100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 578: Chapter 577- A Help from the Maid

The full, covering, comprehensive weight of a man above a woman in the grass — his forearms on either side of her head, his chest against her chest, his cock still inside her, the position changing from the riding arrangement to this one with the transition of a body that knew where it wanted to be and had moved there.

His face above hers.

She looked up at him.

At the violet eyes in the moonlight.

He kissed her.

Not gently. Not roughly. The specific, full, present kiss of a man who had decided to do it — his mouth on hers, the warm, deliberate pressure of it, his lips moving against hers with the unhurried, claiming thoroughness of someone who was doing something because he wanted to and had no questions about it.

She made a sound against his mouth.

Not a moan. The other kind — the small, involuntary, completely undefended sound of a woman being kissed who had not expected to be kissed and whose body had received it before her mind could form a response.

”Mnh~—”

He pulled back.

Looked at her face.

At the tears.

At the flush.

At the expression that was no longer only pain.

”Fine,” he said.

The word carrying the weight of a decision being made.

”I’ll give you so much money your brother never worries again.”

She stared at him.

”I—”

”But,” he said.

His hips moved.

The slow, deliberate, full withdrawal and return — the first genuine, unhurried thrust of a man who had been holding back and was not holding back anymore.

PAH!!

”AAANGHH~!!♡♡—”

”You lend me your womb,” he said.

Another thrust.

PAH PAH!!

”HAAHH~!!♡!! NGH~!!—”

”Permanently.”

She looked up at him.

”You become my exclusive—”

PAAH!!

”AAAAAANGHH~!!!♡♡♡—”

”—fuck mate.”

The words landing between thrusts. Between her screams. Between the wet, full, flesh-slapping sound of him inside her and the soft, cool grass at her back and the moonlight above them both.

”Please—” She was crying. Genuinely. The full, real, overwhelmed tears of a woman who was being fucked for the first time and offered a fortune for her brother and told she would be someone’s permanent possession simultaneously and whose nervous system had run out of capacity to process these things separately. ”Please— please be gentle— it hurts— please—’

He pressed her legs back.

Both of them — the full, deliberate fold of her legs back toward her chest, the mating press, the position that changed the angle and the depth and opened her to him in the comprehensive, unavoidable way that this position opened women.

PHACK!!

”AAAAAANGHH~!!!♡♡!! LORD~!! LORD~!! PLEASE~!!♡—”

’Lord.’

The word coming out of her without her deciding to say it — the involuntary honorific of a woman whose body had categorized something above the vocabulary she had been using.

Viktor heard it.

His mouth curved against her neck.

PAH PAH PAH PHACK!!

”KYAAANGHH~!!♡♡!! NNGH~!! LORD~!! YOUR COCK~!! IT’S TOO DEEP~!!♡ MY WHOLE BODY~!!♡—”

His hands pulled her dress down.

The fabric giving — not tearing, the deliberate, patient pull of a man removing something he had decided to remove, the neckline dragged down, the cloth bunching at her waist, her breasts freed into the moonlight.

Full.

Rounded. Not as large as Tina’s or Helviana’s, but present — the full, real, alive weight of them, the nipples dark and stiff in the cold night air, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

He sucked one.

The full, committed, mouth-covering suction of a man consuming something he wanted — his lips around her nipple, pulling, his tongue working the stiff point, her back arching up off the grass involuntarily.

”AAAHH~!!♡— NGH~— your mouth~!!♡— lord~!! lord please~!!♡—”

PAH PAH PAAH PAH!!

”AAANGHH~!!♡♡!! HAAANGHH~!! NGH~!! NGH~!! HIEKKK~!!♡—”

The garden filled with it.

The sounds — flesh on flesh, the wet, continuous, honest sound of her around him, her screams going into the night air over the garden wall, the crack of the bench when his foot found it, the damp-grass sound of her back on the ground, her heels against his back.

She had put her heels on his back.

She did not know when she had done this.

Her wrists still bound behind her, her dress around her waist, her tits in the moonlight, her heels on his back — pulling him, the honest, desperate, completely involuntary pull of legs that had decided they wanted him closer regardless of what the pain was saying.

”I’ll do anything~!!♡—” The words coming between screams. ”Anything— lord— please— anything you want~!!♡— just— AAANGHH~!!♡♡—”

PHACK PHACK!!

”AAAAAANGHH~!!!♡♡♡!! NIEENGHHTT~!!♡ HAAIYAANGH~!!—”

”Please be gentle~!!♡—”

He was not gentle.

He fucked her harder.

The full, committed, unhurried, nine-star-mage hardness of a man who had found what he wanted and was taking it thoroughly — each thrust driving her into the grass, the damp soil giving slightly under her back, her breasts swinging with each impact, her screams genuine and full-volume and entirely beyond her management.

Her body’s response.

The thing she had not been tracking, the thing she had been too overwhelmed to notice building — it arrived now, the wave of it, the specific, full-body, unwilled, completely genuine wave of a woman whose body had been built toward something by pain and fullness and the warm, sustained, relentless attention of someone who knew exactly where things were and had been applying himself.

”I’m—” She gasped. ”I’m— lord—I’m—’

PAAH PAH PAAH!!

”AAANGHH~!!♡♡!! NGH~!! NGH~!! HAAHH~!!♡♡—”

She came.

The full, shaking, deep, genuine orgasm of a virgin arriving at the end of her first real night — the walls of her pussy closing around him with the crushing, rhythmic grip of her body’s absolute, comprehensive honesty, her hips lifting off the grass, her back arching, her heels pressing him in.

PHACK!!

”AAAAAANGHH~!!!♡♡♡!! LORD~!!♡♡ LORD~!!♡♡—”

The scream going over the wall.

Into the night.

Into the capital glow on the horizon.

Viktor pressed deep and held.

The load — thick, warm, deep, the full, incubus-bloodline deposit of a nine-star mage’s seed entering a woman he had just claimed — pumping into her with each pulse, her walls receiving each one with the clenching, helpless, honest grip of a woman who could feel everything.

”Mnh~♡— mnh~♡— mnh~♡—”

The small, soft, continuous sounds of her receiving it.

Her body’s acceptance running in those sounds — each pulse producing the same small, involuntary, deeply honest moan.

He pulled out slowly.

The withdrawal — the warm, reluctant, body-remembering sound of her releasing him, her walls holding for a moment longer than physics required.

He looked at her.

She lay in the grass.

Her dress at her waist. Her tits in the moonlight. Her wrists still bound behind her, pressed into the earth beneath her back. Her hair spread in the damp grass. Her face — tear-streaked, flushed, breathing hard, carrying the particular expression of a woman who had arrived somewhere she had not planned to arrive and was still taking inventory of the new location.

The blood on her inner thigh.

His seed running out of her.

She looked at the night sky above them.

At the stars.

”My brother,” she said. Her voice raw. Not asking. Reminding. The voice of a woman who had not forgotten why she was here even through everything that had just happened.

Viktor looked at her.

”Eight years old,” he said. The confirmation of a man who had heard and filed.

”Yes.”

”Name?”

She looked at him.

”Tell me his name,” he said.

She told him.

The small, private name of a child in a village two days south — spoken in a garden in the dark, between a woman lying in the grass and a man standing over her with the moonlight on his cock and the capital glow at his back.

Viktor nodded.

Once.

”You would have to help me in something, a bit difficult, but I know you can pull it off.”