NTR: Stealing wives in Another World
Chapter 94: Noble women (18+)

Chapter 94: Noble women (18+)

Kael dropped to his knees beside Elira like a man possessed.

She didn’t resist.

Couldn’t.

Her thighs parted automatically, more instinct than choice. Her cunt was red and ruined, twitching with aftershocks, still full of slick from Nyra’s vegetable assault. Her whole body reeked of shame and cum and sweat—but Kael didn’t hesitate.

He wanted this.

He needed this.

He grabbed her hips with shaking hands and pushed inside in one brutal thrust, burying himself in the mess she’d become.

Elira screamed again.

But it wasn’t pain.

Not this time.

She gasped—sharp, high—and her hands clawed the floor as Kael fucked her the same way he had during the festival. The same position. The same pace. But this wasn’t the same woman. This was a broken mirror version, cracked and fogged with humiliation.

"F-Fuck," Kael hissed, pounding into her like a man trying to erase the other scents from her body. "You feel even better now..."

Elira sobbed beneath him, her hands slipping on the wet floor.

Her voice was hoarse. "N-No... not again... please..."

But her pussy gripped him tight.

Still greedy.

Still broken.

Still his.

And Kael fucked her deeper—harder—with every wet slap echoing through the chamber like a curse. Nyra watched from the side, licking her fingers lazily, her own thighs clenched as she watched Elira get used again.

Allen turned away.

Bored.

Satisfied.

Unbothered.

Lady Rhelgar sat at the far end of the chamber, kneeling in perfect silence, body covered in the black-ink shame Elira had written across her like a living scroll. Her tits bore phrases like "Noble Cocksleeve" and "Cum Royalty," while her stomach read "Property of Master Allen’s Seed." Her thighs were streaked with filth and labels like "Breed Me Here" and "Only Worth Milking."

She didn’t protest.

Couldn’t.

The shimmering kiss mark still glowed faintly on her neck—Allen’s magical brand from the Enchanting Tongue skill. Its power hadn’t faded. Her brain was still floating in submission, pliant and eager and so ready to obey.

Allen approached her slowly.

She lifted her head, eyes glassy.

He crouched.

Slid two fingers beneath her chin.

"Open," he said softly.

And she did—mouth wide, tongue out, waiting like a trained pet.

He slid his fingers in first, curling them inside her mouth, feeling the heat and the need as she suckled them automatically.

Then he leaned in.

And kissed her.

Deep.

Claiming.

The kind of kiss that made her whole body arch with need.

She whimpered into it, the kiss mark pulsing on her neck like it liked the attention. Allen’s other hand dipped between her legs, sliding across swollen folds slick with anticipation.

Her pussy clenched at the touch.

She was already wet.

Soaked.

Desperate.

He circled her clit with slow, teasing strokes, watching her squirm, her nipples tightening as her hips bucked into his hand like a bitch in heat.

"You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?" he murmured against her lips. "For me. Not your husband. Me."

She nodded, eyes wide, tongue still out as he kissed her again.

"Say it."

"I... I want you," she whispered, voice breaking with lust. "I want to be yours. I want your fingers, your cock, your command—I want everything."

Allen smiled.

"You already are."

And he shoved two fingers inside her.

Hard.

She moaned, high and choked, her hips jerking as her cunt clenched around him. He fingered her with deliberate control—rubbing her clit with his thumb while his enchanted fingers fucked her like they knew her most humiliating weaknesses.

Because they did.

She was still under his spell.

Still his puppet.

Still a noble reduced to a dripping, branded plaything.

Behind them, Kael let out a guttural moan as he came deep inside Elira’s ruined hole, collapsing over her like a spent animal. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her eyes stared blankly ahead as cum dripped from her abused cunt.

Allen didn’t even glance back.

He had Rhelgar now.

And she was far from done.

Allen’s fingers moved with slow, cruel precision.

Each thrust inside Lady Rhelgar’s soaked pussy was deliberate—probing, curling, dragging along her most sensitive spots until her thighs trembled and her painted skin glistened with sweat. The ink on her body smudged with every twitch, the words across her hips blurring like her thoughts.

Her mouth was still open, panting, drooling.

Eyes unfocused.

Mind shattered.

But her pussy? Oh, it knew exactly what it wanted.

It clenched desperately around his fingers, pulling them in deeper, like her body didn’t care about shame or vows or status. Like it had waited for this. Craved this.

"Loyal, aren’t you?" Allen muttered, voice low in her ear. "Still holding out for your husband. Still thinking this is cheating."

He pulled his fingers out with a wet squelch.

She whimpered.

He grabbed her by the back of her ink-streaked neck, pushing her down, slow and steady, until her cheek was flat against the cold stone floor. Her ass lifted naturally, presenting itself in the most humiliating pose imaginable—one she never would’ve allowed herself to be in just days ago.

But now?

Now she arched her back.

Now she spread her legs wider.

Now she begged.

"P-Please... please, Master..."

Allen crouched behind her, eyes tracing every sinful message Elira had written across the noble woman’s skin— "Breedmeat", "Masters Broodmare"—and his cock throbbed with hunger.

He lined himself up with her glistening cunt.

"Your husband ever touch you like this?" he asked.

She sobbed.

"No."

"Ever fuck you on the floor? Make you beg? Call you a whore?"

"N-Never..."

Allen chuckled darkly.

"Then let me show you what you’ve been missing."

And he thrust in.

Hard.

Deep.

Ruthless.

Lady Rhelgar screamed—a broken, desperate cry of betrayal and orgasm all tangled together. Her pussy gripped him like it had been waiting its whole life to be taken like this. Her ink-covered ass bounced with every brutal pump, her body slamming into his like it was made to be used.

"You feel that?" Allen snarled, pounding into her. "That’s your cunt forgetting your husband’s name."

Her answer was a gurgled moan, saliva dripping from her mouth as he fucked her harder—his hips slapping against her ink-stained skin, smearing the shame deeper into her noble flesh.

Each thrust was a declaration.

This was his now.

Not Harven’s.

Not the court’s.

Not the past’s.

Just his.

Her clit throbbed under his thumb as he reached around, grinding it in tight circles until her legs buckled and her voice cracked with pleasure.

"I’m not stopping," Allen growled. "Not until your pussy admits it loves this."

"I-It does!" she gasped. "It does, Master! I’m yours—my pussy’s yours! It’s never been this full!"

Allen laughed, savage and victorious.

And then he ravaged her.

No mercy. No slowing down. Just pure, primal fucking that echoed through the chamber, drowning out even the sounds of Kael’s heavy breathing and Elira’s exhausted sobs.

Lady Rhelgar came.

Hard.

Squirting across the floor, her whole body seizing around Allen’s cock as her moan turned into a strangled scream.

He didn’t stop.

He didn’t even slow.

He kept slamming into her—chasing his own climax—forcing her to ride every brutal inch like a noble mare broken in public.

And when he came?

He came deep.

Flooding her.

Breeding her.

Owning her.

He collapsed over her trembling form, breath hot on her shoulder, his cock still twitching inside her stretched, soaking cunt.

"You were meant for this," he whispered into her ear.

And she sobbed.

Nodded.

Smiled.