The aftermath of the assassination attempt left Vortigern Castle in controlled chaos. Guards swarmed the private solar, hauling away beastkin corpses while mages scanned for lingering dark magic. Baron Vortigern himself arrived minutes later, face thunderous, his armored form filling the doorway as he embraced his trembling wife.
"By the gods, Elena," he murmured, using her first name — a rare intimacy. "If not for this adventurer…"
The baroness, Elena Vortigern, clung to her husband briefly, but her violet eyes kept drifting to Ethan. The claim had taken full root during the fight — his heroic dominance pushing her over the edge. Her gown was torn, exposing more of her porcelain skin and the upper swells of her massive breasts, but she made no effort to cover up, her body still humming with unfulfilled need from their interrupted foreplay.
Ethan stood calmly, wiping blood from his sword. "Just in the right place, my lord. The insignia on them — Veilborn Syndicate. They're bolder than we thought."
Vortigern nodded grimly, his graying beard twitching. "We've heard whispers. Traitors in the shadows, stirring beastkin and demons. You saved my wife… my legacy. Name your reward."
Elena interjected softly, voice steady despite the flush on her cheeks. "Husband, perhaps a private audience later. To… discuss details."
The baron agreed, dismissing Ethan with a heavy purse and promise of guild promotion. "Return tomorrow. We'll plan the counterstrike."
But Elena's eyes promised more.
That night, back at the inn, Ethan debriefed Mira and Elara. The women had returned with intel: merchant whispers of syndicate recruiters in the undercity, healer enclave confirming demonic traces in Thalor crystals matching the assassins' amulets.
Mira paced, her scout instincts fired up. "They're targeting alliances — elves, humans. Lirael's safe at the embassy, but if they hit the baroness…"
Elara nodded, hands glowing as she healed a minor scratch on Ethan's arm. "The portal leaks are worsening. We need to strike a cell soon."
Ethan pulled them close, but kept it brief — a deep kiss each, fingers teasing but not satisfying. "Rest. Tomorrow, You two scout the undercity for syndicate leads while I… handle Elena."
They obeyed, curling against him in bed, but sleep came slow .
Morning brought a new messenger: Elena's seal, requesting a "discreet midday meeting" in the castle gardens. Ethan arrived alone, as planned.
The gardens were a lush oasis behind high walls: blooming roses, marble fountains, secluded alcoves shaded by ancient oaks. Elena waited in one such alcove, her raven hair pinned elegantly, wearing a lighter gown — flowing blue silk that hugged her hourglass figure, the bodice laced loosely to tease cleavage.
"Ethan," she breathed, standing as he approached. Her composure cracked immediately — cheeks flushing, thighs shifting as the claim ignited. "I… couldn't wait for formalities. Yesterday, you saved me… but more than that, you awakened something."
He stepped close, cupping her chin. "Tell me your story, Elena. Before I take what's mine."
She leaned into his touch, eyes softening. "I was a merchant's daughter, married to Vortigern for alliance. He's kind, but duty-bound — our bed is cold, our heirs grown and gone. I've ruled at his side for twenty years, managing the court's intrigues, but inside… I'm empty. Until you. You felt like fulfilment, command like a king. I want… I need to feel alive."
Her vulnerability touched something in Ethan — not just lust, but respect. This wasn't a mindless conquest; a woman trapped in power's cage, seeking liberation.
He kissed her then — slow at first, building to hunger. She moaned, pressing her massive breasts against him, hands clutching his tunic.
"Take me," she whispered. "Here. Now. Make me forget my vows."
Ethan's dominance surged. He spun her against the oak tree, yanking her gown's laces loose. The fabric parted, exposing her heavy tits — full and pendulous, pink nipples stiff and begging. He mauled them roughly — pinching, twisting, sucking one deep while slapping the other lightly, making them jiggle.
Elena cried out, head falling back. "Yes… gods, your mouth… my husband never…"
He bit her nipple hard, eliciting a squeal. "Because he's weak. This body was made for a real man."
He dropped to his knees, hiking her gown high. No panties — her shaved pussy was already drenched, lips swollen and glistening. The scent of her arousal — sweet and musky — filled the air.
"Look at this noble cunt," he growled, spreading her wide. "Dripping like a common whore. Beg me to taste it."
"Please… lick my married pussy… make me squirt like a slut…"
He dove in — tongue lashing her clit in circles, then flat broad strokes up her slit. She bucked, hands in his hair, grinding against his face. He sucked her clit hard, two fingers plunging deep, curling to hit her G-spot.
Elena came fast — screaming into her fist as she squirted in hot spurts, soaking his chin and shirt. "Fuuuck… I've never… squirted before…"
He didn't stop — finger-fucking her through it, adding a third finger to stretch her. She came again, legs shaking, juices puddling on the grass.
Standing, he freed his massive cock — thick, veiny, precum dripping. Elena's eyes widened. "So big… your size…"
"On your knees, baroness. Worship the cock that owns you now."
She dropped eagerly, the mighty noble on her knees in dirt. She licked him base to tip, tasting her own juices, then took him deep — gagging, drooling, eyes watering as she bobbed sloppily.
Ethan gripped her hair, face-fucking her. "Choke on it, you cheating milf. Your lord husband would die seeing his wife gagging like a tavern whore."
She came untouched from the degradation — pussy clenching, squirting on the ground.
He pulled her up, bending her over a marble bench. "Spread that ass. Show me your holes."
She obeyed, reaching back to spread wide — pussy and tight asshole exposed. Ethan spat on her cunt, rubbing it in, then slammed home in one thrust.
Elena screamed, back arching. "Yes! Wreck my noble pussy… breed me raw!"
He pounded her mercilessly — hips slapping her ass, making it ripple. Each thrust bottomed out, head battering her cervix. He spanked her hard — red prints blooming — while thumbing her asshole.
"Whose cum-dump are you?" he snarled.
"Yours! Breed your baroness slut… fill me with seed… knock me up!"
He flipped her onto her back on the bench, legs over shoulders in a deep press. Now face-to-face, he fucked her slow and deep — grinding, stirring her insides. Her tits bounced wildly; he mauled them, pinching nipples until she sobbed.
She came three times — squirting arcs that soaked his abs, pussy clamping like a vice.
"Cum inside… please… make me your breeding bitch!"
Ethan roared, burying deep and exploding — rope after thick rope flooding her womb, overflowing as he thrust through it. She came hardest yet, nails raking his arms, body convulsing.
He pumped until empty, then pulled out — cum gushing from her gaping hole.
Elena lay wrecked, tears of bliss streaming. "I… I feel free. For the first time."
Ethan held her, kissing her forehead. "You're mine now. But tell me — the syndicate. What do you know?"
She nestled against him, voice soft. "A traitor in our court. Lord Kael — my husband's advisor. Whispers of meetings with beastkin. He's Veilborn."
Ethan's eyes hardened. The hunt had a target.
[Milf Acquired: Elena Vortigern (Baroness, Married)]
[+200 Vitality | +150 Charm | Skill Unlocked: Noble Command (Passive – Influence over courts/allies)]
[NTR Bonus x6: Filth from Noble mouth Multiplier]
[+600 Power | Loyalty Imprint: Permanent | Political Access: Eldoria Castle Unlocked]
Back at the inn, Mira and Elara waited with more intel: undercity syndicate cell located, tied to Kael.
Ethan pulled them into a group hug. "We take him down tomorrow. Together."
Mira kissed him. "We're stronger with you."
Elara nodded. "A family."
Sisterly whispers between the women as they planned, jealousy absent, replaced by shared purpose.
But Kael wasn't alone. Syndicate shadows stirred.
To be continued…