Salvation of the Fallen - Chapter 29
Tarta gripped his throbbing m*mber and slowly rubbed its tip against Arsena’s lips. Like a young beast seeking milk, Arsena’s head swayed back and forth at that dizzying scent.
Arsena, with hazy, w*t eyes, craving his. As if even the briefly touched spot wasn’t enough, she extended her small, soft tongue to thoroughly lick his traces. He wanted to bury himself in that throat right away and pour out his thick s*men, more than she could even swallow. With that, a tingling sensation spread to the base of his t*sticles.
“If you don’t say it, I won’t know. Arsena. Come on, say it.”
“In, hnng, please c*m in my mouth.”
For a moment, he found it absurd that he thought Arsena was cute, opening her mouth wide like a b*by bird waiting for food, begging for his c*ck. Yet, Tarta’s jaw clenched at the sight of her writhing lewdly, unable to contain her excitement.
“Is it that delicious? My c**k juice?”
Tarta stretched the corners of his mouth in satisfaction. His spine tingled at the disheveled female form, nodding her head without even regaining her senses.
“Ha… f*ck. Such a lewd thing.”
He couldn’t hold back any longer. Thwack. Gripping her hair, he thrust in at once, and Arsena choked, struggling to breathe. His whole body tingled at her greatly undulating throat. Yet, far from spitting it out, the sight of Arsena taking him in even deeper brought him to the brink of cl*max.
“Ahurk.”
Tarta once again grabbed Arsena’s hair and pulled her towards him. As if to block her airway with that small, soft mouth, Tarta thrust himself deeper and deeper.
“Haah…”
The tightly constricted throat gripped the gl*ns as if to bite it off, roughly squeezing. As if demanding him to release his essence quickly.
“Huah…”
As the dark red member thrust deep into her throat throbbed, Tarta’s body shook greatly. Arsena tightened her lips, not wanting to miss even a drop of the thick l*quid that poured out endlessly. With each swallow of the hot liquid, a distant fragrance spread throughout her body as if drinking strong liquor. A tingling sensation that resonated from her esophagus to the very center of her stomach swept through her entire body.
Even after the long and intense ej*culation that made her shiver, Arsena, as if still unsatisfied, thoroughly licked from the thick, pulsing sh*ft to Tarta’s wrinkled t*******s. The sweet and seductive scent became more insufficient the more she tasted it.
More. Just a little more.
Arsena couldn’t be satisfied. The insatiable greed constantly craved for something bigger. The heat that filled her stomach, tangled messily like snakes, grew larger with each passing day.
You’re quite greedy.
Tarta lazily ran his fingers through Arsena’s black hair. Her eyes were hazily unfocused as she knelt, gripping his s***t with her small, delicate hands and licking his flesh. As if throwing a tantrum, Arsena rubbed her cheek against the throbbing flesh pillar and licked it to the base with her tongue. Her small, soft tongue dug deep between the folds.
“Hnng.”
As if savoring the long-drawn breath, she held it in her mouth and then exhaled, taking his t*******s into her mouth again and rolling her tongue. While the wrinkled flesh was repeatedly sucked into and released from the narrow woman’s mouth, Arsena’s small white fingertips stroked his c**k again.
Tarta licked his lips as he watched Arsena burrow between his legs like a baby bird seeking warmth. The time for harvest was finally approaching.
Tarta gently pushed away Arsena, who had been tightening her throat with the dark red glans stuffed into her small mouth to the point of bursting. Arsena’s face, drenched in saliva, turned towards Tarta.
A suffocating silence fell. After a long while, Tarta’s thick hand slowly caressed Arsena’s chin. Even at that light touch, Arsena’s head lifted like a feather. Her gaze, vulgar and disheveled, turned towards Tarta.
Yes. Those eyes. Those pitiful and miserable blue eyes.
Those moist eyes incited the hidden desires and anxieties within him. How many had she corrupted with those eyes? Even knowing this, Tarta couldn’t look away.
But the game was over. Now, he had to fulfill the long-postponed task. He couldn’t allow the same mistake as before.
“Arsena.”
At the low, murmuring voice, Arsena’s gaze trembled anxiously. That day had finally come. Arsena, who had lived a lifetime in misery, sensed it.
The past was repeating itself, where even after draining the blood of her own kind, a blade was finally pressed against her neck as she struggled to live in hiding. Despite trying to ignore the memories that gnawed at her soul, that day had finally arrived.
Quickly scanning the cold stone walls, there was nowhere to escape. No, she didn’t want to escape.
It was because she was already addicted to the sweetness she couldn’t give up, even when terrified. Tarta was the only pleasure she had ever tasted.
Arsena swallowed the abundant liquid in her mouth, fearing it might be taken away, and crawled on her knees across the cold stone floor to curl up at Tarta’s feet. As if worshipping a god.
“I, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
“Forgiveness? Arsena. You know. I don’t need to do that.”
Though he was stroking Arsena’s chin as if soothing a pet dog, Tarta’s twisted lips were as sharp as a blade. Arsena begged even more desperately.
“I didn’t do anything. Really. I…”
She couldn’t do anything. Because she had no power. Her own kind had mocked her for being born so lacking. Even dreaming. A Saira, abandoned alone in the vast fields. Thanks to that, she lived a long life, but it was a life more miserable than death. Both then and now.
“Those around you became unhappy. You know that too. That you’re a seed of misfortune.”
Tarta showed no mercy even as Arsena confessed her incompetence and wept miserably. Arsena bit her lip at the words that poked at her oldest wound.
“I didn’t want to do that either. I wanted to run away too… I begged countless times to save me. To free me from this misfortune. I didn’t want to hear any voices. No one heard my voice!”
Arsena’s voice, which had been low and pleading, gradually became more agitated, and her blue eyes flashed with madness.
“Until I killed God’s servant and destroyed a family. Even when everyone became unhappy, God didn’t answer my prayers! Not even once… not once. As if my misfortune was amusing! As if it was entertaining to watch them go mad. It wasn’t my fault. It’s the fault of the God who made me like this! It’s all God’s will, they say. God created me. I was born this way. I was born like this from the beginning. I was used. I didn’t want to do it either. Really. I wish I had died by your hand then. Do you know what I went through? Do you know what the Blades of God did to me when they took me away? I was locked in a small room and tortured. For countless hours! Even when I begged to be killed, no one listened. It’s not my fault I was born this way. And then they… and then again they… planted me back in the world! It’s not my fault. I… I was just used. I didn’t want this! I begged so much! It wasn’t my fault!”
As Arsena poured out her grievances in a voice cracking into pieces, then collapsed and wailed, Tarta’s blade loomed over her head. Such a fragile female form. Arsena’s figure curled up and sobbing, was like a newly born, delicate beast. It was too weak a form for someone who had corrupted countless humans over dozens or hundreds of years.
“Please, please please…. Save me. So I won’t be used anymore. Save me from this cursed fate. Tarta. Please…”
