Carine hesitantly opened her mouth.
A moment later, her tongue gingerly licked the underside of Hernán's glans.
The only thing she had ever touched with her tongue on a man's body was this: her still-lover, Hernán.
It didn't feel particularly pleasurable—just a faint, awkward itch—as her inexperienced tongue clumsily flicked against him.
"The mushroom-shaped part… Start from underneath," Hernán advised, his voice low but patient.
Though he wasn't exactly experienced either, he at least understood what felt good—on his own body, at least.
"Quiet," Carine snapped coldly, her face flushed with shame.
Hernán merely shrugged and fell silent.
Still, just the sight of it was deeply satisfying.
A woman with silver hair—the royal family's trademark—had her face nestled between his legs.
And now she was awkwardly licking his cock.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't excited.
"Ah!"
His cock twitched as the pleasure surged, and the hero—surprised—pulled her tongue back with a gasp.
"Weren't you already fully hard?" she muttered.
"It might grow a little more if I get too excited."
"Even more than this?"
She eyed his shaft with uncertainty, her lips slightly parted as if trying to measure just how far it might go.
That faint anxiety on her normally composed face stirred something in him.
He didn't dislike Carine's cold demeanor.
In fact, it was that sternness that helped them survive during their journey. When he was falling apart, it was her icy focus that steadied him.
Still, he had always wondered what expressions she might make… once that mask of composure finally cracked.
"Can I really put this in my mouth… and suck it?"
He wanted to see that stern face break open with unfamiliar emotions.
Her hesitance, her blush—it made her seem fragile, precious. That reserved expression of hers, now inches from his swollen cock, stirred an indescribable thrill.
"Can't you just use your hands instead?" she asked awkwardly.
Perhaps she meant to say the mucous contact was only necessary at climax anyway?
It wasn't the first time she misunderstood how overwhelmed he was getting.
But Hernán shook his head.
"You might hesitate at the crucial moment. If that happens, it'll be too late."
His mind and body were already burning. The ache in his head throbbed, a pounding heat urging him to find release.
He needed her. He needed this.
"Alright…"
Carine forced herself to keep a neutral expression and slowly wrapped her lips around the tip.
She gagged slightly, her throat tightening as she pushed forward, inch by inch, until half his length disappeared into her mouth.
"Don't force it…"
He felt her mouth contract slightly, her tongue still awkwardly exploring him.
She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed, her face reddened from exertion.
A minute passed.
"Carine?" Hernán said softly.
She raised her eyes again. This time, her face was flushed a deep red.
"Aren't you going to move?"
The moment he said it, a sudden tightness gripped the tip of his cock.
Carine yanked her head back and coughed violently, pulling him from her throat.
"Gah! Cough, h-hah…"
Saliva dripped from her mouth, strands of it hanging from her chin to his shaft. Her royal dignity, her usual haughty poise—it had all melted away.
Hernán gently patted her back, his expression concerned.
"You okay?"
"How am I supposed to move like that?" she grumbled, catching her breath.
"You bob your head and swirl your tongue… like this," he mimicked awkwardly, remembering what the Demon King had done.
Carine scowled and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"She did that to you?"
"…Do we really need to talk about that now?"
When he avoided answering, the hero bit her lip in frustration and leaned forward again, bringing her mouth back to his shaft.
"If she could do it, so can I."
His cock, now slick with her saliva, looked even more intimidating.
Carine let out a small groan and slowly accepted him again, this time with more care.
"Mmm…"
A pleased sigh escaped him. This was different.
There was no guilt here, no uncertainty—just intimacy between two people who loved each other.
Unlike his hurried encounters with Potty… or the tension-filled intimacy with the Demon King… this felt pure.
"I love you," he whispered.
Her long hair was threaded gently through his fingers. Though her face remained mostly unreadable, her heavy nose-breathing revealed her effort.
"It'll happen soon," he warned, voice low with urgency.
Whether it was nerves or genuine arousal from being with the man she loved for the first time, Carine's body trembled.
His cock swelled inside her, harder than ever, his climax imminent.
Hernán locked eyes with her and gripped her hair slightly tighter.
"Mmgh!"
Perhaps he was too forceful.
Carine recoiled, coughing violently again as she yanked her head back.
"Ugh! If you just grab my head like that—cough—what are you doing?!"
"I was just trying to say—"
He trailed off, watching a thick string of semen drip from the tip of his shaft, her lips stained white.
"…Are you done already?" she asked with a frown.
"That's… yeah. The mucous contact happened," he muttered. "How's my headache?"
It had eased significantly—but hadn't disappeared.
He considered asking her to do it again, but when he saw her expression…
Carine was rolling her tongue in her mouth, disgusted.
"I didn't know it would taste so… fishy."
She had never tasted semen before. She assumed it wouldn't be so bad—especially since Sharpie hadn't reacted poorly—but now her face said otherwise.
"Let's clean up and sleep."
Hernán left the bed and gently wiped her mouth with a towel.
She stood and began brushing her disheveled hair as she walked toward the door.
"Want to shower?" he asked.
"Hm," was all she said before vanishing from the room.
Left alone, Hernán lay back on the bed.
"Are we going to keep doing this from now on…?"
Talking aloud to an empty room felt more lonely than usual.
Her curt tone didn't bother him as much as the fact that she hadn't returned quickly.
He sighed with a bitter smile and closed his eyes.
The Next Morning
Things were awkward between him and the hero.
Despite having shared something intimate, it felt like the gears of their long-standing relationship were now grinding instead of turning smoothly.
"L… want some tea?" she asked.
Hernán glanced at her face.
Cold and unreadable, just like always—but now there was a tension beneath the surface that words couldn't explain.
"Thanks."
He accepted the teacup, deciding to believe she was simply embarrassed and unsure how to act after what had happened.
The rest of the women began to gather at the table, including the Demon King.
And Potty.
The same Potty he'd spent time with yesterday… in the bathroom.
"Here," he said, pushing a plate toward her, voice stiff.
If he acted too familiar, it would remind them both too much of what had happened.
"Um, thanks… for yesterday," Potty whispered shyly.
Hernán's ears turned hot.
Thankfully, the Demon King was busy yelling at Silnia across the room, so no one noticed their interaction.
"By the way, if… if it's okay, today—"
Her pale pink hair slipped down her flushed cheeks. Normally, it was always tightly bound.
"Today?"
He couldn't help but think of her soft bunny ears hidden beneath that hair.
And that led, inevitably, to the memory of her mouth—her lips, her tongue—
His cock twitching at the edge of her small mouth.
He shook his head quickly, trying to dispel the images.
"How long do we have to stay trapped in here?!"
"Silnia…"
"How much longer do I have to live with this former Demon Lord pretending to be harmless?!"
Sharpie hugged her food tray with a pout as Silnia glared.
"Wasn't our mission to kill the Demon King and return home?"
"With the Demon King stuck here, the demon armies should have stopped. Our goal is practically complete."
The saintess tried to calm her, but Silnia wasn't having it.
"The demon attacks were never that severe! The last Demon King died just twenty years ago—"
"That's twenty years to you," Karine interrupted coldly. "Not to us humans."
"Then what's the real reason we're still here?!"
"Because we might need her," Karine said, glancing at Hernán.
Silnia growled in frustration. "Explain it in a way that makes sense!"
"Um, excuse me…"
Sharpie raised her hand like a schoolgirl.
"Didn't everyone already know the way to get out of here?"
"Stop talking, Demon King," Karine said sharply.
But someone else spoke up instead.
"What… what way?"
It was Potty.
She was half-hiding behind her robes again, but her eyes peeked through, golden and trembling.
"I don't know anything about it… What's the way out?"
Sharpie smiled slightly.
"Well, it's simple: just reach 25 people!"
She hurriedly added more, fearing Silnia might cut her down on the spot.
"There's no one else here, right? So unless some of you are infertile…"
Disgust rippled through the group.
Sharpie grinned and clutched Hernán's chair.
"There are 19 of us. All we have to do is give birth to Hernán's children!"
"You're seriously letting her live after saying that?" Silnia hissed.
"Do you have another way out?" Karine asked coolly.
"But even if we start now, it'll take five or six years to have that many kids!"
The saintess frowned.
By then, the outside world would've moved on. Their achievements forgotten.
"Are we just going to rot here forever?" Silnia yelled. "Buried in this place?"
"I… I don't want that," Potty murmured.
Hernán felt dizzy.
He remembered a story from his childhood—about an ancient god named Drank.
A cruel being who fed on the despair of mortals, who turned hope to torment and joy to sorrow.
And now, they were the mortals in the story.
"Everyone… go to your rooms," Karine ordered.
"Take your food and go."
Sharpie darted away, followed by the saintess.
"Let's talk later," Karine told her as she passed. The saintess gave a faint nod.
Soon, only Hernán, Carine, and Potty remained.
"Aren't you going in?"
Potty flinched at Karine's voice but didn't move right away.
"Um… I've had stomach aches lately. I think I'll stay in the bathroom for a while."
She turned her head slightly, robe hiding her face—but Hernán saw her golden eyes glance at him, deliberate and gleaming.
"I'll just be in there…"
"…Do what you want."
Karine sighed and turned to Hernán.
He remained seated, silent.
"Hernán!"
Only when she called his name again did he finally rise, still looking back toward Potty.