Sophie couldn't stop trembling.
Kael's hands found the collar of her dress — simple cotton, nothing fancy, the kind of clothing a marginalized wife wore when no one cared what she looked like. His fingers hooked into the fabric and pulled.
"The door," Sophie gasped. "We should lock—"
"Wards." Kael's voice was low, distracted. "I activated them before you arrived. No one enters without my permission."
"You planned this."
"I planned for options." The collar slipped down her shoulders. "This is the one I chose."
The dress pooled at her feet.
Sophie stood in nothing but thin undergarments — pale skin glowing in the dim light, body trembling with a mixture of shame and desperate want. She was beautiful and she didn't know it. Lean curves, soft stomach, breasts that filled his palms perfectly when he reached up and cupped them through the thin fabric.
"Kael—"
"Quiet." His mouth found her neck.
Sophie's head fell back.
He kissed her throat. Each press of his lips was deliberate, mapped, owned. He worked his way down the column of her neck, licking the hollow of her throat, sucking a mark into the skin just above her collarbone that she'd have to hide for weeks.
She moaned.
Annnahhh!
"No one's touched you in six years," Kael murmured against her skin. It wasn't a question.
"N-no."
"Then you've forgotten what it feels like to be wanted." His teeth grazed her collarbone. "Let me remind you."
He peeled away her undergarments.
Sophie's hands flew up to cover herself.
Kael caught her wrists.
"Don't."
"I'm not—"
"You are." He held her wrists easily, pulling them away from her body, forcing her to stand exposed before him. His silver eyes traveled down her form with the same clinical precision he'd used earlier — but now there was heat beneath it. "Stop hiding. I told you, Sophie. I want to see you."
Her face burned.
But she let him look.
Kael released her wrists and lowered his mouth to her breast.
Sophie's knees buckled.
He caught her — one arm around her waist, holding her upright, while his tongue worked her nipple with devastating patience. Slow circles. Gentle suction. The occasional scrape of teeth that made her gasp and arch into him.
Six years.
Six years of nothing.
And now this boy — this child by the family's reckoning — was dismantling her with his mouth like she was something precious.
"Please," she whimpered. "Please, Kael, I can't—aaannhn"
"Don't worry, love." He switched to her other breast. "You will."
Kael pulled back.
His lips were wet. His eyes were dark.
"Spread your legs."
Sophie froze.
Her hands moved instinctively — crossing over her lower body, hiding herself from his gaze. The heat between her thighs was unbearable, her arousal obvious in the slick shine on her inner thighs, but the shame was stronger.
"I can't," she whispered. "It's too—"
"Sophie." His voice was soft. Dangerous. "I just had my mouth on your breasts. You've been moaning my name for ten minutes. Don't suddenly get shy."
"I know, but—"
"Look at me."
She raised her eyes.
Kael's expression was unreadable — except for his eyes. Those silver-flecked eyes that saw everything, that stripped her bare more effectively than any touch.
"I told you I want to see your beauty," he said quietly. "That includes all of you. Every part. Even the parts you think are ugly. Especially those parts."
Her hands trembled.
Slowly — so slowly — she lowered them.
Kael looked.
Then he smiled.
"There," he murmured. "Was that so hard?"
Sophie couldn't answer.
His hand slid down her stomach.
When his fingers found her, she sobbed.
Kael worked her slowly.
One finger at first — sliding through her wetness, finding the rhythm that made her breath hitch. Then a second, curling inside her, stroking a spot she'd almost forgotten existed.
"Ah—ah—Kael—"
"Good." His voice was low, approving. "Let me hear you."
She couldn't have stayed quiet if she'd tried.
Her moans filled the meditation room — shameless, desperate, building in pitch as his fingers moved faster. Her hips bucked against his hand. Her nails dug into his shoulders.
And then her hand found him.
She hadn't meant to. It was instinct — reaching for him, wanting to give back what he was giving her. Her fingers brushed the front of his trousers and froze.
He was hard.
Not just hard. Massive.
Sophie's eyes went wide.
"That's... that's not possible."
Kael laughed — a low, pleased sound. "It's very possible. You can thank the Vorn bloodline for that."
Her hand wrapped around him through the fabric.
He was thick. Long. Burning hot even through the cloth. She stroked experimentally and felt him twitch against her palm.
"Careful," Kael murmured. "I'm not as controlled as I look."
"I don't care."
"Then stop teasing and do something about it."
Sophie's fingers fumbled with his trousers. She pushed the fabric down and looked.
Her breath caught.
He was beautiful. Perfectly formed, flushed dark with arousal, standing rigid against his stomach. A bead of moisture glistened at the tip.
"Kael," she breathed. "You're..."
"Yours." He caught her wrist and guided her hand to him. "For now. Tonight. Yours."
She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked.
Kael's composure cracked — just slightly. A sharp intake of breath. A tightening of his jaw. The loss of control was intoxicating.
He feels this because of me, Sophie thought dizzily. I'm doing this to him.
"Lie down," Kael said.
She obeyed without thinking.
He positioned her on the meditation cushions, then shifted above her — knees beside her head, body inverted, face hovering above her exposed sex.
"Kael, what are you—"
His mouth touched her.
Sophie screamed.
His tongue was everywhere — licking, probing, devouring her with a hunger that matched her own desperation. She writhed beneath him, hips bucking, hands clutching at his thighs for purchase.
And then she felt his cock against her cheek.
An invitation.
Sophie turned her head and took him into her mouth.
He tasted clean — soap and salt and something uniquely masculine. She couldn't take all of him — he was too large — but she took what she could, swirling her tongue around the head, sucking gently, learning the shape of him.
Kael groaned against her folds.
The vibration made her shudder.
They found a rhythm — his mouth on her, her mouth on him, a feedback loop of pleasure that built and built and built until Sophie couldn't think anymore, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but feel.
Kael came first.
His body went rigid above her. A strangled sound escaped his throat. His cock pulsed against her tongue, and then—
Warmth flooded her mouth.
Thick, salty, copious. She swallowed instinctively, again and again, as he emptied himself with shuddering groans.
Sophie followed moments later.
The orgasm hit her like a tidal wave — starting in her core and radiating outward until her entire body convulsed. She moaned around his softening cock, back arching, toes curling, vision whiting out.
Kael's tongue worked her through it.
Every tremor. Every aftershock. Until she lay limp and trembling, completely destroyed.
He shifted, turning around, and knelt beside her.
"Show me."
Sophie blinked. "What?"
"Open your mouth."
She understood.
Her lips parted, revealing the remaining pool of white on her tongue. She'd swallowed most of it, but some lingered — a visible proof of what they'd done.
Kael's eyes darkened with satisfaction.
Sophie closed her mouth and swallowed.
Then she smiled.
It was a small smile. Shy. The smile of a woman who had finally been seen after years of invisibility.
Kael reached out and ruffled her hair.
"Good girl."
The words hit her harder than the orgasm.
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Kael stood and began dressing.
Sophie watched him from the cushions — body still tingling, mind still hazy, heart already aching at the loss of his warmth.
"We're stopping?" The disappointment in her voice was pathetic. She didn't care.
"Elena is coming."
Sophie blinked. "What?"
Kael buckled his trousers. "I can sense mana signatures within fifty meters. Your daughter just entered the east wing. She'll be here in approximately three minutes."
Sophie shot upright.
Three minutes.
She lunged for her discarded clothing, yanking the dress over her head with frantic movements. Her hair was a disaster. Her lips were swollen. She probably looked thoroughly fucked—
"Stop panicking." Kael tossed her a hairpin from the floor. "You look fine. Just... less flushed."
"How can I be less flushed? I just—"
"Deep breaths. Think about something boring. Tax policy. Supply manifests."
Sophie took a shaky breath.
Thought about supply manifests.
It worked. Mostly.
The door opened just as Sophie smoothed the last wrinkle from her dress.
Elena stood in the doorway, pale and worried.
"Mother? I was looking for you." Her too-large eyes swept the room — the meditation cushions, the faint scorch marks on the walls, Kael standing casually by the window. "Kael? What are you doing here?"
"Training," Kael said smoothly. "Your mother was kind enough to let me use her meditation room. The eastern ruins are being monitored by Marcus's people."
"Oh." Elena's brow furrowed. "But you broke through, right? I felt it. Why do you need more training?"
"Because Rank 7 isn't enough, love." Kael moved toward the door. "It's never enough. You should understand that better than anyone."
He paused beside Elena.
"Take care of your mother. She looks tired."
Then he was gone.
Elena turned to Sophie.
"Mother? Are you okay? Your face is red."
"Just... meditation heat," Sophie managed. "The room gets warm."
Elena studied her for a long moment.
Then she nodded — accepting the lie because she wanted to, not because she believed it.
"Come on. Nora's looking for you."
Sophie followed her daughter out of the room.
The taste of Kael's meat still lingered on her tongue.
[QUEST UPDATE]
The Seventh Wife's Devotion
Love Meter: 89 → 97/100
Final threshold approaching.