Saving The Monster Race Starts With Breeding The Elf Village

Sigrid’s eyes fluttered closed as her world narrowed to the warm, firm pressure of his mouth on hers.

It was a different kind of heat than the focus of his touch against her chest, less sharp, yet far more consuming. It spread through her veins like warm honey, loosening the last remnants of her tension until her limbs felt heavy and fluid.

A low, helpless murmur caught in her throat against his lips, and that quiet surrender was all the answer he needed.

Luca didn’t pull back. Instead, the kiss deepened, his grip tightening as she parted her lips instinctively to welcome him.

”Mwah!♡~ Mwah!♡~ Pucker!♡~ Mwah!♡~”

The slick, intimate slide of his tongue sent a shock straight down her spine. She had read about this in the faded romance novels smuggled into the barracks late at night, but the quiet text on a page had done nothing to prepare her for the sheer weight of the reality.

The wet heat, the friction, the dizzying sensation that her entire body was dissolving into his embrace—it was overwhelming!

”Sir Luca...” she breathed into the narrow space between their mouths, the title slipping past her lips unbidden.

His response was immediate, shutting down her lingering thoughts with a sudden, fiercer pressure.

”Peck!♡~ Peck!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Peck!♡~ Taste!♡~”

The gentle exploration gave way to something hungrier, their breathing tangling as their mouths moved together in a rhythm that grew faster, more urgent.

When his teeth grazed her lower lip, pulling with a tug, a sharp gasp escaped her and she used the opening to pull him closer, sinking entirely into the tide.

”Luca.” She whispered again, her voice trembling. ”Sir Luca...”

He pulled her closer, and somehow, impossibly, the kiss became more intense.

What had started as tender had quickly become aggressive, desperate. Luca rose up all the way, his hands gripping her head, tilting it back as he kissed her with a ferocity that stole her breath.

She followed his lead willingly, letting him position her however he wanted, surrendering completely to the moment.

His hands also roamed her her shoulders, her back, the curve of her waist. And her own hands were equally busy, exploring the planes of his chest, the hard muscles of his arms, the warmth of his neck.

But then her hand drifted lower.

Past his chest. Past his stomach. Down to the waistband of his trousers...

And she felt it!

Even through the thick fabric, the shape was unmistakable. Hard. Thick. Straining against its confines with an urgency that matched the desperation of their kiss.

Sigrid’s hand froze.

She pulled back abruptly, breaking the kiss with a wet sound as she stared right over the prominent bulge in his pants.

It was massive! There was no other word for it.

The outline pressed so insistently against the fabric that it seemed almost painful, curving along his thigh because there simply wasn’t enough room for it to point straight.

”Sir Luca, I...” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

He followed her gaze, and a flush of genuine embarrassment colored his cheeks.

”Ah. That. Sorry. Please, don’t mind it. It’s...it’s just a physiological reaction. It’ll...subside.”

His words were clumsy, a stark contrast to his earlier smooth confidence.

But surprisingly Sigrid didn’t look away. Instead, she stared at the protrusion, her heart hammering against her ribs.

A strange, protective instinct flared within her. She remembered how he had looked at her breasts with such reverence an hunger and she realized that this, too, was a reaction to her.

”That...would probably hurt, right?” She asked softly, her eyes not leaving the strained fabric.

”Huh?”

”That thing...in your pants. Being that hard for so long...it must be uncomfortable. Maybe even painful.”

Her voice was filled with a curious concern. She reached out and let her fingertips ghost over the aching bulge through the cloth.

The heat radiating from it was startling. She felt it jump at her touch.

”Sigrid...” Luca sucked in a sharp breath.

”Ever since you first got on me...”

She continued, her voice gaining a note of wondering resolve as she gently traced the formidable length with her fingers.

”You’ve had this...this hardness with you. Carrying it around, hiding it. That must feel really uncomfortable.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

”Yes. It...can be. Aching, more than pain. But it’s fine, really. It’s my burden to bear.”

She looked up from her contemplation of his trapped arousal and met his eyes. Her own held a shyness, but beneath it blazed a new, determined light.

”Then.” Sigrid said, her voice steady and clear in the quiet night. ”I’ll help you with it.”

”Oh no. Sigrid, you don’t have to—wait what?”

He stopped. Because the words that had just left her mouth finally registered fully in his brain, and he found himself staring at her with complete, utter dumbfoundedness.

’Did she just...?’

Sigrid, of all people. The proud Commander of the centaur cavalry. The warrior who carried herself with the rigid dignity of a seasoned military leader.

’She had just offered to...to...’

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

And then Sigrid saw his expression.

Her face went from pink to scarlet in the span of a heartbeat.

”N-No! I mean—um—I—” Her hands flew up, waving frantically in front of her as if she could physically erase the words from the air. ”That’s not—I didn’t mean to imply—”

She took a deep breath, forcing the words out with the desperate determination of a soldier charging into battle.

”Y-You looked like you were in genuine pain! And as—as your sworn steed, bound by the sacred covenant, it is my fundamental duty to ensure my rider’s continued health and vitality! For example—”

She clasped her hands together, fingers interlocking as if in prayer.

”—if you were to fall gravely ill, and the only remedy lay beyond a mountain range consumed by fire, I would charge through those flames without hesitation! I would brave any hell, any torment, to retrieve what you needed!”

Then she looked down at his crotch, and the steadiness evaporated.

”...And so.” She said, much more quietly. ”if you’re in pain right now...then naturally, the same principle applies. I’ll help you with that as well.”

Then, as if the words had only just registered in her own ears, she shook her head so violently that strands of silver hair escaped her ponytail and stuck to her flushed cheeks.

”It’s only for that purpose!” She insisted. ”Not because I want to do it or anything! I am simply fulfilling my obligations as—”

”Sigrid.”

His voice was soft, but it cut through her rambling. And when she finally dared to look at him properly, she found Luca watching her with an expression that made her feel simultaneously exposed and strangely safe.

Then, slowly, a smile curved at the corner of his lips.

”So you want to help me out, huh?”

The doubt in his voice was unmistakable, layered with amusement like honey over bread. Sigrid felt her face burn so hot she was certain steam should be rising from her ears.

But before she could muster the courage to flee, the teasing glint faded, replaced by something gentler.

”Thank you, Sigrid.” His hand rose to rest against her cheek, thumb brushing the corner of her jaw. ”For looking out for me. I’m truly glad to have a steed like you.”

Her breath caught somewhere in her chest and refused to leave.

’That’s unfair.’ She thought, dazed, as the warmth spread through her scalp and down her spine. ’That’s completely unfair. How am I supposed to be on my guard when he says things like that?’

But then his hand moved.

Lower. Down her neck. Across her collarbone. Until his palm was cupping her breast once more, his fingers finding her nipple with practiced ease.

He twisted it gently, just enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to her core.

”That’s the same for me as well.” Luca murmured, his voice low and warm against her ear. ”Whenever these get a little too hard, a little too painful, just call me over. I’ll make sure to suck on them until they’re soft and tender again.”

He punctuated the promise with a light flick that sent electricity racing down her spine.

Before Sigrid could even begin to formulate a response, Luca’s hands moved to his belt. The metal buckle clicked open with a sound that seemed impossibly loud in the quiet night.

Then he pushed his pants down and Sigrid’s mind went blank.

Her thoughts, her protests, her carefully constructed reasons—all of it evaporated in an instant, replaced by pure, unfiltered awe.

Because there, springing free from its confinement like some great beast finally released from its cage, was Luca’s cock!

It stood proud and rigid, angled upward toward the stars as if it had ambitions of reaching them. The first thought that crashed through Sigrid’s stunned mind was absurdly simple: A sword. He’s been hiding another sword down there this entire time!

But no sword she had ever seen looked like that.

The length alone was staggering, easily as long as her forearm, perhaps longer. And the thickness...she had trained with broadswords and wielded weapons that required two hands just to lift, and yet the thought of trying to wrap her fingers around this was somehow more intimidating.

Veins ran along its surface like rivers carved into marble, pulsing with each beat of his heart. The skin was taut and smooth, a shade darker than the rest of his body, stretched tight over the rigid flesh beneath.

And at the tip—

At the tip sat a bulbous head that looked less like a part of the human body and more like the business end of a war hammer. Round and flushed and glistening slightly in the moonlight, it seemed to stare back at her with a single, unblinking eye.

Sigrid took an involuntary step backward.

She had seen it before in the dreams that had plagued her for weeks, the ones that left her waking in a cold sweat with her thighs pressed together and her heart pounding like a war drum.

But seeing it in those hazy visions was nothing compared to seeing it in the flesh.

Her gaze drifted lower, almost against her will.

And she gasped.

”Why is...” The words came out as barely a whisper. ”Why is that part of your body so big as well?”

Because there, hanging beneath his cock like two ripe fruits, were his testicles. They were heavy and full and impossibly large, each one easily the size of her fist. They looked dense, packed with something vital, as if they alone could—

’Impregnate an entire village.’ Her mind supplied unhelpfully. ’Several times over.’

The thought made her legs feel weak.

’How did the elves manage it?’

The elf women were so slender, so delicate. Their bodies were built for grace and lightness, for dancing through trees and singing to the stars.

Compared to warriors like her, they were practically fragile.

And yet all of them had taken this inside of them.

’What would it feel like if that went inside me?’

The thought came unbidden, and she shuddered at the flood of emotions it unleashed. Fear. Curiosity. A strange, aching heat that she didn’t dare name.

”Sigrid?”

She jumped.

Luca was waving a hand in front of her face.

”You still with me? You went somewhere for a second there.”

”Yes!” The word came out too loud, too fast. She cleared her throat and tried again. ”Yes, I’m here. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I was simply...observing. Taking note of...of the situation.”

She was babbling. She knew she was babbling. But somehow she couldn’t seem to stop.

Luca’s concerned expression softened into something more amused.

”Well, if you’re done observing...” He gestured vaguely toward his still-aching erection, which twitched as if to remind her of its presence.

”...the night air is rather cold, and I think it would be much better for my condition if this were surrounded by something warm.”

The implication landed like a hammer. Sigrid’s face went crimson to the tips of her ears.

But she nodded, because her mouth had apparently resigned from its duties, and leaned down toward him.

Then stopped.

The hesitation was written all over her. Luca noticed immediately.

”What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him, then back down at the object of her attention and pointed, very awkwardly, at his cock.

”It’s...a bit low.”

”...What?”

”Your penis.” She gestured with one finger, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. ”It’s all the way down there. And my mouth...”

She lifted her hand, traced a line from her lips to the empty air above his hips, and gave a small, helpless, mortified smile.

”My mouth is up here. I can’t bend that far. Not with this body. So...it won’t work.”