Chapter 906: Scars To The Heart

"Pucker!?~ Smooch!?~ Pucker!?~ Suck!?~"

The first kiss had been careful introduction to a new sensation.

This one was hungrier. More demanding. Cassius’s hand slid from her cheek to the back of her head, tangling in her wild black hair, pulling her closer with an urgency that made her gasp.

And then his other hand found her horn.

"Mmm—!" Ragnora whimpered into his mouth.

Her horns were sensitive—she’d known that since childhood. A gentle polish from Florence had always made her melt.

But this was different. This was Cassius’s fingers tracing the ridges and grooves, stroking the base where the horn met her skull, exploring the curved length with a tenderness that suggested he knew exactly what he was doing.

She tried to pull back—the sensation was almost too much—but Cassius’s grip on her head was firm.

’How is he doing that?’ A distant part of her mind wondered. ’How can he hold me in place? With my strength, I should be able to break free without even trying. But I can’t—I can’t move—’’

The thought was swept away by another wave of sensation as Cassius’s tongue found hers again.

"Mmm!?~ Mmm!?~ Kiss!?~ Mmm!?~ Slurp!?~"

He was more aggressive this time, more demanding.

He sucked and licked and explored with an intensity that left her dizzy. His fingers massaged her scalp through the thick tangles of her hair.

His other hand continued its assault on her horn, stroking the sensitive tip in a way that made sparks dance behind her closed eyelids.

Ragnora was being stimulated on all fronts. Her mouth, her scalp, her horns—every sensitive point was under siege, and she had no defenses against any of it.

’If an alarm went off right now.’ She thought hazily. ’If someone told me that multiple S-Class threats had emerged and my soldiers needed me...I don’t think I could stand up. My legs are too weak. My whole body is too weak. What has he done to me?!’

She knew the answer, of course. Cassius had done what no monster, no enemy, no force in the world had ever managed to do: he had completely and utterly undone her.

And she was loving every second of it!

’Isabelle is so lucky.’ She thought, not for the first time. ’She gets to experience this every day. Every night. Whenever she wants.’

’His kisses are so good that even women who already have partners and have been kissed a thousand times would abandon everything just for one taste of this.’

A part of her wished this would never end.

But another part knew that when Cassius leaves and goes back to his home, she’ll never experience anything like this again.

The thought was sobering. Painful, even. But it also filled her with a fierce determination.

’Then I should savor it! Every moment. Every touch. Every kiss. I should memorize it all so I can hold onto it forever!’

And with that resolution burning in her heart, Ragnora stopped being passive.

She wrapped her massive arms around Cassius’s back and pulled him closer. She could feel the warmth of him through his clothes, the solid reality of his presence.

He was so small compared to her, she could have enclosed him entirely in her embrace and yet he felt like the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly gone soft and hazy.

And then, hesitantly, she began to kiss him back.

"Kiss!?~ Kiss!?~ Mwah!?~ Kiss!?~ Nibble!?~"

Her tongue moved clumsily against his. She had no technique, no experience, no idea what she was supposed to be doing.

Saliva leaked from the corner of her mouth. She was probably doing it all wrong.

But Cassius made a small, encouraging sound against her lips, and she felt his grip on her hair loosen slightly—giving her room to explore, to experiment, to find her own rhythm.

’He’s letting me try. He’s letting me learn.’

The thought made her heart swell with something that felt dangerously close to affection.

She continued her clumsy exploration of his mouth, growing slightly more confident with each passing moment.

"Smooch!?~ Smooch!?~ Kiss!?~ Smooch!?~ Sip!?~"

Her tongue traced the edges of his teeth. Brushed against the roof of his mouth. Found his tongue and tangled with it in a shy dance.

And then she felt it.

His hand, the one that had been tracing down her spine was continuing lower until his palm pressed firmly against the swell of her butt.

"Nnnn?!?!" Ragnora jolted as though she’d been struck by lightning.

At the same moment, his other hand slid from her horn and found her breast...or tried to.

Her breast was so massive that his fingers couldn’t even span half of it, but he cupped what he could reach, his palm pressing against her through the fabric of her armor and cloak.

"Cassius!" She pulled back from the kiss, her face blazing with heat. "What are you—you can’t just—"

"This is also on the menu." Cassius said smoothly, not moving his hands. "We can add it to the bill later."

"The bill? This isn’t about the bill! You can’t just—my body isn’t—"

"Ragnora." His voice was calm, steady, utterly unruffled. "Do you want me to stop?"

She opened her mouth to say yes. To tell him that this was too much, too fast, too overwhelming.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Because the truth was, she didn’t want him to stop.

She wanted...she didn’t know what she wanted.

She’d never let herself imagine this far.

But now that his hands were on her, she found she couldn’t bear the thought of him pulling away.

"I..." She swallowed hard. "I don’t want you to stop."

"Good." His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Because neither do I."

And then he was kissing her again, and his hands were moving, and Ragnora let herself fall into the sensation completely.

His palm roamed across her ass—firm, elastic, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He squeezed experimentally, and the bounce was so powerful that he felt the reverberation travel up his arm. He smacked it lightly, just to see what would happen.

Smack!

The sound echoed through the room.

"Cassius!" Ragnora gasped against his lips.

"That sound." He murmured, his voice thick with appreciation. "That’s the most beautiful noise I’ve ever heard."

"You can’t just—"

Smack!

He smacked her again. The sound was even louder this time.

"Stop—"

Another smack.

"Cassius, please—"

"I’ll ask you again, do you actually want me to stop?" He paused, his hand resting on the curve of her ass, waiting.

Ragnora’s protest died in her throat because she didn’t want him to stop at all.

The spanking sent strange, thrilling sensations coursing through her body—nothing like the pain of battle wounds, but something sharper, sweeter, more electric.

She didn’t understand it. But she knew, with absolute certainty, that she wanted more.

"No." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "I...I don’t want you to stop."

"That’s what I thought."

His hand returned to her breast, fingers exploring the massive curve with reverent fascination.

He couldn’t grasp it fully, it was physically impossible with hands his size. So instead he roamed across the surface, tracing the shape of her, learning the feel of her.

His thumb found the edge of her nipple, already stiff beneath the fabric, and pressed down gently.

"Mmmm...." Ragnora whimpered.

Her mind was a storm of sensation, overloaded and overwhelmed.

She’d never experienced anything like this. Every touch, every caress, every gentle squeeze sent new waves of pleasure rolling through her body.

She felt like she was drowning in it. Like she was being consumed by it.

’This is what Isabelle gets every night.’ She thought dimly. ’This overwhelming sensation of being completely and utterly desired. No wonder she’s so eager to share him. No wonder she can’t get enough.’

’If this is what it feels like...I would never want it to stop either.’

Cassius, meanwhile, was thoroughly intoxicated.

’Gods above!’ He thought fervently. ’I wish I still had my tentacle ability. I need at least four more hands to properly appreciate this woman. There’s just so much of her. So much to touch. So much to kiss. So much to worship!’

He did his best with what he had. One hand kneaded her rear while the other explored her breast. His mouth never left hers, his tongue continuing its languid dance.

Ragnora was trembling now with her massive frame shaking with sensations she’d never experienced before. The sofa creaked ominously beneath them, struggling to contain the force of her movements.

And then Cassius made a decision.

His hand slid from her breast, down her stomach, around her side, and found the clasp of the armored garment that covered her back.

His fingers worked at the fastenings with ease—

And stopped.

Because beneath his fingertips, he felt something unexpected.

A groove...

A groove in her flesh so pronounced that he could trace its entire length through the fabric of her clothing.

And the moment he caressed it, Ragnora went rigid.

"No—" She gasped, pulling back from the kiss. "Cassius, no! Stop! Please stop!"

She scrambled backward on the sofa, her arms wrapping around herself in a protective embrace.

Her golden eyes, which had been hazy with pleasure moments before, were now wide with something that looked terribly like fear.

Cassius immediately withdrew his hands.

"Ragnora? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?" He looked down at his own fingers, a knot of guilt forming in his stomach. "I felt something on your back. A scar. Please tell me I didn’t touch an open wound—"

"No." Ragnora’s voice was tight, strained. "It’s not an open wound. It’s...it’s healed. It’s been healed for years."

"Then what—"

"It’s just..." She wrapped her fur coat tighter around herself, as though she were trying to disappear inside it.

"There are a lot of scars on my back, Cassius. More than you can imagine. I’ve accumulated them over decades of battle."

She touched her shoulder, her expression distant.

"My back is the worst of it. It’s where I took the most damage over the years—protecting my soldiers, shielding civilians, holding up collapsing mine shafts with my own body."

"The scars there...they didn’t heal properly. I wasn’t at my full strength back then, and the healers couldn’t completely repair the damage. So the scars stayed. Deep ones. Ugly ones."

Cassius’s voice was gentle. "Do they still hurt?"

"No. They don’t hurt anymore."

"Then why did you pull away?"

Ragnora was silent for a long moment. Then, in a voice so quiet he almost couldn’t hear it, she said:

"Because I didn’t want you to feel them."

"Feel them?"

"They’re disgusting." The words came out harsh and full of self-loathing. "A woman isn’t supposed to have a back like mine. She’s supposed to be smooth, unblemished, soft..."

"...My back is the opposite of all those things."

"Every time I look at it in the mirror, I feel sick. I can’t stand the sight of it. And I couldn’t bear the thought of you touching it and feeling those scars and being...being repulsed."

She pulled her coat even tighter.

"And I didn’t want you to see it. I didn’t want you to touch it. Because I knew—I knew—that the moment you felt those scars, you would be disgusted. You would pull away. You would look at me differently."

"And I...I couldn’t bear that, Cassius. I couldn’t bear watching the way you look at me change into something worse."

The silence stretched between them. Then Cassius spoke.

"Ragnora..."

He called out. And when she finally forced herself to look up, she found him gazing at her with an expression that made her heart stop.

"Ragnora." He said again. "How can you possibly believe that the scars on your back are something disgraceful? Something disgusting?"