Chapter 739: Alone with Isolde

"Well, hello there? I see you were doing something naughty here..." Elion said as he stepped into the secluded room.

The small flame flickering in the corner cast dancing shadows, illuminating her mortified expression.

He realized he’d forgotten to provide a proper mattress... perhaps that was why she’d had trouble sleeping. Or maybe, just maybe, she’d been listening to him pounding Tessa and Mira the whole time.

He closed the stone wall behind him, sealing them in the space, and stopped before her at the edge of the solid stone platform. He looked down at the flustered elf as she squirmed, unable to find a comfortable position under his gaze.

Now wasn’t this just the perfect opportunity?

He was achingly blueballed after the long session with Mira and Tessa, so he hadn’t been able to quite take the edge off. And here was Isolde, clearly horny as well. Would he still be a man if he didn’t help her sate it?

Her amethyst eyes kept flickering up to him nervously before darting away. He sat down beside her on the cool stone.

Without a word, he reached an arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her sideways until her head rested against his side. She stiffened for a moment, then melted into the contact with a shaky sigh.

"You don’t have to do it yourself, you know... That’s what I’m here for. As your man, it’s my job to take care of those needs for you."

Isolde’s entire face turned a deep, spectacular crimson. A soft, comical puff of steam seemed to erupt from the top of her head, as if her embarrassment had reached a boiling point.

Elion couldn’t help it. A warm laugh escaped him, the sound echoing softly in the small room. He held her closer on his side.

"You’re so adorable when you’re flustered... but you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Desire is completely natural... beautiful, even."

Isolde trembled in his arms, a fresh wave of scalding embarrassment washing over her. Elion simply smiled.

"Anyway, are you ready?" he asked softly.

She knew what he meant, of course. But suddenly, the same old hesitation came flooding back, stronger than ever, especially after being caught in such a vulnerable moment.

’He must think I’m a loose woman now!’ she screamed inwardly. ’Why did I have to go and do something like that while he was right in the other room?’

Never in her life had she touched herself like that. But in the heat of the moment, listening to those muffled cries and rhythmic impacts, feeling the unfamiliar ache bloom between her own thighs... it had felt so good, so good, in fact, that she wondered why she’d never done it before.

Between the clinical sex education classes from her youth, Mira’s shameless, giggling ramblings, and that one time she’d accidentally spied on Elion and Nurse Beatrice through the door, she could say she had knowledge.

But knowledge wasn’t the same as being ready. It did nothing to curb the nervous flutter in her stomach or ease the fear of being seen as wanton.

The memory suddenly resurfaced: the two rough men chasing her in the darkness of night, their leering faces, the panic, the sheer helplessness.

Her breathing hitched. Hadn’t she sworn to herself, in that terrified moment, that she wouldn’t hesitate anymore? That she wouldn’t let fear steal her choices?

And yet, here she was... Hesitating and hiding from her desire. Suddenly, she felt disappointed in herself.

’I’m so stupid...’

A sudden, fierce frustration boiled up inside her.

’Ahhhh!’ she screamed inwardly, clenching both hands into tight fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms.

With a sharp, determined nod to herself, she pulled away from his shoulder and turned to look him directly in the eyes. The usual shyness was gone, burned away by a newfound resolve.

"I’m ready," she said in a firm and clear voice.

Elion was momentarily stunned by the certainty shining in her gaze. Rarely did he ever see such unwavering resolve from Isolde. But it made his heart swell with a fierce, proud warmth.

This wasn’t just acquiescence. This was her choice, made freely and bravely because of her desire to be with him.

"That’s all you needed to say," Elion murmured, his smile softening into a tender smirk. He got to his feet unhurriedly and stopped in front of her.

He knelt down on one knee and placed a palm on her warm, tender cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb as they looked into each other’s eyes.

She turned her head into his cheek as he stroked her, closing her eyes briefly as his thumb touched her plump, red lips, pulling the lower one down to gaze at her white teeth.

Her attire was still a bit ruffled from the journey, but she looked breathtakingly beautiful to him.

He placed his other hand on her slim, soft thigh, resting it on the uncovered gap of skin between her skirt and her thigh-length socks. Her skin felt incredibly warm.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, getting up while pursing his lips. He pulled her into a kiss.

Their lips touched softly and tentatively at first. They parted a few inches, then kissed again, creating a soft, wet click between the plushness of their mouths.

Isolde shuddered and breathed into his mouth, closing her eyes between the kisses, until she suddenly felt Elion’s soft tongue prying her lips apart, seeking to invade.

Without putting up any resistance, she let him in, focusing on the sensation of his tongue exploring the cavern of her mouth. His tongue swirled in a slow, circular motion, tasting her and mapping every inch.

With their lips sealed together on the outside, she remained passive, letting him do as he pleased. He was forced to nudge her tongue from its resting place with his own, as if challenging it to battle.

It took her a moment, but Isolde eventually understood what he wanted. Her tongue grew active, swirling in sync with Elion’s, tangling around each other as they began to duel in earnest.

In the heat of it, they moved their heads and lips, and the perfect seal they’d created broke, allowing their mingled saliva to escape in messy rivulets down their chins. Neither of them cared.

Isolde raised her hands to his cheeks, finding the courage to pull him closer. She needed to feel even more of him. The kiss alone wasn’t enough now.

She got her wish, but not in the way she expected. With the hand that had been resting on her thigh, Elion cupped one of her small breasts through her blouse, holding the soft mound tenderly between his fingers.

He squeezed gently, lifting it up her chest experimentally. Her mouth suddenly opened wide against his as she let out a shuddering moan.

"Ahhhh..."

It felt so good when he touched her like that, so good in fact, that her nipples immediately swelled into little peaks beneath the fabric.

Her waist slid backward on the hard platform as she began to squirm, and Elion continued to knead her breast.

His touch became more aggressive, as if annoyed that pieces of fabric dared to stand between his hand and her tender flesh. He needed to feel more of her warmth, her skin directly against his.

Reluctantly pulling his hand away, he brought it up to search for the clasp at her collar. He undid it, then gently tugged her blouse down over her left shoulder, then her right, pulling the fabric down her arms until it bunched at her elbows.

He pulled away from the kiss to look at her, a thin strand of their mixed saliva briefly connecting them before breaking.

Her skin was beautiful: her slender neck, the delicate line of her collarbones, the flushed nobs of bone showing just beneath her pale skin.

He could see the shadow of her cleavage, but her twin peaks were still hidden away behind the beautiful blue-white fabric of her soft bra.

As he watched, she had frozen, her breath catching. A flicker of fear passed through her eyes, as if terrified he might not like what he was seeing.

’My breasts are so small,’ she thought, her heart sinking. ’Perhaps he likes them big.’

The thought frightened her to no end, sending a cold, creeping dread through her chest.

Her hands rested limply on her thighs, her eyes dropping down to stare at them as she bit her lower lip, waiting for him to say something... Anything at all. Reassurance, disappointment, anything but this uncomfortable silence.

He didn’t speak.

Instead, she felt his hand slip around her sides, under her arm, his fingers tracing the bra strap along her back, stopping near the middle where the straps met.

He easily found the clasp. A soft, definitive click echoed in the quiet room as he unlocked it.