1-3

Tender buds began to sprout on the dried branches. It was Lionella’s second season at the Cardinal’s residence on the Grand Temple.

Throughout winter, Mishael hardly went out of the Grand Temple’s residence. This was because the Third Princess, Daniella, whom he supported, had uncovered evidence that her rival, the First Prince, was involved in drug trafficking and human trafficking in the back alleys of the castle, raising questions about his suitability. The First Prince was the most beloved child of the Queen and a leading candidate for the throne. Since all three children of the King, except for Princess Daniella herself, were full siblings born from the Queen, this was tantamount to a declaration of war against all her half-siblings.

Thus, it was time to hunker down and prepare for the upcoming all-out confrontation.

Even without his intervention, there were many in the court who were people of Princess Daniella, including her closest aide Lord Fernando, the vice commander of the royal knights, the chief aide to the Prime Minister, and the youngest professor at the academy. Therefore, Mishael took refuge in the residence of the Grand Temple, providing the holy knights when force was needed and sending petitions at the ecclesiastical level when legitimacy was required to support her.

Apart from work hours, he spent his time holed up in the bedroom of the residence.

The household of the Grand Temple all waited for their Cardinal to act as Princess Daniella’s hammer, preparing themselves to be holed up as well, or so they said.

If it weren’t for his hypnosis barrier, people would have known the true situation…

“Ah! Yes! Ahh!”

“Like that? Hm?”

“Yes! Good, yes! Like that!”

“Can’t hold it?”

“Uh, yes…”

On his bed. Lionella leaned against the headboard, her arms bound to the bedpost. Folding her knees up and spreading her legs wide like a frog, she exposed herself willingly. Although she had been trapped in this room for almost half a year, only Mishael knew about her current state due to his hypnosis… she couldn’t help but cry out of shame. With only one arm free, she could gather her legs or move her body, but to end the situation quickly, following his lead was the best option.

Excitement, moaning, giving him the answers he desired…

The most embarrassing part was that she was touching herself…

Mishael’s red eyes gazed at her privates as though he was licking them. Unlike her, who spent more days not wearing a tunic at all lately, Mishael was still dressed in the Cardinal’s uniform he wore while working in his office on the first floor today. Just taking off his gloves, he overlapped her hands and made her rub her p*ssy with her fingertips. She had done it so long that the mucous membrane inside her widely opened l*bia turned red-hot and glistened with love juices. Not to mention, the swollen cl*toris peeked out from its foreskin, revealing its presence sharply, and every time her fingertips brushed against it, the deep hole involuntarily convulsed.

“Hmm…”

As if she was trying to endure the climax, Lionella’s knees involuntarily came together and trembled. Her eyebrows drooped softly, drawing a gentle curve down, making her expression excessively lascivious.

“What’s the matter.”

“Uh, hmm…”

“Going to cum again?”

“Hmm…”

“You really have no shame. How many times is this already, m*sturbating in the sanctuary of God.”

Slap, slap. Mishael pushed Lionella’s hand harder against her l*bia. Each time her slender fingers plowed through her v*gina, the love juices that flowed there made a squelching sound.

“Maybe I should hand you over to a religious trial.”

“No, uh…”

“That’s where you prove it. In front of everyone watching, that you finger your own hole.”

“No, don’t want…”

“Trembling like this with your p*ssy juices dripping.”

“D-don’t do that…”

Mishael deliberately spilled shameful words into her ears while shaking her hands from side to side. With his finger pressing against her sensitive spot, intense pleasure surged through her entire groin. She writhed. Her knees kept jerking with each movement of his fingers.

Mishael was angry now. Knowing the reason why, Lionella tried hard to squeeze out words he would like.

“Not that, yours.”

“Huh?”

“Your d*ck, feed me.”

F*ck Mishael cursed through his teeth and slid her legs straight down to the bed. Clank, the sound of her metal chains attached to handcuffs jingled.

He leaned over her while pushing his tongue through his teeth simultaneously burying his fingers in her v*gina.

“Huh…”

He bent two fingers to scrape down the vaginal walls while pressing his thumb below the cl*toris. When he jabbed quickly like he was drilling into that spot, her already heated flesh was pressed down and her love juices overflowed violently. Turning his hand, using his thumb as a pivot, he slapped her v*lva with his palm with each movement making a sound of moisture splashing.

His tongue was in her upper mouth while his fingers were greedily swimming in her lower mouth. Saliva slowly dripped down from Lionella’s lips as he swallowed his tongue up to the root, and from her hole, a glistening, bright white love juice clinging to his palm, flowing down.

“Uh-huh, uh…”

Since she had already reached the edge of pleasure, she instantly reached climax. Stars burst behind her tightly closed eyes and her legs trembled uncontrollably. Her toes curled up.

Slap, slap, slap, even then Mishael had no intention of leaving the overflowing p*ssy. Instead, excluding his thumb, he thrust all his other fingers into her p*ssy stirring it up. The thickness of his fingers wasn’t much different from a p*nis so her v*gina willingly swallowed it.

The stimulation never ceased, so Lionella couldn’t come down from the climax. Her soles felt as if they were burning.

“Yeah. You like this kind of thing.”

“Uh! Ah! Th-that, hmm!”

“But why, f*ck, why did you break the cup?”

“Uh, j-just, a mistake… hah, uh!”

“Really a mistake, huh?”

“Don’t know… Yes! Ah! Yes! Hmm!”

“If I had been a little late. You would have used that again.”

“N, no, that… Hah!”

As his interrogation continued, Lionella’s body jerked around. Her waist bent, and her pelvis twitched… With each shallow climax, a clear fluid poured out from her p*ssy into his hand. Soon, his sleeve was soaked.

“…Tsk.”

Mishael, having risen, fixed his gaze on the limp Lionella and began to unbutton his jacket. With his excitement visible above his trousers, his red eyes looking at her were coldly settled.

“Always trying to escape…”

Just earlier, when Mishael had finished today’s work and came upstairs. The moment he opened the bedroom door, what entered his sight was the scene of Lionella holding the shards of a teacup, which he had chosen for its resistance to breaking.

Lionella had attempted self-harm several times. Shaking her handcuffed hands until they bled, wrapping the chain of the handcuffs around her neck to strangle herself, or banging her head against the wall. Most of these attempts were not life-threatening, and since he healed her immediately, there were no traces left on her. But perhaps because she once bit her tongue in an attempt to die, Mishael couldn’t help but be sensitive to her self-harming.

Perhaps because he himself had reduced her to such a miserable state that she would want to die…

As a result, the room was quite barren. Frames or stools with sharp corners, vases, mirrors, anything that could be used for self-harm, as well as unnecessary furniture like partitions and console tables, were all removed. And when even that didn’t ease his mind, he hid her behind the curtains in his office’s rest area, though he knew it was not right to do so.

He even imagined tying her arms and legs to the four posts of the bed and gagging her every time he left the room, but it seemed too difficult to actually do. Considering he had locked her up in the dungeon for days until she became compliant, it wasn’t much different…

Perhaps because he left his cum, saliva, and other bodily fluids in her every day, when he concentrated quietly in his office, he could feel her vitality resonating weakly with his holy power.

In reality, supporting the fight for the throne from the shadows was just a pretext; this was why he secluded himself.

So that he could respond immediately if Lionella ever harbored any foolish thoughts.

Lionella herself generally did not show signs of depression or anxiety. She seemed to pass the time adequately by flipping through the leather-bound religious texts provided in the room or peering at the garden through a small window not visible from outside.

But today, again…

During this period of unease, Mishael had thrown off his jacket and the stand-collar shirt inside it. As he sighed through his nose and grasped Lionella’s wrist along with the handcuffs, a faint light glimmered in his hand. With the sound of friction as the lock was released, the handcuffs fell off, leaving only Lionella’s wrist in his hand. Another faint light glowed, and the rubbed and bruised marks on her slender wrist disappeared without a trace.

“Here.”

Mishael lay down beside her on the bed head, half-leaning. Though Lionella expected him to mount her immediately, he didn’t, which briefly puzzled her.

“You said you wanted it.”

He slowly rubbed something he took out from his trousers up and down.

While pushing Lionella to climax, he too was excited to some extent; confined within his trousers, the tip of his c*ck had been tightly pressed and was glistening. The sight of her writhing in pleasure or making lewd noises was such a big turn on.

With each stroke of his hand up and down, clear prec*m smeared over the surface of his c*ck, highlighting its bulging veins even more.

“I’ll give it to you.”

He glanced at Lionella, who was still twitching from the aftermath of her climax, and nodded towards his own c*ck. With each slow stroke of his hand, it seemed to swell ever so slightly.

“Eat it yourself. With your lower mouth.”

It was difficult to oppose Mishael during their s*xual affairs. At such times, he was lax about things outside their relationship but strict about the act itself. Suck. Eat. Swallow. Spread.