Paaakh… Paaakh!
In a spacious and luxurious room adorned with engravings barely visible in the deep darkness, only a faint light came from crystal chandeliers.
A dense, sensual, intoxicating aroma filled the room, especially around the large, opulent bed draped with canopies and sheer curtains, offering just a glimpse of what was happening on the bed.
Aaaaaaanh~~ fuuuuck more like Hardeeerr~aaanh!
A seductive, lustful moan came from the bed, along with the sound of flesh colliding and feminine whispers capable of arousing even the strongest men, even monks.
On the bed, the woman's slender fingers, painted white, gripped the sheets tightly. Her fingers were delicate, milk-white, with faint green veins visible beneath the skin.
Her hair was thick, wavy, and purple, beautifully styled. It framed her flushed, eager face, which longed to be taken further. She shook her plush face against the sheets repeatedly, revealing the expression of pleasure and ecstasy. She was stunningly beautiful and enchanting. Her silver eyes shone softly in the dim room, adding a captivating charm.
Her white-painted toes curled from the intensity of sexual pleasure mixed with slight pain. A golden anklet adorned her ankle, and a delicate golden mesh over her thighs accentuated her beauty and added charm.
She lay prone on her stomach in the prone-bone position, her rosy lips clasping the large penis that entered her repeatedly from behind, creating the sound of flesh colliding.
Her arousal came from the young man above her, who was also gasping and moaning in pleasure. He thrust his penis into the deepest part of her warm body, as if attempting fertilization.
His eyes focused on every small detail of her, devouring her with his gaze, as if she were his engine and fuel. Her uneven breathing, warm sighs, and the saliva dripping onto his hand gripping her neck all fueled him.
His veiny Dick Throbbed more, and with spontaneity and heat, he ejaculated deeply into her womb. The woman moaned from the intensity of both pleasure and pain: "Aaannnaah~mmmn!"
The dim light in the room slightly revealed the scene, giving it a special aesthetic. The young man sat on an embroidered velvet chair, staring at the bed where the woman sat with her legs spread.
White semen emerged between her labia. Her current state exuded power and restraint, unlike before when the young man was on top of her.
Their intimate session lasted several hours and had now ended.
She spoke in a calm, feminine voice as her fingers traced lines across her chest:
"Your hair is growing… why don't I cut it for you?"
The young man smiled at her. On the side table was a cup with a clear liquid. He picked it up, looked at it with a deep gaze, and drank it down completely.
"I think my hair is fine like this. You like playing with it," he replied after finishing the drink.
She smiled, her cherry-red lips curling, "How long has it been… ten years? I still remember the moment my eyes fell on you, and I chose you… my private Male Concubine."
He chuckled softly, "Seems so. I was young, yet you showed no mercy—making me screw you night after night… so cruel! But still am doing the King's Job!"
She gazed at him with her enchanting eyes, as if ready to devour him. In a calm tone, she said, "Don't blame me. The blame lies with you barbarians. Who would think someone like you, back then, would have grown like this?"
She smiled, reminiscing about moments from ten years ago: "That look, especially since they took you to the palace… I still remember that cruel, unbreakable gaze. That's why I chose you." She laughed lightly, sarcastically, then added, "And you were the most handsome in the palace. Do you know how much effort I put into taking you for myself from among all the king's consorts?"
He smirked with sarcasm. "What a king… who lets his consorts claim someone for themselves. Even the king couldn't touch them."
She didn't reply but kept her smile. "Ten years, then! You weren't as I thought. Behind that harsh look was an even harsher reality. I never imagined you'd grow into this."
It took her only a few seconds to say firmly, "No! You've been like this since I first laid eyes on you. Are all barbarians like this, or are you different? Even your build is slightly distinct."
The young man replied nonchalantly, "Beyond the harsh mountains, impossible for anyone to cross because of their rough terrain and lurking beasts, barbarians are ordinary people. Their concern is only survival. The harsh climate and environment forced them to develop skills to adapt, which made their bodies massive, sculpted, and superhumanly strong. Their features are beautiful too."
"Savage beauty!"
"Most are quick-tempered, but they are tolerant toward their own. Their moments of joy and laughter are rare, so they cherish them forever. They live by hunting; farming is impossible, but they are content. Life is tough; most marry early, at fifteen. Yet most children die at birth due to harsh conditions. Despite everything, they never abandon their land—they are barbarians, and no one would accept them otherwise."
He paused, tone turning cold, "But what made their lives harder was your arrival. Your soldiers crossed those harsh terrains to reach the barbarian lands. Though they were of no use to you—too wild to control—they defended their home and killed many of you. Your advanced weapons and sheer numbers allowed you to conquer some tribes. That's why we barbarians are nothing to you—you enslaved us, sold us, raped our women, and sent our men to the army and dangerous missions as cannon fodder."
She laughed lightly, her delicate finger in the air pointing to him as if sketching the scene, "But you're not like them. Not ordinary. You share no fate with them. Only a few in this world get the chance to be a consort of the king's wives. You can be with the most beautiful and powerful women of this world. But that doesn't apply to you—you are only mine."
The young man rose from the chair, his features emerging clearly. Tall, broad, athletic—veins faintly visible under his abdominal muscles from their recent exertion. His black hair, sculpted face, and symmetrical features gave him a commanding presence. His dark, mysterious eyes carried a wild touch.
He approached her and placed his hand on her right cheek. She leaned into it, closing her eyes, feeling the security and warmth, and smiled unconsciously.
He gazed at her, smiling, and said, "What a king… even he couldn't have you, his own wife. Perhaps he has strange complexes and fantasies?"
She replied softly, feeling his hand, "You could say those are old customs."
He laughed with curiosity and sarcasm, "Old customs? Perhaps the king simply didn't have the qualifications—those that allow him to spend time with this type of women."
He thought carefully—what kind of women? As if mocking himself, His eyes followed hers, still feeling the warmth of his hand on her cheek. Despite their long history, he knew this type of woman was dangerous. Despite the current situation, despite her femininity and beauty, she was not ordinary.
No one in this world was ordinary. Cyn knew the truth and did not ignore it, though he did not make it a priority.
Her eyes opened, gleaming softly in silver light. She glanced at something near the left side of his chest, then quickly at something around his neck.
It was not a necklace, but a key.
She said with ease, "So I'm your partner in crime now?"
The young man smiled. His eyes moved from hers to her lips, to her neck, to her chest, and down to her abdomen—toward her Pink Pussy, drunched in his semen, the scene an artwork he had created himself.
He answered with a smile,
" You're my crime scene!"