Chapter 122. The Texture, The Taste, and Everything About Eveline’s Chest Are Insane**

Chapter 122: 122. The Texture, The Taste, and Everything About Eveline’s Chest Are Insane**

I bent down and kissed her.

Not her lips, duh, but her fucking breasts.

I kissed the soft, pale skin of her chest, and I could feel her heart beating underneath, fast and wild, and I pressed my lips to one nipple.

And it was so soft... so warm... and I felt her gasp against my mouth, and then she was pulling my head closer, her fingers tangling in my hair, and she was making those sounds again.

Those soft, breathless whimpers that were building into something more, something louder, something that echoed off the cave walls and filled the dark space between us.

"Oh gods, oh gods, Roland, please—"

I lifted my head and looked at her, and her face was flushed and her eyes were half-closed and her lips were parted.

She was glistening with sweat and her ears were drooping and her tail was twitching and she looked like the most beautiful thing in the world, and I knew... I fucking knew with every fiber of my being that this was the moment everything changed.

"Undress me," she whispered. "Undress us... I want to feel all of you."

"I want to feel everything."

And I did.

I undressed her slowly, reverently, like I was handling something sacred, and she undressed me with the same care, the same desperation, and the same need, and when we were both naked, standing in the starlight at the mouth of the cave.

I looked at her... these eyes won’t stop to really look at her, and she looked at me, and I could see her eyes go wide as she saw me.

She clearly saw my cock standing proud, angry, and thick in the cool night air, and I could see her throat move as she swallowed. I

could hear her breath catch, and then she said, in a voice so soft I almost missed it:

"Oh my gods...."

"Eveline," I said, and my voice was a warning, a promise, a plea. "I told you... seeing it with your eyes... you’re probably thinking that you’re getting stabbed real deep by a sword."

She looked at me. And they looked at my cock.

She flinched when she saw it witched, and she looked back at my face. And she smiled.

"Then... don’t be." She chuckled. "I’ll try my best."

I didn’t stop... even if I wanted to, I couldn’t stop.

My hands were buried in her, kneading, cupping, and exploring, and what I was discovering made my head spin. Her breasts were so soft.

Not just soft, but impossibly soft, like they were made of something between silk and cloud and warmth.

Every time I pressed my fingers into her, they sank in deeper, the flesh yielding to me like water, like it wanted to swallow my hands whole.

"Eveline," I breathed, and I couldn’t believe what I was feeling. "Your tits... they’re getting softer."

"Every time I touch them, they just... they get softer."

"What?" she asked, her voice a little dazed, her ears drooping.

"I’m serious... Look." I pressed my fingers into the swell of her left breast and watched, mesmerized, as my fingertips disappeared into the pale, warm flesh.

It was like pressing into something alive, something that responded to me.

My fingers sank into the knuckles, and then further, and I felt the incredible elasticity of it, the way the flesh gripped around my fingers and held them, warm and impossibly supple.

"This is incredible," I said, and I sounded like a man who’d just discovered fire. "They’re swallowing my fingers, Eveline..."

"They’re swallowing them!"

She looked down at my hands buried in her chest, and her face went crimson. "Oh... Oh, that’s... that’s a thing..."

"I didn’t know that was a thing."

"It’s definitely a thing for your kind." I pulled my fingers out slowly, watched the flesh bounce back, and watched it fill in again like it was made of something alive and responsive.

And then I looked at her nipples. They were hidden, tucked away inside that soft, yielding flesh, and I decided that I wanted to see them.

I reached down and gently, carefully pinched the skin around one and pulled it outward, and what I saw made my throat go dry.

They popped out like they’d been waiting for permission.

Goddamn... it looked hard... and pointy.

What makes it the best is that they were dark and swollen and even perfect.

The inverted shape had vanished, replaced by something so sharp and so erect it looked almost impossible.

I stared at them.

I stared at them for a long time, and I could feel my cock twitching harder, pulsing harder, aching with a hunger that was so intense it was almost painful.

"You’re so... you’re so pointy," I said, and I sounded like a man who’d just seen the face of God.

"They’re sensitive," Eveline said, and her voice was trembling. "Really, really sensitive..."

"Please be careful—"

But I wasn’t being careful. Just by looking at those... I couldn’t be.

My fingers found them, and I started playing with them, rolling them between my thumb and forefinger, tugging gently, pulling them out and letting them snap back, and the sounds she made were ruinous.

Not screams... Not moans... but some exotic sounds.

The kind of sounds that don’t have names... they come from somewhere deeper than language, that echo off cave walls and fill the night with something ancient and raw.

"Nnnnh... ah... Roland... oh gods, don’t—no, don’t stop—"

She raised both hands and pressed them to the top of her head, her fingers interlacing, exposing herself completely.

Her breasts were pushed forward, her chest arched, her nipples bared and twitching under my fingers, and she looked like she was offering herself up to me on an altar.

"They’re so sensitive," she gasped, her eyes squeezed shut, her ears vibrating so hard I could hear them. "It’s driving me crazy... You’re driving me crazy!"

"I can see that," I said, and I was already moving to both of them, my hands working them simultaneously, rolling, tugging, and pressing, and she was shaking.

Her whole body was shaking, her thighs pressing together, her bunny tail twitching frantically, and her breathing coming in short, wet gulps that filled the cave with the sound of her need.

"You’re..." She opened her eyes, and they were glassy and wide, and she looked at me with a mixture of shock and something else... something that looked like recognition.

"You’re a real pervert, aren’t you?"

I blinked. "What?"

"I knew it... ehehehe... I knew it." She let out a shaky laugh, and her ears drooped in embarrassment. "Alicia told me about you..."

"She said, ’Roland is a good man, but he’s got the hands of a man who’s been somewhere. ’I didn’t know what she meant until now. " She blushed so hard I thought she might actually catch fire. "I didn’t expect to see this side of you."

"The... the hands-on side."

’Goddammit, Alicia... are you going to tell this to every candidate or something?!’

"This is the only side," I said, and I was already leaning in.

"Roland, please," she said, and her voice was a whisper now, her eyes still glassy, her body still shaking. "Please don’t tease them like that."

"It’s... it’s too much."

"I can’t—" She swallowed hard, and her ears folded flat against her head.

"But..." She paused.

She looked away, then looked back at me, and there was something in her eyes that made my heart stop. "If you want to... if you want to lick them... I think I’d like that."

I didn’t even process what she said before I was moving.

I leaned down, my arms wrapping around her, pulling her hard against my chest, my hands cupping both of her massive breasts, and I buried my face in them.

I pressed my lips to one nipple and drank it... I sucked her nipple into my mouth like it was the only thing in the world that could keep me alive, and the taste was incredible.

The texture... it’s warm and sweet and even creamy, with a subtle saltiness that made my mouth water, and her skin was so soft against my tongue that it felt like kissing a cloud.

She was bouncy.

She was plump.

She was elastic.

Every time I pulled back, she pushed forward, her breasts swelling out to meet me like they were begging for it.

"Ohhh... ohhh..." Eveline’s voice broke into a moan that was so loud it echoed off the cave walls. "Roland... you’re... you’re really sucking on them... oh gods, you’re sucking on them with everything you’ve got..."

She lowered her head and looked down at me, and she was smiling—that smile, that beautiful, ruinous smile, and her eyes were still full of hearts.

She said, "If you love licking boobs that much, then... then go ahead... I’m yours forever."

I didn’t need to be told twice. I moved to the other nipple, and she let out a sound that I will never forget—a high, thin, broken sound, like a string snapping, like a bird falling from the sky, like something inside her had just given up and surrendered.

Her body went rigid, then soft, then rigid again, and her hands flew from the top of her head to my hair, her fingers clenching and releasing, clenching and releasing, and she was screaming now.

Not loud, but hard... like desperate, breathless screams that tore out of her throat like they’d been bottled up for years. "Oh! Oh! Oh, Roland! Roland!"