Chapter 149: The Ultimate Taboo [2] [R18]

Azriel lowered the runepad with a satisfied click, tucking it aside onto the low nightstand.

His mental stream feed, meanwhile, was experiencing an absolute meltdown, notifications of gifted Karma Points cascaded down his vision in a blinding, crimson-and-gold torrent.

The patrons were rabid, and the main event had barely even begun.

Looking down, his breath hitched.

The two apexes of House Bastet remained on their knees on the indigo rug, wedged tightly between his parted thighs.

Framed against the sheer white lace clinging to their bodies, their flushed, ivory skin radiated heat in the quiet, ward-sealed bedroom.

"Enough pictures, Daddy," Vesperia murmured, her gravelly purr vibrating straight against his bare knee.

Her golden slit-pupils were dilated, completely swallowed by unmasked hunger.

"You’ve kept us waiting long enough."

Rosalind didn’t even wait for a reply.

Leaning forward, the Duchess reached out with both slender hands, her soft, ring-adorned fingers wrapping firmly around the thick base of his shaft.

The sheer heat radiating from his iron-hard length drew a soft, shuddering gasp from her lips.

Tilting her chin up, her golden eyes locked straight onto his glowing violet gaze, and she parted her lips, flicking the tip of her tongue across the swollen, pre-slicked crown.

Azriel’s hips twitched forward involuntarily, his fingers burying deep into the dark star-wood edge of the mattress.

"Fuck..."

Vesperia moved in an instant later, refusing to let her daughter claim dominance.

Tilting her head to the opposite side, the Matriarch pressed her plush, painted lips against the underside of his shaft.

Her warm, wet tongue pressed flat against the heavy, pulsing ridge, tracing a slow, agonizingly thorough stroke from the base all the way up to the sensitive rim.

Caught between mother and daughter, Azriel’s jaw clenched, a low, guttural growl rumbling from the depths of his chest.

They worked together with a terrifying, shameless synergy.

Rosalind took the heavy head into her mouth, her soft cheeks hollowing as she sucked him down past her lips, bathing the crown in slick, scalding heat.

Simultaneously, Vesperia’s manicured hand reached lower, her warm palm gently cupping and kneading his heavy, taut balls, while her tongue followed right behind Rosalind’s mouth, licking up every drop of escaped moisture along the exposed length.

The wet, obscene sounds filled the chamber, entirely swallowed by the hum of the amber warding stones.

Rosalind bobbed her head, taking more of his dense girth into her throat, her throat muscles rippling around him as she hummed a muffled, vibrating purr against his flesh.

When the sheer thickness forced her to pull back with a soft, wet pop, Vesperia seamlessly traded places with her.

The Matriarch opened wide, her lips stretching taut around his broad crown, taking him deep with the practiced, ravenous hunger of an Overlord claiming her rightful prize.

Mother and daughter brushed against one another as they moved, their matching lace straps slipping down their shoulders from the frantic heat of their movements.

Every few seconds, their golden eyes would flick upward through thick lashes, checking his expression, drinking in the sight of the beastman who held their absolute devotion unraveling right before them.

Azriel couldn’t take the passive torment any longer.

Azriel’s calloused fingers tangled deep into their damp, silken hair, his grip tightening until both women gasped against his iron-hard length.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice dark, rough, and reverberating with sovereign authority.

Both noblewomen froze, their flushed faces framed by disheveled silver strands, their lips slick, swollen, and parting around his shaft. Golden slit-pupils met his burning violet gaze, completely unraveled by the raw intensity rolling off him.

Without a second of hesitation, Azriel pulled Rosalind forward by her hair, aligning her plush mouth with his flared crown. He thrust his hips forward, burying his thick girth deep between her lips. Rosalind’s eyes widened, a muffled gag vibrating in her throat as his broad head stretched her soft palate, her slender hands clutching his thick thighs for purchase.

Beside her, Vesperia didn’t miss a beat. Seeing her daughter claimed, the Matriarch dropped her head lower, parting her lips to engulf his heavy, tight sac. Her warm tongue swirled hungrily over his sensitive flesh, kneading and worshipping him with seasoned, shameless fervor.

Azriel set a relentless, punishing pace into Rosalind’s mouth, the wet, rhythmic sounds filling the chamber until tears of sheer stimulation welled in the corners of her golden eyes.

With a low grunt, he pulled back with a loud, slick pop, immediately shifting his grip to Vesperia’s thick locks. He hauled the Matriarch upward, driving his rigid shaft straight down her throat in one smooth, dominant surge. An involuntary gag rippled through her throat, her sovereign composure instantly shattering beneath his weight.

Gasping for air, Rosalind seamlessly took her mother’s place below, taking his heavy balls between her warm lips, eager to keep the pressure mounting.

"Yeah, just like that," Azriel rasped, his eyes flashing dangerous violet light as he pumped ruthlessly into the Matriarch’s mouth. "Take it all the way down, you little bitch. Swallow every inch."

Vesperia’s golden eyes flared with pure, manic heat, a guttural moan vibrating directly against his cock as her claws dug into the fabric of his trousers. Rosalind, kneeling right beside her, momentarily froze in astonishment; she knew her mother called him ’daddy’ behind closed doors, but witnessing the proud, terrifying Matriarch of House Bastet completely submitting to such filthy, degrading praise sent a blazing jolt of arousal straight to the Duchess’s core.

The pressure coiled tight in Azriel’s lower abdomen, building to an explosive peak. He hauled his shaft out of Vesperia’s mouth, breathing heavily as he held both women by the nape of their necks.

"Mouths open. Tongues out," he ordered, his voice thick with raw command.

A breathless, intoxicated shiver ripped through mother and daughter. Without an ounce of hesitation, they tilted their heads back, parting their glistening, reddened lips and extending their slick tongues in absolute, synchronized submission.

Azriel stood towering over them, his fist pumping the heavy, vein-ridged steel of his shaft in three sharp, furious strokes.

With a low, guttural roar, his release broke like a shattered dam. Thick, boiling ropes of white seed erupted from the slit, painting their upturned faces in hot, sticky arcs. The heavy stream splattered across Rosalind’s flushed cheeks and open lips before coating Vesperia’s nose, eyelids, and chin, leaving both sovereigns thoroughly branded, dripping in his mark under the quiet hum of the warding array.

Chest heaving, Azriel grabbed the runepad off the nightstand with one hand while using the other to tilt their faces together.

Resting the heavy, glistening length of his cock horizontally across both of their faces, bridging Vesperia’s cheek to Rosalind’s nose, he aligned the lens.

Thick, pearlescent ropes of his release dripped down their skin, catching in their eyelashes and smearing across their open, painted lips.

The contrast was staggering: two generations of untouchable ducal power, completely painted, branded, and undone.

Click.

The runic crystal pulsed, searing the image into permanent memory before he casually tossed the pad onto the silken sheets.

Down in the streaming interface, the chat detonated into a blinding wall of glowing notifications.

[LIVE CHAT]

[Sadistic69] (Red): HOLY SHIT! Look at Vesperia’s face! The Overlord is literally painted white!

[Nine_Tailed_Vixen] (Cyan): A framed photo for the ages! Both of them with their tongues out, completely broken.

[Lusty_Sera] (Golden): Hahaha... look at Rosalind’s eyes, she’s practically begging for the main course already.

[God_Slayer_Klara] (Red): That picture alone is worth a million KP.

[Moon_Priestess] (Cyan): Ohhhhh.... this is so good, his huge dick over their faces looks so good....

Karma Points poured into his balance by thousands, the viewers ravenous at the utter dismantling of House Bastet’s matriarchal pride.

’That was just the appetizer, chat,’ Azriel transmitted through the mental link, his thoughts cool, smug, and edged with sharp amusement.

’Now watch how sovereigns truly unravel.’

He looked down at the two matriarchs still kneeling at his feet.

Their breathing came shallow and uneven, golden eyes heavy with lingering heat.

Without a shred of their usual restraint, both Vesperia and Rosalind raised their fingers to their flushed faces, slowly tracing away the warm remnants marking their skin, savoring every trace with unapologetic, feline devotion.

Between his legs, the pause was fleeting.

Spurred by the heavy, sweet musk hanging in the ward-sealed chamber and the sight of two high-house apexes stripped of their pride, Azriel’s arousal surged back to full, demanding rigidity, ready to claim the rest of what they had promised.

"Enough kneeling," Azriel growled, his voice thick with raw command.

He leaned down, grabbing Vesperia by her slender wrist and hauling her up onto the colossal star-wood mattress.

Her sheer white lace was soaked with sweat and residual moisture, clinging transparently to the ripe curves of her hips.

Before she could catch her breath, Azriel grabbed Rosalind by the hip, pulling the Duchess up right beside her mother.

"On all fours. Both of you," he ordered, giving the plush, rounded cheek of Vesperia’s ass a sharp, stinging slap that left a vivid red palm print in the pale skin.