Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1830: Curious Licks

"I want to feel him too. Why should he get all the... the doing?"

Kaelira bent, and put her mouth on him.

"’The doing,’" Sera repeated reverently, committing it to memory forever.

"Shut up..." Kaelira murmured against his skin, tongue out.

There was nothing tentative about what came next, only inexperience burning itself away in real time. She kissed his chest, dragged her lips along his collarbone, licked the salt of the day’s work off his skin and hummed at the taste, low and satisfied, the note she usually saved for good steel.

She found the pale old seams scattered across the sculpted plates of him and gave each the same grave attention he’d given hers. Her palms read the ridges of his stomach, the swell of his arms, the shift of muscle when he breathed, and her own breathing grew audibly less steady the further she mapped, and she kept going anyway, red to the ear-tips, entirely undeterred.

Quinlan lay in the moss under his shy elf’s blazing-eared inspection, smug as a dragon being appraised by exactly the right person.

It was when her explorations reached his waistband that the afternoon found its next lesson.

She got him free of the last of his clothes, sat back on her heels, and stilled completely, violet eyes fixed on the hefty shaft standing against his stomach.

"...Hm." The flush rolled down past her collarbones. "I’ve heard a lot about it..."

"Blossom?" Sera asked.

"What do you mean, ’Blossom?’" The healer elf was given the wryest of looks. "All of you keep going on and on about it, teasing me endlessly... Blossom speaks eagerly about ’Quinlan Junior’ but so are Lucille, Aurora, Kitsara and..." Her eyes narrowed. "You."

"...Me? I’d never tease my friend," Sera told the canopy warmly.

"Mhm."

"Alright, Kaeli, stop pouting at me like that, you’re way too adorable." The cheeky elf flowed up out of her lounging, shedding her dress along the way with a shrug the garment simply agreed to, and settled in at Kaelira’s side, warm skin against warm skin. She cracked her knuckles with theatrical ceremony. "Hearing isn’t the same as knowing. Which means it’s time for big sis to give you the practical portion, before you hurt yourself with enthusiasm. Watch closely."

While the gals were having their adorable little pouting warfare, Quinlan leaned back, hands behind his head, manhood ready, and just watched, far too content with his life right now.

"Look at the smugness~" Sera giggled.

"...He’s very happy," Kaelira replied, half looking at his grin, half at the eagerly waiting entity between his legs.

"Of course he is. Do you know why?" The question was theatrical, but its recipient answered nonetheless, ears twitching.

"The two of us are about to pamper him..."

"Right on~" Sera purred as she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock with the easy confidence of long practice, and her lecture voice was a purring, tilde-laced disgrace from the first syllable.

"Foundations first. I’ll be honest with you, Kaeli, I’m no Lucille. Nobody is Lucille. That woman is a natural phenomenon when it comes to the art of pleasing Quin with her mouth and the rest of us have made peace with it~ But I am very, very far from a rookie. So. Pressure at the base, like this, patience at the top. He pretends he’s above all of it, but the underside, just below the crown, right here..."

She demonstrated. Her lips closed over the crown, her tongue found the exact spot she’d just lectured about, and she sank down his length by slow, practiced degrees until her nose brushed his stomach, held there, humming, and drew back up slow.

*Pop.*

Her eyebrows arched at Kaelira in silent lecture.

Quinlan, the big bad Primordial Villain, terror of powerful rulers all across the continent, exhaled hard through his nose, betrayed by his own body, and both elves noted the sound with identical satisfaction, a theory just confirmed.

"See~?" Sera came back up looking unbearable. "Eye contact is optional but devastating."

"So it’s not optional," Kaelira noted, prompting Seraphiel to smile brightly.

"Indeed. If you’re competitive about it, then it’s not."

Seeing the determination on her friend’s face, she knew she was looking at a future great of the art of blowing. This girl would not rest until she mastered the technique.

So, instead of yapping more, knowing both her friend and lover were eagerly awaiting, she only added a few important tips. "Breathe through your nose. Mind the teeth. It’s okay to make sloppy sounds, that only makes him happier."

"Base pressure. Crown patience. Teeth... Sloppy." Kaelira nodded along, filing it all away. "Understood."

Then she gulped her nerves down, audibly, bent, and went to town.

*Slurp. Schlop.*

As technique went, it was a massacre.

She forgot the base almost immediately, applied patience nowhere at all, took him far too deep on the second pass, choked, and refused with visible fury to retreat a single centimeter, glaring up along his body as if daring him to comment. She did everything in the wrong order and some things in no known order.

*Glk...!*

Well, at least she got the sloppy part right.

But none of her shortcomings mattered, because what she lacked in craft she replaced with a sincerity so total it bordered on violence. Every drag of her mouth said it plainly: making this man feel good was the only job in the world.

Quinlan’s head went back into the moss, and his groan scattered birds off three tiers of branches.

"...I don’t believe this." Sera pressed a hand over her heart, mortally wounded. "It took me months of technique and refinement to get this over-pampered guy to make that sound for me."

Kaelira, mouth occupied, answered with a small, vicious hum of triumph.

It was a little after that, cheeks hollowed, eyes watering, thoroughly in over her head and refusing all rescue, that she did the thing neither of them expected.

She reached up, took both of Quinlan’s hands, and placed them on her ears.

"...Hold me here," she managed, barely above a whisper, not meeting his eyes at all. "Please."

The hollow went quiet in a way that had nothing to do with sound.

Her ears. The one part of her that had never once obeyed her. They had betrayed her at the forge in front of three hundred dwarves, betrayed her in the salon, betrayed her every single time he so much as looked at her warmly, broadcasting everything her face refused to sign.

A lifetime of hiding what she was had taught her to armor everything else, her expression, her voice, her hands. Never the ears. And every elf alive guarded them by instinct because of it.

She had just handed them over.

Quinlan’s hands closed around them with a gentleness that had no business belonging to hands his size, thumbs settling along the long ridges, and the sound Kaelira made around him at the contact was wrecked and grateful and shameless all at once. He held her exactly where she’d asked to be held, steady and certain, and she melted the rest of the way into him.

Sera watched her best friend hand over her oldest secret, and for once in her loud life commented absolutely nothing. ’This girl... She’s a player.’