Chapter 1.3

With sounds she had never heard before came sensations she had never once felt—the hot, wet, lingering trail of something warm brushing deeply between her. The feeling made Syria gasp, a strange sound escaping her lips.

“Heeek…….”

Firenze’s hands were roughly exploring the curves of her, while his lips pressed into the hollow between, sucking and licking insistently.

Though Syria was a naive pervert with no experience, her loyal and seemingly pure knight was, in truth, a true deviant.

Syria’s hands and arms, bracing against the desk, trembled violently.

‘What… is this…….’

But before she could think further, the unfamiliar sensations overwhelmed her. Goosebumps spread across her body.

“Huuuh…….”

Again. Strange sounds kept escaping her lips. Syria was so stunned by what was happening that she could hardly believe it.

‘Could it be that Firenze is just like me?’

Just as Syria had buried her face in Firenze’s b*ttocks, Firenze now buried his face between her own. His handsome features pressed so closely she could feel their shape against her skin.

At that moment, Firenze began to move his face even lower. The sensation was hot, like fire, passing between her cheeks and running straight down, lower and lower. It was as if he were determined to dig out and find something hidden between her thighs.

‘……That’s not my butt, though.’

Firenze’s hands, which had been kneading Syria’s b*ttocks, now settled in a straight line with his lips, spreading her plump perineum wide open on both sides.

Through the gap, Firenze pushed his tongue deeper from his lips, pressing up and down as he licked.

“Ah… no…. Not there… hhhm…….”

Syria couldn’t hold back any longer, and finally let out a moan through her clenched teeth.

He touched it. The sensation was soft and damp on a part of her body she’d never shown to anyone. She was sure it was Firenze’s tongue, usually so proper, now sweeping across her most private area.

‘I can’t put any strength into my body…….’

If she hadn’t been leaning against the desk, Syria thought she might have collapsed to the floor already. She couldn’t see exactly what was happening behind her, or below her waist, but she knew Firenze’s lips were repeatedly licking her secret place.

Now, Syria’s chest was completely pressed against the desk. The body she had tried to lift moments ago now drooped, her upper half stuck to the cold surface like gum.

‘Wh… What is this feeling?’

Her entire legs were seized by an unbearable sensation, as if she had to pee.

Slap, slurp, slurp.

“Heek……!”

She kept gasping in surprise, her breath catching so much she thought she might hiccup, so she swallowed her saliva instead.

‘It’s… too hot…….’

The heat spread all the way to her toes, making her feel as if she’d melt. Inside her chest, her heart pounded and tingled.

Firenze’s long fingers, once used to grip a sword, spread the gap wider, gently stroking her inner parts. When his fingers rubbed the sensitive spot in the center, a different sound mixed in.

Squish, squelch.

“Hik…! Hhm…….”

The stimulation grew stronger, and Syria’s legs squirmed. For the first time, she understood why Firenze had kept moving and shifting earlier. Her body acted on its own, writhing without her will.

Slurp, slurp.

The sound of something being drunk was vivid in her ears. Syria was desperate to know what was happening behind her.

While his index finger rubbed her cl*toris, Firenze lifted his lips and licked up the liquid running down her thighs.

“My Lady, you taste so sweet.”

Firenze’s overly sweet voice filled the room.

“Sir Firenze. Y-you were just supposed to touch……”

Syria managed to protest weakly.

“At first, that’s what I intended, but since you are so wet, My Lady, I must make sure you’re clean, mustn’t I?”

Slurp, slurp.

As he finished speaking, Firenze slowly licked her thigh from bottom to top, not missing a drop of the nectar that had trickled down.

“Haa… What kind of m… hhm, it feels so… strange……”

Her thoughts spilled out of her dazed mind and escaped her lips.

“……I think I’m losing my mind.”

Firenze’s voice was low, heavy with strained patience.

He finished speaking so quietly Syria could barely hear, then resumed kneading her intimate parts with strong hands, as if expressing his deep longing.

“My Lady, I think too much liquid is flowing out. I can’t let that happen.”

“W-what?”

Syria’s pale face flushed with embarrassment.

At first, she thought the liquid was Firenze’s saliva, but it was clearly flowing from her own body. Like a broken faucet, it kept dripping, and the more Firenze touched her, the less it stopped. If he hadn’t caught it with his mouth, it might have soaked the rug beneath them.

“Wh… What should I do……?”

Syria’s reason faltered in this unfamiliar situation, and fear crept in. She’d promised herself to act like a proper lady, but now her plans had gone far astray.

She pressed her palms into the desk, trying to lift her upper body.

“……My Lady, I think I need to block all this flowing liquid.”

“……Block it? H-how?”

Her blank face filled with confusion at his abrupt words.

“If you allow me, I’ll take care of it.”

Firenze’s voice, once sweet, now carried a sense of solemnity.

She couldn’t understand what he meant by blocking it, but she didn’t want any of the other servants to find out, so Syria asked again.

“……Are you sure?”

“Yes… I can definitely block it.”

His confident voice sounded like a knight determined to fend off monsters attacking the ducal residence. Without saying exactly how, Firenze simply asked her to trust him.

‘Surely… he’s Sir Firenze…….’

Syria, who had forgotten how she’d gotten into this situation, didn’t doubt him at all.

“I should warn you, it might hurt a little.”

As Syria pondered, he added this condition, making her hesitate further.

“……Hurt? How much……?”

“Hm… If it’s your first time, it’ll hurt a little, but you’ll be fine soon.”

Firenze’s fingers spread Syria’s valleys again, observing her as delicately as if examining her.

‘It’ll be alright……?’

In the novel, Firenze was Syria’s loyal knight, who never left her side even when she faced despair after marriage. Whether at her family home or after marriage, he served her alone, almost foolishly devoted, a man who held unwavering loyalty to the master he’d chosen. She couldn’t imagine him ever harming her.

“Um… Okay, then……”

As soon as she answered, the view before her darkened. A large shadow fell over her, as if her whole body was covered. Firenze, who had been kneeling, rose and pressed close against her.

His solid, muscular chest touched her back.

“Haa…….”

His hot, sticky breath sounded so close to her ear. The thought that the tongue which had just licked her embarrassing liquid was now near her ear made Syria’s face burn even redder.

Even after hours of hard training, Firenze had never breathed heavily before. Now, for the first time, rough breaths escaped him—a sound she’d never imagined.

Firenze, now standing, lifted all of Syria’s skirts at once and fixed them above her waist. Then he pressed her back with his arm. Pushed forward, her chest was once again perfectly pressed against the desk.

Firenze carefully pressed his legs against the backs of Syria’s thighs. His arousal had begun the moment her lips touched his behind.

Syria was startled again by the hot, wet presence touching her below.

‘I thought he stood up, but his lips are touching me again?’

But it was different. The sensation was warm, thick, and hard, like a bat fresh from a hot spring.

It was strange, but Syria had already agreed, so she braced herself, remembering Firenze’s warning that it might hurt.

Something heavy was pushing between her legs. Her soft flesh was forced aside, creating a gap.

Then, it reached the same spot that had made her cry out when Firenze licked her earlier. It felt like a solid pillar, but still soft where it touched her skin.

Squish, squelch.

‘Why does it feel like even more liquid is coming out…….’

It wasn’t just trickling, it was dripping. As soon as Firenze’s lips left, her juices kept running down her legs.

The heavy object slowly pressed into Syria’s narrow gap.

“Ah… Ah… It hurts……”

“You’ll be fine soon.”

Firenze patted her shoulder gently, his voice and touch both caring, but with a hint of something more.

Syria’s attention was completely focused below her belly. Something huge was clearly forcing its way in.

‘Why does blocking it hurt so much…….’

To be honest, Syria had expected him to use a simple cloth or magical tool. She knew nothing about this world. But the sensation pushed deeper, forcing into her inner walls.

‘How much deeper is it going?’

It was as if……

‘No way…. Could it be…….’

Suddenly, the truth hit her and Syria’s face went pale. She was more interested in men’s backsides, but she wasn’t so naive as to not know what was on the other side.