Moonlight Ball - Chapter 162

Never before had Iris witnessed such a profound depletion of her mystical energies. Nay, it was as though she had, yet the memories eluded her grasp. Underneath Sidrain’s weight, she writhed, a vision of ethereal beauty, his lady fair.

“Hm? You are too kind,” Sidrain urgently urged, his voice tinged with a husky timbre.

Ah, yes! Unbeknownst to Iris, her hips lifted, a subtle entreaty for more. She was well aware of the forbidden nature of her desires, and yet, an insatiable longing consumed her being. Relentlessly, she rose, an unquenchable thirst for Sidrain consuming her. She veiled her countenance with handcuffs, their resonant clank reverberating above her.

“Are you embarrassed?” Sidrain inquired, his voice rough and ragged. As Iris lifted her gaze, she found him peering down at her.

“I am not ashamed,” she proclaimed, closing her eyes with fervor. The sound of Sidrain’s laughter reached her ears. Somehow, it carried an air of excitement, and involuntarily, Iris’s hips wriggled. She could not quell the fervor coursing through her body; she simply yearned for him.

Something primal stirred within Sidrain. Unconsciously, he moistened his lips. He desired to devour her, an intoxication akin to a potent elixir coursing through the veins of an addict.

Eek! Iris’s scream filled the air, the handcuffs clinking in accompaniment.

“My queen, I shall eagerly indulge your desires, wherever they may lead. Sidrain’s voice grew more explicit as he uttered those words.

“Anywhere, you say? Even in the filthiest of places. Even if my feet are steeped in mud, anywhere shall suffice. I shall lap and lick until my tongue is worn out, to the extent of your heart’s desire.”

“Please, cease… huh…” Iris trembled; her words caught in her throat. She felt it acutely, a sensation, unlike anything she had experienced before. The poised composure she always maintained eluded her; she struggled to catch her breath.

She was as desperate as he was. Her visage, once immaculate, is now in disarray. Was it, not she who had demanded rationale from him just yesterday, even as he wept? The woman who now stood before him was disheveled like a flower wilted and crumpled. Her mind throbbed, and her lower body tingled. The ache seared through her, threatening to shatter her very core. When Iris’s gaze met Sidrain’s, he extended his tongue, sensually gliding it over his own lips—a blatant invitation.

“May I enter you now? My head is throbbing,” he purred.

“S-Sidrain, it’s… too much.”

Iris quivered with fear, a fact Sidrain was well aware of. His possession burdened her greatly. Although she inhabited Rosemary’s body, one accustomed to the intricacies of pleasure, Iris herself lacked the finesse, forever grappling with their bond. Sidrain traced his tongue along Iris’s lips.

“Yes, I know it is substantial. My queen, too, is…” Sidrain shifted ever so slightly, prompting a breathless cry to escape Iris’s lips. It was a moan unlike any before, one that incited the primal instincts of a man.

“But, but…” she stammered, clutching desperately at the fraying strands of reason. Sidrain lowered his head.

Iris, my lady

Forget about everything else. Just as I have always done.

“If it causes you pain, I shall cease,” he pledged.

“But just a little, ah, ah!” With a resounding thud, Sidrain penetrated Iris to the hilt.

Strange moans reverberated in her ears, impossible to muffle. One of Iris’s arms was trapped in handcuffs, while Sidrain firmly grasped the other. Sidrain’s gloved hand glided over her, from top to bottom, savoring every inch.

“Beautiful, so damn beautiful. My lady, you’re a vision,” Sidrain murmured, his nose brushing against Iris’s face. The audacity of the gesture sent a shiver down their spines. Bestial instincts took over.

“Today, you’re really trying to drive me insane, huh?” Sidrain chuckled, with a self-deprecating edge to his laughter.

“Kiss me, right now.”

Iris shook her head in refusal, but Sidrain’s finger lightly brushed against her chest, a teasing touch that elicited a moan.

“Do it.”

Sidrain could not help but be consumed by his own emotions, despite her request for emotional restraint. There was nothing left between them but raw, unadulterated passion, Iris. That was the damn truth.

“Just once. Just a little taste, hmm?” Sidrain’s hips moved, his tongue provocatively poking out. At that moment, Iris couldn’t resist any longer, and she met Sidrain’s tongue with her own lips, their kiss a blend of vulnerability and desire. It was downright embarrassing. Sidrain released his grip on Iris’s hand, and her hips couldn’t stay still. Her body yearned for him, like a voracious flower, pulling him closer, desperate for more. The intensity of her desire threatened to drive Sidrain to madness. He had always felt a hunger, a desperate need, but now the day had come when Iris wanted him with such unrelenting fervor.

Ah, to die like this.

They said dying in ecstasy was a glorious way to go. And damn it all, they were right. Sidrain lost himself completely, fully immersed in the rapture of the moment.

Ah, to die like this.

****

Surprisingly, it did not hurt. Nay, it was exquisite! Her vision blurred into oblivion, and Iris could no longer discern the world before her. She did not know if she drew breath. In that moment, she felt as though she had transcended her mortal existence, morphing into a primal creature. The pleasure that engulfed her senses was overwhelming. Sidrain shook Iris with abandon, and she found herself unable to reclaim her senses.

Ah, ah, ahhh!

“Starting tomorrow, let us meet at the stroke of midnight,” King Clarance commanded, his voice tinged with a ravenous longing. Sethaung, his loyal servant, regarded the king with disdain.

“Midnight? Your Highness, I do not serve during those late hours,” Sethaung retorted.

“Lately, Iris is only awake during that time. If you seek my approval, you must come then,” the king explained, a glint of desire sparkling in his handsome countenance. Though he seldom emerged from the queen’s chambers, except to request a bath or a meal, the purpose of his seclusion remained a mystery. However, those with keen eyes couldn’t help but notice a marked improvement in his complexion. What secret elixir could he possess to bring forth such a transformation?

“I too slumber during those hours,” Sethang asserted.

The king’s response lacked any trace of mockery. “Adjust your sleeping schedule.”

His words carried sincerity—a genuine order for his servant to be at his disposal when midnight arrived. Sethang voiced his concerns with a sense of urgency. “People naturally rest at night.”

“You won’t perish if you sleep during the day,” the king retorted calmly, completing the final approvals and passing the documents to Sethang. Every aspect exuded authenticity. With a gesture, a steaming bath and a sumptuous meal materialized before them. The king glanced briefly at the laden tray before gripping the cart’s handle himself. It was known that, apart from the king, no one else could breach the barrier erected due to the queen’s depleted magical powers.

Within the palace, debates raged regarding the propriety of providing such luxuries to the king. Yet, his visage radiated with genuine joy and contentment.

“Clarence, join me at midnight, starting tomorrow,” the king insisted once more, pulling the cart as he retreated into the inner chambers. Rumors of the queen’s arrogance were soaring to new heights.

Just days ago, Duke Zeneth instigated the nobles in the Senate. It seemed that one in five had succumbed to his provocations, almost forgetting the incident with the magical fungus. Yet, the king himself appeared unfazed by his grip on the world slipping away. If they were privy to the rumors circulating within the Senate about the queen’s conduct, they would not remain silent. Sethang sighed, shaking his head. The audacity of those who refused to acknowledge their rightful place in the world was truly baffling.