The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Chapter 268: Another Woods Passion (1)

The forest seemed to hold its breath alongside them, the hum of crickets and the rustling of leaves fading into a faint backdrop. Cerys’s words hung in the air, soft and unassuming, yet carrying the weight of a cannonball. Mikhailis blinked, his mind struggling to process the implications of her question.

"Do you want to... continue where we left off?"

Her voice was steady, but her green eyes betrayed a mix of emotions—curiosity, nervousness, and perhaps a spark of something bolder. Her cheeks, still tinged with a blush, made her look both fierce and vulnerable. Mikhailis swallowed hard, his gaze briefly darting to her lips before returning to her eyes.

"That’s... quite the question, Lone Wolf," he managed, his usual sharp wit faltering under the sheer gravity of the moment. His voice was softer than usual, stripped of its usual sarcasm and bravado. He sat up slightly, his back pressing against a tree as he tried to gather his thoughts.

Cerys shifted on her knees, her posture rigid but her fingers fidgeting slightly as though searching for something to anchor her. Her gaze remained locked on his, unwavering yet questioning. "Well?" she asked, her tone sharper now, tinged with the impatience that was so inherently her.

Mikhailis let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his damp hair. "You’re really throwing me for a loop here, you know that?" He tilted his head, his glasses catching the faint moonlight as he studied her face. "Are you... serious?"

Cerys’s lips quirked into a small, nervous smile. "You’re the one who got us into this mess," she retorted, her voice softer than usual but carrying a playful edge. "I’m just... trying to make sense of it."

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that, though it came out more like a huff of air. "Oh, so this is my fault now?" His smirk returned, though it was less confident than usual. "I didn’t ask Vyrelda to go on a drunken rampage or for us to get tangled up like—" He cut himself off, realizing he was rambling.

Cerys raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of amusement flickering across her face. "You’re deflecting, Your Highness," she pointed out, leaning back slightly but not breaking eye contact. "It’s a simple question. Yes or no?"@@@@

Mikhailis opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to respond. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. Finally, he let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he met her gaze head-on.

"Yes," he said quietly, the single word carrying more weight than he expected. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears as he watched her reaction.

Cerys blinked, her cheeks darkening even further. For a moment, she looked as though she might say something—maybe a retort or a sarcastic comment—but instead, she simply nodded. Her movements were deliberate as she shifted closer, her knees brushing against his. The proximity sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he couldn’t stop his breath from hitching.

"Alright, then," she murmured, her voice barely audible as she leaned in. Her green eyes softened, the sharpness giving way to something more vulnerable, more real. Her hair fell in loose waves around her face, framing her features in a way that made his chest tighten.

Mikhailis couldn’t resist any longer. His hand moved of its own accord, rising to cup her cheek. The warmth of her skin beneath his palm sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt her lean into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. He hesitated for only a moment before tilting his head and closing the remaining distance between them.

Their lips met, tentative at first, a soft, uncertain brush that sent sparks shooting through him. Cerys’s breath hitched, and she pressed closer, her hands rising to rest lightly on his shoulders. The kiss deepened slowly, the initial hesitation melting away as they gave in to the moment.

She nodded, her green eyes dark with lust, and reached for the button of his pants. Her movements were slow and deliberate, teasing as she unzipped his pants and tugged them down.

The cool night air on his bare skin was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from her body, and Mikhailis shivered involuntarily. His hands remained on her ass, kneading the soft flesh and eliciting a soft moan from her.

Her fingers danced along the waistband of his boxers, a teasing touch that drove him wild. She dipped her fingers below the fabric, her nails scraping lightly over the sensitive skin.

"Fuck," Mikhailis breathed, his hips bucking against her touch.

Her gaze was heavy with lust as she traced the outline of his cock through the fabric, her fingers ghosting over the hardness that strained against the thin material. She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want you, Your Highness."

Those words sent a wave of heat crashing through him, and he pulled her in for another searing kiss.

"I’m all yours, Lone Wolf," he murmured against her lips, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he guided her movements.

Cerys shifted her weight, lifting herself off him just enough to tug his boxers down. The cool night air felt delicious on his heated skin, and he gasped as her hand wrapped around his shaft.

Her touch was tentative at first, exploratory, her fingers curling around him and stroking lightly. But her grip quickly grew firmer, her movements growing bolder as she gained confidence.

"It’s huge... As always..." She couldn’t help but marvel the size that she believe is bigger than normal people capable of, to the point that she wonder if he is an orc.

He was already rock hard, his thing throbbing in her hand as she stroked him, her grip firm and confident. The friction sent waves of pleasure washing over him, and he let out a low groan, his head falling back against the tree trunk.

His hips jerked involuntarily, and Cerys grinned, her green eyes alight with mischief.

"You like that, Your Highness?" she purred, her voice low and husky with desire.

"Yea..." Mikhailis stuttered, his usual eloquence failing him in the face of such pleasure.

"Good." She increased the pace of her strokes, her grip tightening as she pumped his shaft.