Tang Lanyan was, of course, unaware of what her former subordinates were thinking—though even if she knew, her fighting spirit would not waver. As a pure warrior and an Amazon Queen, her sole focus during battle was victory; no number of traps or obstacles could shake her resolve.
Thus, she had no intention of getting bogged down in a prolonged fight; instead, she sought to break through the encirclement and continue her escape. A lithe, snow-white figure darted away, sprinting to break through the encirclement, while two team members pursued relentlessly... The scene was reminiscent of the days when the "War Queen" led them in hunting down enemies.
Yet the reality was far different: these men had betrayed the Valkyrie they once revered, choosing instead to yield to their own desires—driven by lust to chase after the very object of their former devotion.
After a brief chase, the snow-white figure vanished without a trace. As they searched intently, the fever of lust driving the two men began to cool slightly.
After all, they were elite soldiers personally trained by the War Queen; their capabilities were truly top-tier.
They proceeded with greater caution, though such tactics appeared trivial in the eyes of Tang Lanyan...
A short while later, they decided to split up, keeping each other within sight—though inevitably, there were moments when their gazes drifted away.
In that split second, just as one member turned his head, he caught a faint scent—the aroma of fragrant sweat mingled with a subtle, musky muskiness—coming from... above!
He reacted instantly, leaping backward with lightning speed. Yet, despite his elite reflexes, he was a beat too slow. A snow-white figure pounced from the tree; as he looked up, he saw two shapely, rounded forms spreading wide, closing in on him like the wings of a butterfly.
In that fleeting instant, he realized they were not butterfly wings, but a pair of snow-white thighs—muscles taut and defined, exuding both athletic power and voluptuous roundness. Above them lay the distinct, firm curves of her buttocks—full and rounded, rivaling the size of large basketballs.
Between them lay a flat, alluring lower abdomen, utterly devoid of excess fat; the muscles there were similarly taut and defined, echoing the powerful, agile physique of a female panther. The vulva between her thighs appeared exceptionally plump and prominent; the two mounds of tender, fleshy lips—resembling rich, soft fat—were slightly parted, revealing a glistening sheen within the cleft where the inner labia, pressed together like delicate, youthful orchid petals, were faintly visible.
He noticed that the glistening moisture wasn't confined to the slit itself; the labia, the groove between her buttocks, and even her inner thighs were all slick and dewy, making it impossible to distinguish between sweat and her own aroused juices.
The next moment, a scent wafted over—a blend of orchid-like musk and a warm, musky, erotic aroma—accompanied by a few droplets of her fresh, aroused nectar.
His neck and the sides of his head were suddenly gripped tight; two firm, supple, and incredibly powerful thighs clamped around his skull like steel pincers, nearly cutting off his breath. Yet, his lips and nose experienced a different sensation: a mass of tender, voluptuous flesh—rich and smooth as creamy ointment—pressed against them, impossibly soft and succulent.
The crushing pressure on his head caused a searing pain that nearly made him lose consciousness, yet the slick, lubricated flesh pressing against his face—oily and smooth—evoked the sensation of a ripe, bursting fruit. In this near-zero-distance contact with the "Battle Queen's" intimate depths, the potent, almost tangible scent of musk and feminine muskiness—hot, humid, and alluring—seemed to flood directly into his nostrils.
It was no illusion; the slick, oily sensation was spreading across his face. With his nose pinned by her soft flesh and breathing difficult, he parted his lips; the tip of his tongue was instantly moistened, and he swallowed a small amount of her erotic nectar.
At the same time, as Tang Lanyan tightened and moved her thighs, the slick, wet flesh of her sex rubbed and pressed against his face. The friction between her labia and his lips, rich with fluid, created the uncanny illusion of a passionate, wet kiss with a lover. Caught in this sensation of contrasting extremes—hot and cold—the team member clamped his mouth over her lush, fleshy mound as if possessed. As his lips sealed around it, it felt just like biting into a plump, succulent peach; a sudden warmth washed over his face and chin as warm, slick juices—rich, musky, and arousing—sprayed from the parted folds.
"Ah...!"
Tang Lanyan's slender waist shuddered violently; she arched her beautiful back, her ample breasts swaying, and her legs suddenly went weak.
Sensing an opening, the team member struggled with all his might to break free, but within a single breath, Tang Lanyan regained her composure and clamped her legs shut once more.
Thinking fast, the team member thrust his tongue upward, sweeping it across her slick, tender folds. The inner labia felt firm yet yielding, and his tongue pressed forcefully against the sensitive nub at the top—a tender, resilient little bud, like a tiny pearl, that stood proudly erect.
Tang Lanyan shuddered as if struck by an electric shock; her lithe body trembled, and her legs lost their strength again. Realizing he had found her weak spot, the team member pressed his advantage, swirling, pressing, sweeping, and licking relentlessly.
That tender bud was buffeted about by his tongue, yet it remained stubbornly erect, trembling—and he could even feel it swelling larger.
"Don't... lick it!"
Tang Lanyan threw her head back, trembling; her legs could no longer hold her up. A wave of heavy, tingling numbness washed over her lower body, echoing the growing heat of the foreign object deep within her belly and draining away her strength.
At that moment, the team member gripped her legs firmly, ensuring she could not pull away. His wide mouth sucked voraciously, not only teasing her clitoris but also repeatedly sweeping over her labia minora, wreaking havoc amidst the lush, tender folds of her sex.
"Ah...!"
With a sharp, intense moan that carried a hint of a whimper, Tang Lanyan's lower body shuddered violently, and a sudden, hissing stream of fluid burst forth.
The team member felt a powerful jet of fluid surge from her slit—warm and fresh. It wasn't the usual sticky nectar, yet it lacked the pungent, acrid odor of urine; instead, it carried an incredibly alluring scent, like lychee pulp mixed with the fragrance of slightly decaying flower petals.
The stream hit the team member with such force it practically washed his face, yet he found it far from repulsive; instead, he felt an intense, heart-pounding rush of excitement.
As a member of the Lanyan Squad, who hadn't fantasized about such intimate contact with their captain?
Who hadn't fantasized about her perfect body—her massive breasts and her sex—leaving them with an erection so hard they couldn't sleep all night? She was uninhibited, too; on missions, she wouldn't go out of her way to find privacy just to relieve herself.
Out of respect, everyone pretended not to look, but who hadn't snuck a peek at the silver stream spurting from the cleft of those plump, firm, and voluptuous buttocks?
Who hadn't fantasized about seeing that lush, tender slit—tightly closed like a seashell—gushing urine right before their eyes?
Unable to hold back any longer, the team member shifted his grip on Tang Lanyan's shapely legs downward and was instantly stunned by the indescribable sight: between her wide-spread thighs, the plump, swollen, and supple lips of her sex were slightly parted, revealing a flushed, glistening pinkness that pulsed open and closed as if breathing. Between her delicate, soft, and tender labia minora, a tiny opening—no larger than a sesame seed—widened, and a silvery stream of fluid—tightly focused like a thread and without the slightest spray—shot forcefully outward.
At such close range, he didn't even spare a thought for the warm droplets of water dripping from his own eyelashes; instead, he gazed with insatiable greed at the breathtaking spectacle of Captain Lan Yan—once his idol and a veritable Valkyrie—ejaculating a stream of urine from her honeyed depths.
The silver stream splashed against his chest, fanning out upon impact; the force of it stirred his imagination, making him wonder just how tight the Captain's intimate passage must be, given such powerful musculature.
Perhaps he would soon get the chance to find out!