Back in the palace, Kaito returned to his modest chamber still buzzing with the aftershocks of what he'd done. He stripped off his soiled clothes, stepped into the steaming bath prepared by silent servants, and scrubbed himself clean, letting the hot water sluice away the sweat and spit and traces of her. When he emerged, he wrapped himself in a soft black robe—simple, comfortable, it felt like luxury at the moment however.
He didn't stay in his room for long. Still barefoot, hair still damp, he strode into the torch-lit hallway and stopped the first guard he saw.
"Take me to Givelle's private quarters," he said.
The guard—a tall, horned demon in plated armor—blinked once, then nodded stiffly and led the way through the winding corridors. They stopped before a set of double doors carved with twisting vines and thorns. The guard raised a gauntleted fist and knocked.
A soft voice answered from within. "Who is it?"
"It's me," Kaito called. "Kaito."
A faint, almost inaudible "Oh…" drifted through the wood.
The doors opened.
Givelle stood framed in the doorway, relaxed in a way Kaito had never seen. She wore deep purple robes of shimmering silk that draped her like liquid night. No crown sat on her head; her long dark hair spilled loose over her shoulders in glossy waves. The robe parted slightly at the front, the neckline loose enough to reveal the inner curves of her full breasts, pale skin glowing in the warm lamplight.
The guard's face flushed crimson beneath his helmet. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "My Queen… the summoned one—he asked to be brought to you."
Givelle's gaze flicked to the guard, cool and dismissive. "It's fine. You may leave."
The guard bowed so fast he nearly stumbled, then marched away at double time, boots echoing down the hall.
Kaito stepped inside. Givelle closed the heavy doors behind him with a quiet click.
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, pushing them up slightly. "What do you want now?"
Kaito let his eyes roam the room first—the opulence hit him like a wave. Vaulted ceiling painted with constellations of glowing red gems, a massive four-poster bed draped in black velvet and purple silk, golden incense burners trailing sweet smoke, shelves of ancient tomes and glittering artifacts. He walked straight to the bed, dropped onto the edge, and bounced once, testing the give of the mattress.
"I enjoyed our earlier session," he said casually. "But this time I want something else. I want to see your boobs."
Givelle's jaw tightened. "Haven't you done enough already?"
He met her eyes, smile slow and sharp. "I've barely done anything yet."
He leaned back on his elbows. "Strip."
She stood rigid for a long heartbeat, fingers flexing at her sides. The collar might be hidden, but the bond pulsed between them, undeniable. With a low, furious exhale she reached up, untied the sash, and let the purple robe slide open. It pooled at her feet in a soft heap.
Kaito's breath caught.
She was completely naked now—every inch of her a vision of devastating beauty. Full, heavy breasts sat high and proud on her chest, nipples dark pink and already pebbled in the cool air. Her stomach was toned, a gentle curve of muscle beneath smooth, flawless skin. Wide hips flared dramatically from her narrow waist, leading to thick, shapely thighs that pressed together just enough to frame the smooth, glistening mound of her pussy. The outer lips peeked out like soft petals, slightly parted, already slick with reluctant arousal.
She looked like a goddess carved from moonlight and sin. Kaito forgot how to breathe for several seconds.
"You look… so fucking amazing," he whispered, voice hoarse.
Givelle kept her expression stony, arms still crossed, refusing to acknowledge the compliment.
"Come to the bed," he said. "Join me."
Fear flashed across her face—quick, raw. "What are you going to do to me?"
"Relax," he told her. "I'm not going to fuck you. Not yet. I have other things in mind."
She hesitated, eyes searching his face for a lie, then slowly crossed the room and climbed onto the bed. She knelt beside him, tense, every muscle coiled.
Kaito reached out and cupped one breast. She startled, a small gasp escaping her. His palm was warm against her skin; he squeezed gently, then more firmly, marveling at the weight, the softness, the way it overflowed his hand. He rolled the nipple between thumb and forefinger, tweaking it lightly.
Givelle held herself still at first—jaw clenched, breathing shallow.
Then he pinched harder.
A tiny moan slipped out—soft, involuntary.
Kaito grinned. "There it is."
He leaned in and took the nipple into his mouth. He'd never done this before—never even touched a woman like this—and now he was sucking the breast of the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. The taste of her skin was faintly sweet, warm. He swirled his tongue, sucked harder, grazed with his teeth.
His cock hardened instantly beneath the robe, aching.
Givelle tried to stay silent, but the pleasure crept in anyway. Her breathing grew ragged. Small moans started escaping—low at first, then louder as he moved to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention.
He pulled back just enough to murmur against her skin. "You're such a slut, aren't you? Has anyone ever sucked these pretty tits before?"
She shook her head frantically, cheeks flaming. "No…"
Kaito chuckled. "Good. This is my first time too. Perfect match."
His free hand slid down her flat stomach, tracing the dip of her navel, then lower. When his fingers brushed the smooth mound of her pussy she shivered hard, a groan tearing from her throat. He circled the slick outer lips, teasing, then dragged a fingertip over her clit.
She jumped.
He did it again—slow, deliberate—enjoying every twitch, every sharp intake of breath.
He rubbed her clit in tight circles until it swelled under his touch, engorged and sensitive. "Has anyone ever fingered you before?"
"No," she whispered, voice trembling.
He teased her entrance—sliding just the tip of one finger inside. She cried out, half pleasure, half sharp sting.
He paused, letting her adjust, feeling her walls flutter around him. Then he pushed deeper.
Another cry—louder.
He added a second finger, stretching her slowly. She was tight, hot, soaking. He began to pump—gentle at first, then faster, curling his fingers to stroke that spot inside her that made her hips jerk.
Her moans grew desperate. Her chest heaved, sweat beading along her collarbone and between her breasts. Her thighs trembled, spreading wider without thought. Her whole body rocked with each thrust of his hand—breaths coming in short, frantic pants.
Then it hit her.
Her back arched violently. A choked scream ripped from her throat as her orgasm crashed through her. Her walls clamped down hard on his fingers, pulsing, gushing slick heat that coated his hand and dripped onto the sheets. She twitched and shuddered, hips bucking uncontrollably, face contorted in helpless ecstasy.
Kaito watched every second of it—memorizing the way her eyes rolled back, the way her mouth fell open, the violent tremors that shook her frame.
Before the aftershocks could fade, he yanked his robe open, shoved his pants down, and lined his throbbing cock with her still-quivering entrance.
He pushed in with one slow, relentless thrust.
Givelle gasped sharply—eyes flying wide, nails digging into the sheets—as he filled her completely.