His voice was teasing. Innocent. Like he had no idea why his hand was currently groping her massive tit.

Helena trembled. Her free hand moved to the neckline of her dress. Fingers hooking into the fabric.

She pulled.

The dress's neckline stretched down—revealing pale, creamy skin. The swell of her breast. And then—

'Pop.'

Her left breast spilled free.

No bra.

Of course there was no bra.

Viktor's eyes widened as his hand—previously over fabric—now touched bare skin. Warm. Soft. Impossibly smooth.

His palm pressed against her breast, fingers sinking into yielding flesh. He could feel her heartbeat—rapid, pounding—against his hand.

And her nipple.

'Fuck.'

It was hard. Swollen from last night sucking and healings. Brown and thick, pressing into his palm like a pebble.

"Aah~" Helena bit her lip, suppressing a moan as his fingers instinctively closed around that sensitive nub.

"Young Master," she breathed, barely audible over the wind. "I-I'm—"

"Hmm?" Viktor pinched. Gently. Just enough pressure to make her gasp.

Helena's hips jerked. Her thighs clenched around Rusty's neck. "I'm... I wanted to tell you... something..."

Her other hand moved—leaving his, trailing down her own body. To the hem of her skirt.

She bunched the fabric up. Slowly. Inch by inch.

Exposing more pale thigh. The junction where leg met hip. And then—

Panties.

Simple. White. Lace-trimmed.

But soaked.

The fabric was dark with wetness, clinging to the puffy outline of her pussy lips. Viktor could feel the indent—the way the material molded to her slit, outlining every fold.

His cock, which had been at half-mast since Helena sat down, hardened completely. It strained against his pants, pressing into the curve of her ass.

Helena felt it. Oh, she definitely felt it. Her breath quickened, chest heaving, making her free breast bounce with each inhale.

Viktor's hand left her nipple, trailing down—over her ribs, across her soft stomach, until his fingers reached the bunched-up skirt.

"What are you trying to show me, wife?" he murmured, lips brushing her ear.

Helena guided his hand lower. Between her spread thighs. Until his palm pressed flat against her panty-covered mound.

'Oh fuck.'

The heat was incredible. And the wetness—even through the fabric, he could feel how soaked she was. His fingers pressed into the material, molding it to her slit, feeling the puffy lips part slightly under pressure.

"I'm..." Helena's voice cracked. "I'm happy... Young Master... I'm so happy..."

Viktor's middle finger found the indent of her entrance. He traced it through the fabric—up and down, feeling the way her hips rolled slightly, chasing the pressure.

"Happy about what?" he asked, genuinely curious now.

Helena's hand covered his again. Pressing his palm harder against her pussy, grinding herself against his touch.

"About... about carrying..." She couldn't finish. Her breathing was too ragged, "carrying our child."

"RRRARRRGH—WHOOOSHH—"

Rusty burst through a thick fog bank. Droplets of moisture clung to his translucent wings, refracting sunlight into tiny rainbows.

And then—clear sky.

The sun hung above them, warm and golden. Below, clouds stretched like an endless white ocean, thick enough to look solid.

The Tower rose in the distance, its purple-pink glow visible even in daylight.

"Beautiful!" Elara's voice—shaky but genuinely awed—came from behind.

"Of course it is," Viktor said, his eyes locked on Helena's face.

Helena wasn't looking at the sky. Wasn't looking at the clouds or the sun or the breathtaking view.

She was looking at him.

Her head tilted back, brown eyes blinking up at him. Wet. Teary. Not from sadness—from need.

Her lips parted slightly. Trembling.

'Kiss me.'

She didn't say it out loud. Didn't need to. Her entire body screamed it.

Viktor smirked. "What happened, Helena?"

Her hand—still guiding his—pressed his middle finger deeper into her pussy. The wet heat was incredible, her inner walls clenching around the digit like a vice.

"Young... Master..." she whimpered.

His other hand, still on her bare breast, squeezed. Hard. His thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple, rolling the sensitive flesh.

Helena's back arched. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, breath catching in her throat.

Viktor leaned down, his lips an inch from hers. "You want something, wife?"

"I—I want—!"

His finger curled inside her. Finding that spot. That perfect, spongy spot that made her see stars.

Helena's hips bucked. Her thighs clamped around Rusty's neck so hard the dragon made a surprised "Kyuu?" sound.

"You want what?" Viktor's voice was a dark purr.

"I want... you... inside..." Helena gasped, grinding herself against his hand. "I want... to feel... Young Master's... cock..."

Viktor's grin widened. His cock was rock-hard now, pressed firmly into the crack of her ass through his pants. With each movement of the dragon, it rubbed against her, the friction delicious torture.

"Hmm." He pretended to think about it. "Not sure I'm in the mood right now."

Helena's eyes went wide. Desperate. "P-please—Young Master—I—!"

His finger withdrew completely. She whimpered at the loss.

Then two fingers pushed in. Stretching her. Filling her more.

"Ahhnn—!"

Viktor pumped them slowly. In. Out. The wet squelching sounds were barely audible over the wind, but he could feel it—the way her pussy gripped him, the way arousal coated his knuckles.

His other hand left her breast, trailing down. Over her stomach. Lower.

Until his fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties.

He didn't pull them down. Just shifted them aside—exposing her completely.

Cool air hit Helena's soaked pussy. She gasped, thighs trembling.

Viktor's fingers—the ones that had been inside her—withdrew. They glistened in the sunlight, coated in clear arousal.

He brought them to his mouth. Licked them clean.

"Delicious," he murmured.

Helena whimpered.

Then his hand returned. But this time, instead of two fingers—he used three.

Ring. Middle. Index.

All three pressed against her entrance. Slowly pushing inside.

"Ohhh—! Young—young Master—! T-too—too much—!"

Viktor leaned down, his teeth catching her earlobe. "Please..."

He pushed. Slowly. Relentlessly.

Helena's pussy stretched. Her entrance went white with pressure, struggling to accommodate the girth of three thick fingers.

Then—pop.

They slipped inside.

"AAHHHHNN!"

Helena's scream was pure pleasure. Her head thrashed against his shoulder, brown hair whipping in the wind.

Schlk schlk schlk

Viktor pumped his fingers. Slow. Deep. Curling them with each thrust, dragging against her inner walls.

His other hand returned to her clit. Thumb pressing against the swollen nub. Rubbing. Circling.

"Now," he said conversationally, as if he wasn't currently finger-fucking his wife mid-flight on a dragon, "there's something I've been meaning to ask."

Helena could barely hear him over the roaring in her ears. "W-what—what is—ahhn!"

His fingers curled. Hard. Hitting that spot again.

"It's been quite some time," Viktor continued, his voice a dark rumble. "Since we did anal."

Helena's eyes went wide.

"So I was thinking..." His thumb pressed harder on her clit. His three fingers pumped faster. "How about you let me fuck that ass of yours, wife?"

"I—I—ahhn—Young Master—I—!"

His middle finger—the one in the center—pushed deeper. Until it pressed against her cervix.

At the same time, his thumb and forefinger pinched her clit.

And his other hand—the one on her stomach—pressed down.

All three sensations hit simultaneously.

Helena's mind shattered.

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Her scream was inhuman. Primal. Her entire body went rigid, back arching so hard her spine curved like a bow.

Her pussy clamped down—a vice-grip that nearly crushed Viktor's fingers.

And then she gushed.

Clear fluid erupted from her, spraying past his fingers, soaking his hand, her thighs, dripping onto Rusty's scales.

She squirted. Hard. Wave after wave of fluid pulsing out as her orgasm ripped through her like lightning.

Her eyes rolled back. Tongue lolled out. Drool dripped from her open mouth.

Behind them, Elara screamed.

"VIKTOR! WE'RE ABOUT TO COLLIDE!"

Viktor's head snapped up.

The Tower.

They were heading straight for it.

Not at it. 'Into' it.

Rusty was flying at full speed, wings tucked, body streamlined—aimed directly at the thick stone walls of the Tower's base.

"KYUUUUU~!" Rusty's battle cry echoed.

"SHIT—RUSTY, PULL UP—!"

But the dragon didn't pull up.

He accelerated.

Helena, still mid-orgasm, screamed again—but this time from shock mixing with pleasure. "AaaaNNNNnGggHHH—YOUNG MASTER—!"

Elara's grip on Viktor's waist tightened to bone-crushing levels. "WE'RE GOING TO DIE—WE'RE GOING TO—!"

And in an instant, Viktor's eyes widened as he heard both women's cries while colliding with the thick black walls of the tower, and instantly everything dissolved.

Not him, but his sight, as if he had entered water.

"Khuck—" And in an instant, everything became silent.

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