NOVEL NEXT Chapter 562: The Priestesses (End)
Nessa's moan was muffled as she drank deeply, her lips sealed around him, her tongue swirling to catch every bit of the sacred release. "OHH… YES… IT'S TOO GOOD!" she shouted, her voice breaking as the excess spilled over, dripping onto her chest, staining the moonweave robe with its shimmering warmth. "WE DRANK IT ALL… YOUR HOLY LOAD IS OURS!" she declared proudly, her voice trembling with reverence as she licked her lips clean, her eyes locked on Mikhailis with a fierce, worshipful adoration.
The priestesses pulled back, their faces flushed, their lips and chins glistening with the remnants of his release. Their disheveled beauty was breathtaking—Talyra's silver hair clung to her sweat-slicked cheeks, her rounded ears twitching as she panted, her cave still dripping with her own arousal. Nessa's angular ears framed her face, her dark skin glowing with a primal radiance, her eyes glassy with satisfaction. They knelt before him, their bodies trembling with the aftershocks of their passion, their robes stained and clinging to their curves, a testament to their shared ecstasy.
Mikhailis's hands cupped their faces, his thumbs brushing gently over their lips, wiping away the last traces of his load. "You're… divine…" he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with emotion. "Your devotion… it's overwhelming…"
Talyra smiled, her voice a reverent whisper. "Your holy load… it's a blessing… we want more, Your Highness…" Nessa nodded, her eyes shining with need. "We drank it all… but we'll always crave you…" Their words were a vow, their bodies pressed close, their arousal a living flame that seemed to pulse in time with the Grove's heartbeat.
The chamber fell silent, the air still thick with the scent of their passion, the moss beneath them soaked with their mingled fluids. The Breathing Library watched, its shelves humming softly, as if sealing their bond in its ancient memory, a forbidden tale woven into the roots of the sacred Grove.
The Breathing Library's air still thrummed with the lingering heat of their forbidden rite, the moss beneath Mikhailis, Talyra, and Nessa damp with the remnants of their passion. The priestesses' disheveled beauty glowed in the soft lantern light, their dark skin sheened with sweat, silver hair cascading in wild tangles. Talyra's rounded elven ears twitched faintly, her full lips parted as she caught her breath, her moonweave robe clinging to her curves, stained with the glistening evidence of Mikhailis's holy load. Nessa's angular ears framed her face, her eyes still hazy with desire, her robe similarly askew, the lace beneath damp and translucent. The scent of their arousal—musky, sweet, and primal—mingled with the faint floral tang of starwater, enveloping the trio in a cocoon of intimacy. The Grove itself seemed to pulse in approval, its roots vibrating softly, as if savoring the sacred bond they'd woven.
Mikhailis's strong hands rested on their waists, his breath still heavy, his length softening but still tingling from their fervent worship. Talyra leaned in, her lips brushing his ear, her voice a husky whisper. "Slrp… Your Highness… I can still taste your holy load…" Her tongue flicked out, teasing his earlobe, eliciting a low groan from him as her hand grazed his thigh, her fingers brushing dangerously close to his length. Nessa's eyes gleamed with renewed hunger, her body shifting closer, her lips parting as she murmured, "Mmm… I want more… let's offer ourselves again…" Her hand slid up his chest, nails grazing his skin through the open folds of his robe, her cave already slick with anticipation, a faint drip trailing down her thigh.
The air crackled with the promise of another round, their bodies pressing closer, the "slap… slap…" of their earlier union still echoing in their minds. Mikhailis's hands tightened on their hips, his lips curling into a hungry smile as he leaned toward Talyra, ready to claim her mouth again. But then, a sharp creak sliced through the humid air—a heavy, deliberate groan of wood and iron. The unmistakable sound of the library's massive door beginning to open.
Talyra's eyes widened, her breath catching as she froze. "The Saintess!" she hissed, her voice a panicked whisper, her rounded ears twitching wildly. Nessa's head snapped toward the sound, her angular ears sharp against her flushed face. "It's Saintess Myria!" she whispered urgently, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and adrenaline. The priestesses exchanged a glance, their arousal momentarily eclipsed by the threat of discovery in this sacred, forbidden moment.
With practiced grace, Talyra and Nessa sprang into action, their movements swift and fluid despite the trembling in their limbs. Talyra's fingers glowed faintly, a soft silver light emanating as she murmured an incantation under her breath. The air shimmered around her, and the glistening trails of Mikhailis's holy load on her thighs vanished, the slick residue absorbed by the delicate magic woven into her moonweave robe. The fabric, though still damp, smoothed itself, the stains fading as if they'd never been. Her lace undergarments shifted back into place, clinging to her curves but now pristine, the evidence of their passion erased. "Quick… we mustn't be seen like this…" she muttered, her voice low but urgent as she adjusted her robe, tucking her silver hair behind her ears to restore some semblance of order.
Nessa followed suit, her own hands glowing with a faint emerald light as she invoked a similar spell. The sticky remnants of Mikhailis's load on her thighs and chest disappeared, her robe snapping back into its proper shape, the lace beneath settling neatly against her skin. Her angular ears twitched as she worked, her fingers deftly smoothing the fabric. "Your Highness… your robe…" she whispered, her eyes darting to Mikhailis's disheveled state. His robes hung open, stained with sweat and faint traces of their fluids, his length still partially exposed.
The priestesses moved as one, their hands gentle but hurried as they helped him. Talyra's fingers tugged at the folds of his robe, pulling them closed, her touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary, a flicker of desire still burning in her eyes. "Slrp… we'll finish this later…" she murmured, her voice a promise as she smoothed the fabric over his chest. Nessa's hands worked lower, tucking his length back into his robe with a teasing brush of her fingers, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Mikhailis. "Mmm… stay calm, Your Highness…" she whispered, her lips curving into a secretive smile as she adjusted the belt at his waist.
The creak of the door grew louder, the heavy wood groaning as it swung inward. The trio scrambled to the nearest shelf, Talyra snatching a leather-bound tome from the pulsing wood, its cover etched with glowing runes. Nessa grabbed another, flipping it open to a random page as she settled onto a moss-woven cushion, her posture suddenly prim and studious. Mikhailis sank beside them, his heart still pounding, his robe now neatly arranged, though the heat of their earlier passion still lingered in his veins. He picked up a third book, holding it open as if engrossed, his fingers gripping the pages a little too tightly.
The priestesses leaned in, their voices dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as they began a feigned discussion. "This passage… it speaks of the Grove's ancient rites," Talyra said, her tone measured, though her eyes flicked nervously toward the door. "The way the roots channel starwater… it's fascinating, don't you think, Your Highness?" Her rounded ears twitched slightly, betraying her lingering arousal, but her face was a mask of scholarly interest.
Nessa nodded, her angular ears still as she turned a page, her voice calm but with a faint tremor. "Yes, and the way the shelves breathe… it's like they're alive, guiding us to the knowledge we seek." She glanced at Mikhailis, her lips twitching with a suppressed smile, the memory of his holy load still fresh on her tongue. "What do you think, Your Highness? Does the text resonate with you?"
Mikhailis cleared his throat, forcing his voice to steady as he nodded, his eyes fixed on the meaningless runes before him. "It's… profound," he said, his voice low, the heat of their earlier intimacy still burning beneath his composed exterior. "The Grove's secrets are… overwhelming." His fingers tightened on the book, his mind flashing to the slick warmth of their caves, the "slrp… squelch…" of their passion, now hidden behind this fragile facade.
The door creaked fully open, and a figure stepped into the chamber, her presence commanding even in the dim light. Saintess Myria, her golden hair glowing like a halo, her robes pristine and flowing, surveyed the scene with piercing eyes. The air seemed to still, the Grove's pulse slowing as if in deference to her authority. Talyra and Nessa straightened, their books held higher, their expressions serene but their hearts racing.
"Ah, Saintess Myria," Talyra said, her voice smooth and reverent, though a faint flush lingered on her cheeks.
"Saintess Myria," Nessa echoed, her tone equally composed, her angular ears betraying a slight twitch as she closed her book with a soft thud.
Mikhailis inclined his head, his voice steady despite the fire still smoldering in his veins. "Saintess Myria," he said, his eyes meeting hers, the weight of their secret bond hidden behind a mask of calm discussion, the Breathing Library their silent accomplice.