Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1718 It Twitches!

Her thumb traced the underside from base to tip in a single slow drag, and the twitch that answered was immediate.

”It twitches!” She announced this with far too much academic triumph for a queen between the legs of a man she wasnʼt even the secret lover of, let alone a proper wife.

But in this very moment, all such inhibitions had been tossed aside. ”The text was accurate! What about lateral pressure? Page fifty-two mentioned a correlation between circumferential grip variance and...”

She rotated her hand and squeezed gently from the sides, watching the reaction with the focus of a researcher cataloguing live data, and her ears swiveled forward as the tip swelled against her palm.

”Remarkable... The elasticity alone contradicts two established theories I read in the Moonshadow Archives.”

”Elf Queen.”

Seraʼs voice cut across the cell, strained and clipped. Her hands pulsed golden light into the network of burst veins running Black Fangʼs forearm, and she did not look up.

”I cannot stabilize her while youʼre conducting a doctoral thesis on my husbandʼs cock right beneath my workspace.”

Myrasynʼs ears clamped flat. ”R-right! Right. Medical procedure. Focus, Myrasyn...”

Her scholarly composure lasted exactly as long as it took her lips to touch the tip.

The taste hit her tongue and her eyes went wide, then heavy, and the careful first lick sheʼd planned turned into a second that lasted twice as long.

Her ears rose on their own, slowly, helplessly, as something thick and warm and carrying a mana density she had never encountered in four thousand years of elvenkind registered in the back of her mouth.

She pulled back an inch, staring at the tip like it had personally rewritten her understanding of alchemy.

”The chronicle did not mention this,” she breathed.

Then she leaned forward again, and the pretense died for good.

Quinlan looked down.

The Queen of all elves knelt between his legs with her tongue pressing flat against the underside of his cock, her eyes looking up at him through her lashes with large pupils, and the expression on her face had left the academic campus permanently and was currently residing somewhere it would never be allowed to return from.

She loved it.

Those big eyes of his, looking down at her from above while she knelt for him with her lips wrapped around something no queen should ever have in her mouth.

The warmth of his gaze hit her chest harder than any spell the dungeon had thrown at her in captivity.

ʼThis will be the end of me,ʼ she realized with horror, her lips tightening as she drew him deeper. ʼIf I keep this up, I will never be able to stand with my head held high before the High Court and reclaim my throne with any shred of dignity. The queen who knelt in a cell and...ʼ

Her tongue curled along the ridge and the sound that left her throat was involuntary, honest, and extremely unfitting for a monarch.

ʼ...Iʼll worry about it later.ʼ

”Youʼre doing it wrong.”

Black Fangʼs voice came from above, flat.

Myrasyn froze with her mouth full. ”Hah?!” The word came out muffled and outraged.

”The angle.” Black Fang didnʼt open her eyes. ”Youʼre too stiff.”

The queen pulled back with an audible pop and jabbed a finger upward at the woman draped over the man she was servicing. ”What do you know?! Youʼre a virgin just like me!”

”Iʼm not a four-thousand-year-old virgin.”

”Yes, and being a four-hundred-year-old virgin makes you an unquestionable professional in the art of lovemaking!” Myrasyn fumed. ”Shut your mouth before I beat your all-knowing butt up, Black Fang! At least I studied the literature!”

Black Fang had already stopped listening. She took another bit of his blood to calm her hunger long enough to do what came next...

Which was...

Her hand sliding down from Quinlanʼs chest, past his abdomen, slow and unwilling and looking at everything except its destination, until her fingers found the base and wrapped around it.

She didnʼt squeeze. She didnʼt stroke. She held it the way she might hold a railing she happened to be resting against, her purple irises locked on the far wall as if she was absolutely, categorically not doing what she was doing.

Lightning shot through Quinlanʼs spine.

”Youʼll never speak of what happened here.” Her voice carried ice, her eyes still on the wall. ”Got it?”

Quinlan nodded.

”Not a single word.”

He nodded.

”Especially not to Vex.”

He nodded faster.

Then her voice dropped, lighter than he had ever heard from her, lighter than anything the Venomborne Terror should have been capable of producing, so quiet he almost missed it.

”Thank you... for rushing to me.”

Her fingers moved. A slow, careful stroke from base to midshaft, carrying a tenderness so foreign to the most feared woman on the continent that something behind Quinlanʼs ribs tightened in a way the hunger couldnʼt explain.

Quinlan instantly knew that Black Fang had zero right backseating Myrasyn like she had, for her movements were beyond awkward and clumsy.

Both of theirs were.

But he was about to ascend to a new state of existence nonetheless.

Below, Myrasyn had stopped even pretending.

The scholarly composure was a memory.

The forbidden literature, forgotten.

What remained was the Queen of all elves bobbing her head with her eyes half-closed, making soft, wet, contented sounds at the back of her throat that had departed from academia entirely and arrived somewhere far more honest.

She was savoring every inch of what the chronicle could only describe in dry text with the devotion of a woman who had found divinity in a place no scripture had ever pointed her toward.

”I wasnʼt quick enough.” Quinlanʼs voice came quiet, his eyes on Black Fangʼs face.

Her strokes didnʼt pause. ”You were.” Flat and simple. ”Iʼm alive and free.”

”They hurt you.” His voice hardened. ”If I had been stronger-”

”I am fine.” The words came rough, from a voice that didnʼt know how to reassure. ”I will be fine, when...”

She trailed off, and her fingers stilled against him.

Below, Myrasynʼs pace had settled, her eyes fully closed now, ears limp with contentment, and the quiet sounds she made between breaths painted the portrait of a woman who had found something she would not be letting go of willingly.

A breath left Black Fang that weighed more than blood or hunger.

”I know I canʼt express myself properly. I know that Iʼm not normal. I know that even looking at me scares people.” Her voice was low, barely a murmur, and the vulnerability in it sat so foreign against the serpent tattoos and the blood crusting her chin that the cell felt like it was eavesdropping on a confession it had no right to hear.

”To others, I am a scary monster more than a woman.”

Her fingers moved against him again, barely, a ghost of pressure.

”But the truth is... I liked it.”

”Liked it?” Quinlan asked.

The purple spirals in her eyes found his, and the hunger swirling behind them was entirely her own.

”The way you look at me when you see me... From the very first moment, when you were far, far beneath my strength. Even back then, I saw no monster gazing back at me when I looked into your eyes. Not a terrible, miserable creature. Just... a woman.”

Her grip tightened for a single heartbeat.

”Your bet.” Her lips curled into something too fragile to name. ”I never thought it was possible, especially after you so arrogantly reduced it from a year to a month. But perhaps...”

She leaned in until her breath touched his cheek.

”...you might just succeed.”

Every nerve in Quinlanʼs body fired at once.

He pulled free of Myrasynʼs mouth a breath before it happened, and the queenʼs eyes flew open at the sudden withdrawal as he released into the open air above them.

”N-no... Mine...” Myrasyn stared at the space where it had been, lips still parted, tongue still extended.

A sudden and inexplicable feeling of loss settled over her.

Wind caught the release before gravity could, sweeping every drop into a compressed sphere of air that hovered at chest height.

Black Fangʼs legs unwound from Quinlanʼs body and she dropped to the stone floor on her own two feet for the first time since the rescue. Her legs shook once, then held.

”Turn away.” Her voice carried command again, rough and absolute.

They did. Quinlan turned. Sera lowered her glowing hands and turned with him, grinning slyly.

”Hmph! Enjoy, I suppose. Youʼre welcome!” Myrasyn wiped her lips with her tongue, trying to find any missed drops, and turned with an expression that still hadnʼt recovered.

Silence held for three heartbeats.

Then the cell erupted in purple.

Light poured from every surface, blazing through cracks in the stone and painting the walls in swirling violet.

Black Fang stood with her back to them. Her palm pressed flat against her lower belly, where something that had not been there before pulsed beneath her skin in a warmth she could not explain.

”Quinlan Elysiar.”

Her voice came measured.

”What does it mean... that Iʼm your Beloved?”

Her fingers pressed harder against her belly, where the warmth was spreading.

”Explain yourself.”

...

It turned out that the cure brought with it unexpected side effects!

But now wasnʼt the time to dwell, for the battlefield awaited the Primordial Villain!

It was time to finish everything!