was a powerful masculine scent that drilled through her nose and into her brain.
Amidst that intense aura, she could clearly feel the vigorous blood-qi circulating beneath his trousers, a thick life-energy pressing against her that felt as if it could complete a cycle of sowing and harvesting in the very next moment...
She looked up. From her position, she found herself pressed right against the area three inches below Faen's navel. Above her, Faen's face looked down at her, filled with surprise.
Sensing Faen's gaze, her light silk pajamas soaked through and transparent, Seraphine opened her mouth. Like a puppy drenched in the rain, she pleaded with a sob in her voice: "Help... help me..."