Bathed in the pale light of the rising moon, the mansion stood, cold yet beautiful. On the top floor of the west annex, at the far end, lived a young master who was as lovely and fragile as he was exquisitely delicate.

‘And I am the wicked dream demon who plans to devour that pretty young master whole.’

Moed swallowed, imagining the feast that was about to begin. Although she had yet to catch even a glimpse of the young master’s black hair, the anticipation had already made her n*pples tighten and a sharp tremor had begun to ripple through her.

When all the other servants had fallen asleep, Moed slipped out of the servants’ quarters alone. Walking on tiptoe like a cat, she took silent, careful steps.

Of course, she was heading for the top floor of the west annex and the room where the unsuspecting young master was lying asleep, breathing softly and peacefully.

Gathering her rough skirt tightly in both hands, Moed climbed the stairs and walked down the corridor until she reached her destination.

When she pushed open the enormous, heavy door — which required her to crane her neck just to take it all in — the first thing she saw was the bed.

It was enormous — so large, wide, high and soft that five or six adults could lie on it and indulge in an orgy without running out of space.

Aside from that, there was nothing else. Unless one didn’t count the balcony curtains, the carpet and the small bedside table as furniture, of course.

It was a vast room with only a bed. Was young Master Ersian being neglected?

There was no need to worry, though. The reason a single bed occupied this room was simple: it was Ersian Walter Hessen’s bedroom.

The Hessen family was the Empire’s foremost ducal house. In keeping with that prestige, the young master occupied the entire west annex and commanded dozens of servants.

It was not only because he was the duke’s son, though; there were simply far too many rooms in the annex.

For instance, the bedroom door opened onto a grand bathroom. Another door led to a dressing room, which in turn led to a reception room. Beyond that was a study, followed by another reception room, another opulent bathroom, a redundant office, and a room with no clear function. Then came more rooms, and more rooms, and more rooms… an endless parade of rooms.

Perhaps because she had scrubbed all of them within an inch of their lives that day, Moed found her thoughts drifting in strange directions.

She shook her head violently, as if to fling away the useless thoughts. This was no time to think of dust or dirty water.

Moed swallowed again. Her mind might wander, but her body did not. A dream demon impatient for the sweet essence she would soon consume, she slipped silently into the room and climbed onto the bed.

‘As expected of me. I was born to be a dream demon.’

Moed admired her handiwork as she looked down at the young master, who lay perfectly still in a proper sleeping posture between her widely braced knees.

Although he pretended otherwise, the young master was actually afraid of the dark. He always slept with the curtains half-drawn.

Moonlight split down the middle and spilled through the terrace windows, casting a pale glow over his sleeping face.

Moed gazed at him, her small mouth slightly parted.

He was beautiful whenever she saw him. His skin was so white that it was hard to believe it belonged to an adult man, and it was so clear that faint blue veins showed beneath it. His lips were always a soft shade of pink.

When he was awake, he looked cold and sharp, like a winter sky. But when he slept, the clarity of his features softened his expression, making his face appear gentler.

Moed brushed her fingertips over his neat, comb-like black eyelashes. The young master seemed to frown for a moment, then fell quiet again.

While there was no direct correlation between appearance and the taste of essence, something lovely to look at was always welcome. And if that essence happened to taste sweet, too, then there was nothing more to say.

‘Pretty, adorable young master Ersian.’

Lost in her endless admiration, Moed lowered her head and pressed a kiss onto his plump lips. That brief touch was enough to draw a wisp of his essence into her. The sweetness swirled through her hungry body before dispersing.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she tilted her head back. His essence was always intoxicating.

The appetizer had stirred excitement. Her pristine white panties, issued to all maids, were soaking wet. Moed carefully removed the blanket and sat on the young master’s stomach. Although she lacked the impressive muscles of a knight, her flat, lean stomach was clearly visible through her thin muslin shirt.

Moed pressed her wet bottom against it and rubbed. The soft fabric clung gently to her sensitive skin, arousing her.

“Ugh…”

The v*gina, ready and waiting for the p*nis, twitched and released fluid. The underwear, now completely soaked, began to drip. Her awake, olive eyes looked down.

Along with the underwear, which had lost its purpose, the young master’s shirt was also soaked with lewd fluid.

She let out a satisfied sigh as she saw the round stain she had left behind. Moed opened her mouth and sucked her finger.

The bodily fluids of sleepwalkers can be arousing for their prey, which can be useful for m*sturbation. Applying a saliva-soaked finger to a stiff n*pple can intensify the sensation.

Moed threw off her nightdress-style one-piece, which all maids wore as an undergarment. Not having worn a bra in the first place, she soon found herself wearing nothing but a pair of white underwear.

“Haa.”

Moed paid no heed, hastily pressing her damp hands to her chest to prevent them from drying out. Her uniquely voluptuous br*asts — a defining feature of a succubus — were gently squeezed by her small hands.

The same fingers that had teased her before now quickly touched her n*pples. A shiver of pleasure shot through her and she moaned involuntarily.

Moed pressed and rubbed the pink flesh, trying hard not to climax too quickly. She moved her hips steadily as she did so.

As Moed’s breathing became more labored, the young master’s neatly arched eyebrows quivered in unison. Moed gazed down in rapture at the beautiful face slowly contorting before him.

“Mmmph.”

The fully swollen cl*toris was pressed firmly against the belly through the damp fabric, which rose and fell shallowly over the twitching lower region.

A dull pleasure made the pale body tremble violently. Moed lowered her hand and rubbed the protruding flesh through her underwear. After grinding her hips back and forth and tormenting her cl*toris, Moed reached a silent climax.

Her body arched like a crescent moon in the darkness as she fell backwards. Lying on her knees, Moed panted, trying to catch her breath. The prospect of being preyed upon had stimulated her v*gina, which throbbed inside her, urging her on.

“Ugh, um.”