Turning Chapter 1257

The two figures slumped onto the bed, intertwined as one. Though the pressure ought to have been unbearable, Yuder merely intensified his embrace, his thighs and heels clamping down more firmly around Kishiar’s waist. In response to this silent plea, Kishiar willingly draped his entire form over Yuder, like a serpent coiling around its prey.

“Ugh—hah, ngh, ah—ah...”

Under the faint glow of the lamp, their conjoined shadow convulsed with violent up-and-down movements. Kishiar’s broad, taut back and arms, engorged with mounting desire, completely engulfed the body beneath him. Only the barest hint of Yuder Aile’s trembling toes was visible within the shifting silhouette.

No one—

Not even the flames—

Could discern the expression on Yuder’s face, the countenance accompanying his moans. Every sound he uttered was trapped within the confines of this chamber. A discreet application of magic and abilities had long since sealed the space, rendering it impenetrable.

No soul, save for Kishiar—who had been granted the exclusive privilege of comforting him—was permitted entry into this sanctuary.

“I vowed to let you revel in pleasure to your heart’s content... so I must ensure this experience is truly worth your choice.”

Fortunately, Kishiar possessed absolute certainty in his capacity to fulfill this promise.

He made no attempt to mask his true feelings. The flawless smile he typically presented was absent, replaced instead by a primal grin—both ravenous and genuine—that curved his lips. This very expression was also to Yuder’s liking.

The more Kishiar ceased to conceal his yearning, the more Yuder’s dark eyes became fixed upon him, lost in a daze, unwavering. It was as if witnessing Kishiar’s honest desire was a miraculous vision, long awaited his entire life. Within those hazy, dark eyes, ecstasy and delight commingled with each labored breath.

“Ah...!”

Yuder’s abdomen convulsed, slick with moisture once more. Their hips, grinding together like beasts in rut, spasmed with rhythmic intensity before succumbing to a state of languor. His legs, which had moments before been tightly clasped around Kishiar’s waist, now hung limply. The heaving of his chest suggested the onset of fatigue, yet Kishiar harbored no intention of ceasing.

The body’s responses and the mind’s fulfillment were distinct entities. Yuder possessed considerable stamina; this level of exertion was insufficient to exhaust him. Internally, he continued to clench and release around Kishiar’s length, as if meticulously exploring the fullness within and truly comprehending its essence.

Proping one arm beside the dark tresses splayed across the sheets, Kishiar leaned closer, his lips grazing Yuder’s ear. His mouth traced a path below it, then gently nipped the lobe before spiraling his tongue into the small, delicate cavity—a passage too exquisite and private to serve solely for hearing. He explored every accessible inch with his tongue, causing Yuder, whose ears were exquisitely sensitive, to writhe away and gasp for air. Kishiar, not missing this reaction, pursued him, seizing a carelessly extended leg and lifting it with practiced ease.

Their positions shifted in a fluid instant.

“Ugh!”

The sensation of his length sliding and twisting within, abrading the internal passages with an almost unbearable friction, made Yuder arch his neck with a strangled cry. Kishiar’s back muscles bulged as he firmly gripped Yuder’s limb, his entire being coiled with barely restrained power. Yet, a deep exhale through his nose signaled a conscious effort to regain composure.

Succumbing to pleasure without being utterly consumed by it proved an arduous feat. Even after years of rigorous training, beads of sweat trickled down Kishiar’s temples and along his spine. Yuder experienced a similar struggle; his knuckles whitened as he gripped Kishiar’s forearm with a pressure that seemed to penetrate bone.

Then, once more, the bed began to tremble with escalating intensity.

Each thrust felt as though it might steal his breath, as though it would shatter the boundaries of reason itself—not through pain, but by virtue of an overwhelming, exquisite pleasure. Narrowing his eyes, Kishiar sought that elusive point of profound connection.

The very scent emanating from Yuder’s body, the distinct mark upon him, conveyed the depth of his enjoyment—the extent of his satisfaction.

Observing the faint upward curve of Yuder’s lips, Kishiar found himself unable to resist. He withdrew from the ear he had been caressing and moved to meet Yuder’s mouth. The current position rendered this action difficult, almost awkward—but the surging desire would not be restrained.

He pulled the leg closer, reorienting their intertwined bodies. Their lips met with a collision, teeth grazing, yet he still managed to gently bite down on Yuder’s lower lip and draw it into his mouth. As their tongues entwined, Yuder’s hand rose, fingers delving into Kishiar’s hair. That single, delicate touch was enough to send Kishiar spiraling towards the precipice of climax.

Yuder, his crimson eyes fluttering weakly, lowered his hand to the point where their bodies joined. Finding the union complete—nothing left exposed—his gaze deepened, imbued with the contented expression of a satiated predator. His fingers traced paths through their tangled pubic hair, ascending Kishiar’s abdomen and chest, before descending once more. He swept across his slick lower belly, pressing upon a specific location—not out of carnal impulse, but as if to confirm the exact placement of Kishiar within him.

And that intimate confirmation—it sent a more potent surge of aroused desire through Kishiar than any external stimulus ever could.

Fingers interlaced tightly between Yuder’s, Kishiar pressed upward once more against the resistance of the bed. The sheer ecstasy of penetrating so deeply in a single, powerful thrust drew a ragged, low moan from Yuder.

“Ahh… it feels… so good…”

When utterly lost in the throes of pleasure, their bodies and scents communicated far more effectively than words ever could. This unspoken language had long since proven faster and more honest. However, as Yuder neared his absolute limit, when the final vestiges of his mental control fractured, he would sometimes utter words, seemingly without conscious thought.

These were not words chosen by the mind, but rather sensations spilling forth involuntarily.

Good. More. Faster. Deeper.

And then—

“Kishiar…!”

The name, escaping as though his very being had ignited. Yuder’s hips arched instinctively, utterly unaware he had spoken or to whom he had called out. His eyes, clouded with pleasure and devoid of focus, overflowed with an aching need for release. His legs parted with abandon, his hands still clasped with Kishiar’s, fingers clinging as if they would never let go—a desperate plea to his lover.

It was precisely as it had been during his heat.

Ah. Yuder.

The resolve Kishiar had just formed—to offer him the utmost comfort—felt like a hollow promise as he trembled uncontrollably. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, he felt on the precipice of melting away or exploding entirely.

Even if he were to question his worthiness for this rapture a thousand, even ten thousand times over, the name he had just heard would remain unchanged.

He wanted him.

The overwhelming surge disabled his control. He could no longer hold back. Yet, if it were Yuder, he would have urged him to release it all, to let it go. And so, he did.

His thrusts intensified, becoming faster and harder. Yuder squirmed beneath him, incapable of resisting. Kishiar refused to loosen his grip, holding Yuder tightly as if they were fused, driving deeper, further into the innermost part, the place Yuder cherished most.

“……!”

The position they had begun in had long since shifted, repeatedly, driven solely by their mutual desire for closer proximity and more intense contact.

No matter how Kishiar thrust, Yuder’s body quivered as if craving even more. Kishiar left no inch of skin unacknowledged—from the delicate hollows of his wrists and ribs to the slightly elongated toe on his right foot, he savored every part with his mouth.

Finally, as Yuder was thoroughly wrung out by overwhelming pleasure, his eyes barely managing to stay open, Kishiar sensed the climax approaching. He drew a deep breath.

“…Haa.”

Yuder’s chest, still taut with residual sensations, rose and fell with his shallow breaths. Kishiar’s gaze remained fixed on it, but instead of kissing there, he slowly withdrew from their still-connected bodies.

His withdrawal was gradual, deliberate, intended to prevent overstimulation. It took time. The fluids that had pooled within spilled out, a rush cascading down his shaft.

“Nngh… ugh…”

“Did it hurt?”

Yuder emitted a faint whimper, prompting Kishiar to gently brush back his damp hair and inquire. With his eyes still closed, Yuder slowly shook his head.

No—it was not pain he felt.

The fire hasn’t entirely extinguished yet… I should allow him some time to cool down before tending to the cleanup. Damp sheets are most uncomfortable, so I’ll carry him—

His calculated thoughts abruptly ceased as the body beside him stirred, then began to move, climbing on top.

Yuder maneuvered himself, then collapsed onto Kishiar’s chest.