My Taboo Harem!-Chapter 302: Goddess’s Tongue (r-18)

She slid off the desk with slow, liquid grace—legs unwrapping from his waist like silk falling away, feet finding the floor without sound, her body still pressed to his in lingering worship.

Her hands never left him: one stayed splayed on his chest, feeling the thunder of his heart like war drums; the other trailed down his sternum, nails dragging lightly over skin still marked from her earlier kisses—faint red trails blooming like sacred sigils.

She sank to her knees.

Not hurriedly. Not submissively.

Like a goddess descending to claim an offering she had every right to take—slow, regal, inevitable. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Her eyes never left his even as she knelt—dark, glittering, pupils blown wide with ancient, ravenous hunger. The long midnight dress pooled around her like spilled starlight; the silk whispered against the carpet as she settled, thighs pressed together, back straight, chin tilted up so she could still hold his gaze even from below, a queen on her knees before her equal.

Her fingers found the ruined waistband of his pants.

She didn’t yank.

She peeled them.

The one button—slow, deliberate—each fastening slipping free under her touch like it had been waiting eons for her permission. With a lift of his shirt, she revealed another inch of skin: the sharp V disappearing in his hips, the taut skin stretched over muscle that jumped under her breath.

She kissed each new sliver of flesh as it appeared.

A soft press of lips to the dip just above his belt—warm, lingering, reverent. A slow drag of her soft warm long tongue along the line where abdomen met hip—tasting salt, tasting heat, tasting his bloodline of his dragon heritage that had no business being felt there.

Another kiss lower, right at the edge of fabric, open-mouthed and sacred, sucking gently until a faint red mark bloomed there like a blessing.

She worshipped him piece by piece—small, eternal territories she claimed with mouth and breath and the lightest graze of teeth, leaving wet trails of her wet tongue where it passed that shone like liquid starlight on his skin.

When the zipper gave way, she hooked her fingers into the waistband and tugged downward—inch by torturous inch—until the pants slid past his hips and pooled at his ankles.

The boxers remained.

Black. Tight. Straining obscenely against the thick, heavy length trapped beneath.

She exhaled against the fabric... a long breathe of his cock’s scent—warm breath ghosting over the swollen head—and watched it twitch in response, pre-come blooming darker at the tip.

Then she leaned in again.

Nose first.

She pressed her face to the cotton-covered bulge and inhaled—deep, shameless, greedy. The scent hit her like ambrosia: musk, salt, raw masculine arousal, the faint trace of pre-cum that had soaked through the front.

Her eyes fluttered shut.

A low, satisfied moan vibrated in her throat as she breathed him in again—longer this time, dragging her nose along the full length of him through the cloth, from base to tip, memorizing the shape, the heat, the pulse.

"Gods..." she whispered, voice wrecked with reverence. "You smell like creation and ruin all at once."

Her tongue darted out—slow, deliberate—tracing the outline of him through the fabric. A long, wet stripe from root to crown, tasting the salt that had seeped through, feeling him throb against her lips even through the cotton.

At the same time, she was sucking his cock through the boxers, her warm.

Phei groaned.

She trailed from up, back to where the crown was.... she kissed the head—soft, open-mouthed—sucking gently until the fabric darkened further, until she could taste him clearly—salty, hot, divine.

Only then did she hook her fingers into the waistband.

She dragged the boxers down—agonizingly slow—revealing him inch by devastating inch.

The Dragon emerged like something mythic.

Thick. Veined. Flushed deep crimson. Twelve inches of rigid, pulsing heat—crown flared, slit already weeping pre-cum in a slow, glistening bead. It bobbed free, heavy and proud, veins standing out like cords under the skin, the entire length radiating that subtle, unnatural warmth she’d felt earlier—like holding a living flame.

Her breath caught—a soft, reverent gasp.

Then she dove.

Nose first again—pressing right against the base where cock met groin, inhaling deeply, greedily, filling her lungs with him, direct this time with nothing in-between, her nose on his cock’s skin. A hungry moan tore from her throat as she dragged her face upward—nose sliding along the underside, breathing him in like air she’d been denied for eons.

When she reached the head she licked—slow, broad, flat-tongued—lapping up the bead of pre-cum and chasing the taste like it was nectar from the gods. Satisfaction rolled through her in waves; anticipation made her thighs clench, made fresh slick leak down her own legs in shining trails.

She kissed the crown again—soft, almost worshipful—then parted her lips wider.

The massive, glistening head pressed forward, stretching her pretty mouth in slow, obscene detail.

Her lower lip dragged downward first, thin and glossy, forced to thin out around the thickest part of the flare. The upper lip followed, peeling back as the swollen ridge popped past her front teeth with a wet little sound.

Her cheeks hollowed instantly, hollows deepening as the sheer girth made her jaw ache and tremble on its hinges.

A thin string of spit immediately webbed from her lower lip to the underside of the crown, stretching taut before snapping and dripping onto her chin. Her tongue flattened instinctively beneath the heavy shaft, cradling it, but there was barely room—every millimeter of her warm, slick mouth was claimed by pulsing, vein-ridged flesh.

She whimpered around the intrusion, the sound of the goddess muffled and vibrating straight through his cock.

Her eyes watered at the corners, lashes fluttering, but she didn’t pull back.

Instead, she sank another half-inch deeper—lips stretched snow-white at the edges now, glossy and straining, the corners of her mouth pulled tight and red. The fat ridge scraped gently along the roof of her mouth while the slit kissed the back of her tongue, leaking one fat pearl of pre-cum that she swallowed greedily.

The texture was overwhelming—velvet over steel, pulsing with life, the slit weeping more pre-cum onto her tongue that she swallowed with a low, worshipful moan. She sucked gently—lips sealing tight around the him, cheeks hollowing, drawing out another thick bead that she savored like holy wine.

Her eyes lifted to his—dark, feral, shining with religious ecstasy.

She was worshipping.

And no woman had ever given him this.

No one had ever knelt like this beautifully—like a goddess before her equal, tongue moving with slow, deliberate reverence, exploring every inch like it was sacred ground. She wrapped her tongue around the underside—tracing the thick central vein from base to crown, feeling it pulse against her, then flicked the slit in teasing little strokes that made him groan and twitch in her mouth.

She sucked harder—lips stretching wide, jaw aching beautifully—taking more, inch by inch, until the head nudged the back of her throat and she gagged softly, eyes watering, but she didn’t pull back.

She pushed forward.

Deeper.

Her throat fluttered around him—wet, spasming squeezes—as she forced more inside, spit bubbling from the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin in thick strings.

She moaned around his length—the vibration ripping through him like lightning—and her hands wrapped around what she couldn’t swallow—fingers barely meeting around his girth, stroking slow and reverent while her tongue worked the head in endless, worshipful circles.

She pulled back—slow, torturous—lips dragging along the veined shaft, leaving it shining with her spit—then dove again, taking him deeper, gagging harder, tears spilling down her cheeks as she worshipped with everything she had.

No woman had ever done this.

No one had ever looked at him like he was divine while choking herself on his cock, eyes shining with tears of ecstasy, moaning like it was the greatest honor of her existence.

She worshipped him like he was creation itself.

Hands gentle in her hair—guiding, not forcing—watching her unravel herself in devotion, feeling her throat convulse around him, her tongue swirl, her moans vibrate through every inch of him.