Viktor's mouth latched onto her nipple immediately.
His lips sealed around the inch-long nub, tongue swirling as he 'sucked'—hard.
"Ahhn—!" Mira's gasp was sharp, her body stiffening against him. Her fingers tightened in his hair, nails scraping his scalp.
Warm milk flooded Viktor's mouth in thick streams. The taste was sweet—honeyed and rich, coating his tongue as he drank deeply. Each pull drew more from her swollen breast, the soft flesh yielding under the pressure of his sucking.
But Viktor wasn't gentle.
His teeth grazed the sensitive tip, applying just enough pressure to make her wince. His hand gripped her waist bruisingly tight, holding her in place as he fed.
Mira's breath hitched, her eyes fluttering half-closed. "N-not... not so rough—nnh!"
Viktor ignored her. He sucked harder, cheeks hollowing, drawing milk faster than she could comfortably produce. The warmth spread through his body immediately—the Fluid Benefits ability kicking in, restoring stamina with every swallow.
Energy surged back into his limbs. The trembling in his legs ceased. The burning in his lungs faded to nothing.
After what felt like an eternity—but was probably only thirty seconds—Viktor pulled back with a wet 'pop'.
Mira winced, her hand flying to her breast instinctively. Her nipple was swollen, darker than before, glistening with saliva and residual milk. A faint red mark—a hickey—was already forming around the areola where he'd sucked too hard.
She looked up at him, green eyes wide and glassy, breath coming in short pants. "You... you're too rough..."
Viktor wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, milk smearing across his lips. He grinned—sharp, predatory.
"Not yet, Mira."
She blinked, confused. "Wh-what?"
Viktor gestured toward the center of the chamber with his chin. "Let me first fuck that wooden doll."
Mira's brow furrowed. She turned, following his gesture, her eyes landing on the wooden knight standing motionless in the middle of the black stone floor.
Her expression shifted from confusion to alarm in an instant.
"That... that thing?" Mira took an instinctive step backward, her hand still pressed against her exposed breast. "You're going to fight 'that'?"
Viktor didn't answer. He was already moving, rolling his shoulders, cracking his neck side to side.
The wooden knight responded.
It moved.
'Instantly'.
One moment it stood frozen like a statue; the next, it blurred across the distance separating them, wooden sword raised overhead in a brutal downward chop.
Viktor exploded forward to meet it.
CRACK!
Their blades collided mid-chamber, the impact sending splinters flying. The sound echoed like thunder.
"HUSBAND!" Mira's scream tore from her throat.
She lunged forward, instinct overriding reason, but—
A hand clamped down on her wrist.
Mira jerked to a stop, spinning to see Elara gripping her arm tightly, amber eyes wide but... calm.
"It's fine," Elara said quietly, her voice trembling only slightly. "They fought before."
Mira stared at her. "What?"
"He..." Elara swallowed, her gaze flicking back to the fight. "He fought it earlier. And lost. Badly."
Mira's attention snapped back to Viktor just as he ducked under a horizontal slash, the wooden blade passing millimeters over his head.
But Elara's eyes weren't on the fight anymore.
They had dropped lower.
To Mira's chest.
Her left breast was still exposed, hanging heavy and full, pale skin glistening with Viktor's saliva. The pink nipple—swollen and marked with that fresh hickey—leaked thin streams of milk that dripped slowly down the curve of her breast, soaking into the fabric bunched beneath it.
Elara stared.
Mira noticed.
A slow smile curved Mira's lips—wicked, teasing. She shifted slightly, adjusting her stance so her breast swayed gently, drawing Elara's gaze even more.
"Are these bigger than yours?" Mira asked sweetly, her voice dripping with mock innocence.
Elara flinched like she'd been slapped. "Wh-what?!"
Her face went crimson instantly, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
Mira chuckled—a low, throaty sound that made Elara's blush deepen. She finally tucked her breast back into her dress, pulling the fabric up from the underboob, though the material was now damp and clung to her skin.
"Relax," Mira said, turning her attention back to the fight. "I'm just teasing."
Elara said nothing. She just stood there, face burning, unable to form words.
Viktor sidestepped a thrust aimed at his sternum, his practice sword snapping up to parry the follow-up slash.
CRACK!
Wood met wood. The impact jarred his arms, but this time he was ready. He twisted his wrist, redirecting the knight's blade downward, then spun into a counter-strike aimed at the exposed shoulder joint.
The wooden knight blocked it.
But Viktor didn't stop.
He pressed forward, chaining attacks—horizontal slash, vertical chop, diagonal cut—each strike flowing into the next with the fluid grace of Kaida's Blade Dance.
The wooden knight parried each one. But Viktor noticed something.
'It's not countering as fast.'
His Tactical Genius ability was kicking in, reading the knight's patterns, calculating optimal strike angles. And more importantly—
'I'm starting to layer my abilities.'
A feint left, then Shadow Walk through the floor shadow, emerging behind the knight.
His blade swung for the back of the knee joint.
The wooden knight spun, impossibly fast, blocking the strike.
But Viktor was already moving. Speed Acceleration triggered, his body blurring as he closed the gap, slamming his shoulder into the knight's chest.
THUD!
The wooden construct staggered backward—just one step, but it was progress.
Viktor grinned, breathing hard. 'Got you.'
The wooden knight recovered instantly. It lunged forward, blade thrusting toward Viktor's throat.
Ultra Instinct screamed.
Viktor's body bent backward, spine arching as the wooden sword whistled past his face. He planted his hand on the ground, using the momentum to kick upward—a spinning heel aimed at the knight's helmet.
The knight dodged.
It shadow-walked, vanishing into the floor.
Viktor's foot hit empty air.
'Shit—where—?'
Survival Foresight exploded across his skin—goosebumps erupting down his arms.
Behind.
Viktor spun, raising his sword defensively.
Too slow.
The wooden knight's fist slammed into his guard, the force sending Viktor skidding backward across the stone.
His legs burned. His arms ached. His lungs heaved.
'Stamina's dropping again.'
Viktor's eyes flicked toward Mira, who stood near the entrance watching with wide, worried eyes.
The wooden knight advanced.
Viktor made his decision.
He kicked off the ground, launching himself not at the knight—but 'past' it, sprinting toward Mira.
"Wh-what?!" Mira's eyes widened.
Viktor didn't slow down.
He reached her in three strides, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her against him forcibly. His hand gripped her ass—hard, fingers sinking into the soft flesh through her dress.
"Husband—mmph!"
Viktor's mouth crashed into hers.
It wasn't gentle.
His tongue forced her lips apart, invading her mouth, sucking on her tongue like he was trying to devour her whole. His hand squeezed her ass bruisingly tight, pulling her hips flush against his.
Mira's eyes went wide, tears forming at the corners from the sheer intensity. She made a muffled sound—half gasp, half moan—as he sucked her lower lip between his teeth.
Viktor drank from her. Not just her saliva, but the essence of her—the Fluid Benefits ability activating again, restoring stamina through the kiss.
Energy flooded back into his body.
After what felt like an eternity but was maybe five seconds, Viktor pulled back with a wet 'smack'. "Muwaah..."
Mira stumbled backward, released suddenly, her legs barely supporting her. Her lips were swollen, glistening with saliva, her face flushed deep red. Tears streaked down her cheeks from the force of the kiss.
"Hus... band..." she whispered breathlessly, dazed.
Viktor didn't respond.
His cock was rock-hard now, straining visibly against his pants. The outline was obscene, pressing against the fabric.
But he ignored it.
He spun on his heel, stamina fully restored, and launched himself back into the fight.
The wooden knight was already mid-charge.
Viktor met it head-on.
CRACK!
Their swords collided again, and the dance resumed.
Mira stood there, hand pressed to her mouth, legs trembling, watching him fight with wide, glassy eyes as she felt so horny, yet her ruthless husband didn't seem to care.
Beside her, Elara stared in absolute horror.
'What... what kind of madness is this—?!'
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