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My Xianxia Harem Life

Chapter 424 Bard · Oct 28, 2026

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Chapter List (444)

Page number / 9

401 Chapter 401 Mineral 2026-10-28
402 Chapter 402 Formula 2026-10-28
403 Chapter 403 Calculus 2026-10-28
404 Chapter 404 Bumper 2026-10-28
405 Chapter 405 Signature 2026-10-28
406 Chapter 406 Variation 2026-10-28
407 Chapter 407 Controversy 2026-10-28
408 Chapter 408 Bound 2026-10-28
409 Chapter 409 Character 2026-10-28
410 Chapter 410 Tropical 2026-10-28
411 Chapter 411 Inheritance 2026-10-28
412 Chapter 412 Rampage 2026-10-28
413 Chapter 413 Jest 2026-10-28
414 Chapter 414 Brain 2026-10-28
415 Chapter 415 Prime 2026-10-28
416 Chapter 416 Intern 2026-10-28
417 Chapter 417 Books 2026-10-28
418 Chapter 418 Mountain 2026-10-28
419 Chapter 419 Culture 2026-10-28
420 Chapter 420 Carpet 2026-10-28
421 Chapter 421 Versatile 2026-10-28
422 Chapter 422 Tropical 2026-10-28
423 Chapter 423 Company 2026-10-28
424 Chapter 424 Bard 2026-10-28
425 Chapter 425 Sarcasm 2026-10-28
426 Chapter 426 Planner 2026-10-28
427 Chapter 427 Documentary 2026-10-28
428 Chapter 428 Judge 2026-10-28
429 Chapter 429 Margin 2026-10-28
430 Chapter 430 Wisdom 2026-10-28
431 Chapter 431 Cushion 2026-10-28
432 Chapter 432 Survey 2026-10-28
433 Chapter 433 Remote 2026-10-28
434 Chapter 434 Skeleton 2026-10-28
435 Chapter 435 Stream 2026-10-28
436 Chapter 436 Console 2026-10-28
437 Chapter 437 Theatre 2026-10-28
438 Chapter 438 Caption 2026-10-28
439 Chapter 439 Camper 2026-10-28
440 Chapter 440 Berserker 2026-10-28
441 Chapter 441 Handler 2026-10-28
442 Chapter 442 Wheel 2026-10-28
443 Chapter 443 Nation 2026-10-28
444 Chapter 444 Garden 2026-10-28

Chapter 424: Chapter 424 Bard

The taste of herself mixed with his skin was intoxicating, a primal fuel that left her breathless and wanting more than she could name.

She watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Riley moved down her body with a deliberate slowness that was its own exquisite torture.

He didn’t simply part her legs; he revealed her, spreading her long, pale limbs with a reverence that made her feel both worshipped and utterly claimed.

Then he descended, and there was no more hesitation, only gusto.

It wasn’t just a kiss or a lick; it was a full, devouring claim.

The sensation was so profoundly good it bordered on unbearable—a direct line of pure, shimmering pleasure that connected his talented mouth to every nerve ending in her body.

His tongue was his instrument, and he played her with virtuosic skill.

He laved, he sucked, drawing the very essence of her into his mouth.

He built the rhythm of her pleasure like a composer building a symphony—slow movements giving way to frantic, driving crescendos.

Her hands, which had been fisting the sheets, flew to his head, her fingers tangling deep in his hair.

The pressure built, coiled tight and impossibly hot in her belly, until she was practically exploding against his mouth.

”Sooooo goood! Ohhhhhhh!” Her cry was a raw, unfiltered sound, torn from a place of pure, animal ecstasy.

He didn’t stop, not even as she trembled and shook, not even as her pleas became mindless whimpers.

In the heavy, perfumed silence that followed, broken only by their ragged breathing, Riley finally lifted his head.

He gathered her shaking form against him, and she nuzzled into his chest, utterly ravished, utterly complete.

The air, thick with the scent of their prior exertions, seemed to still.

In the hazy, golden aftermath, a single assumption solidified in her mind: the beast had been fed, and now it would simply take its final, conquering prize.

But Riley had never been a man of predictable appetites.

He reclined against the plush pillows, a picture of indolent command, and turned his head to gaze at her with dark, expectant eyes.

”It’s time for you to please me, my dear Duchess,” he said, his thumb tracing a idle pattern on his own lower abdomen. ”I won’t have a lover who doesn’t know how to get me going.”

Monique turned onto her side, propping her head on her hand.

The helpless tension was gone, replaced by a curious, power-tinged thrill.

”This is my first time,” she replied, her tone a mix of defiance and play. The words were true, but the subtext was a challenge. ”You can’t possibly expect me to know anything, can you?”

”You got all the time in the world to learn, Monique. But the best time to start is now.”

With a grace that belied the novel situation, she slid down the bed, the silken sheets whispering against her skin.

And there, her eyes found their focus, and her breath hitched.

It was thick, veined, and profoundly large, the ruddy head flushed with a promise that seemed, for a fleeting second, like a threat.

It was simply terrifying to look upon—a flesh-and-blood weapon of mass seduction.

The memory of his own mouth on her, his skilled, torturous patience, became her textbook. Observation, then replication.

The first contact was not with her mouth, but with her breath, a warm caress against the sensitive crown.

She tasted salt and skin and the uniquely musky essence of him.

Emboldened, she repeated the motion, firmer now, learning the shape and the response.

Her hand came up to cradle the formidable base, her fingers unable to meet, and she began a tentative, twisting stroke in counterpoint to the licks of her tongue.

She was not a courtesan with practiced art, but a duchess discovering a potent new form of alchemy, transforming her tentative curiosity into his palpable, shuddering tension.

She took her time, learning their weight and warmth, before beginning a gentle, rhythmic massage—squeezing and rolling with just the right amount of pressure.

Slowly, irresistibly, a thick, pearly string of precome began to bead at the tip of his cock.

With a soft, greedy sound, she swirled her tongue over the slit, lapping up the salty-sweet fluid as if it were the most precious nectar.

For nearly ten minutes, she maintained this tantalizing rhythm—sucking, massaging, coaxing him steadily toward the edge.

Finally, with a ragged groan, he surrendered.

Pew—

She gasped and was startled.

But she recovered in an instant, her reflexes taking over.

Pew—

The subsequent bursts filled her throat, rich and warm.

Her face was a mess—glistening with his release, her mascara slightly smudged—and the look in her eyes was one of pure, unabashed satisfaction.

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