The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort
Chapter 542 - 542: The Merchant and The New Firm (7) [18+]

"NNNNHHHHHHH…!!!" Her muffled scream shattered against his lips, her slick warmth clenching, pulsing, squeezing around him. A sweet, aching wave of pleasure crashed over her, drowning her senses in molten bliss. Her legs tightened, her fingers clawed at his shoulders, her silver-blue eyes fluttering, dazed and wild.

Mikhailis's breath came faster, his hips moving harder, each powerful thrust filling her, pushing her, and then—

His body tensed, a faint, shuddering groan slipping free. And then she felt it—thick, molten warmth surging inside her, hot, thick, flooding her. The heat filled her, overflowing, but her tight, trembling warmth squeezed around him, trapping it, holding it. Only a faint trickle spilled, a warm, slick line slipping down her thigh.

The sweet, overwhelming heat filled her, pulsed within her, her senses drowning in it. Her breath came in faint, trembling gasps, her body shivering, her heart racing.

"Mmmhh… slrp… mhh…" Their kiss never broke, their lips pressed tight, their tongues twisting, sliding, tasting. Her trembling moans mingled with his warm, shuddering breaths, the sweet, thick warmth still pulsing, filling her.

And then, as the sweet, aching bliss slowly ebbed, she pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips. "Ah… what a perfect… pleasure…"

Mikhailis's breath came faster, his warm, silver-blue eyes heavy with affection. "Rhea… you… you really are…"

But his words were drowned in another kiss, their lips crashing together again, their tongues twisting, tasting, the wet, desperate sounds of their kiss filling the cramped space.

"Mmmhh… slrp… mhh… slrp…!"

Her silver-blue eyes fluttered closed, her heart still racing, her slender fingers tangled in his silver-blond hair. She wanted more—no, she needed more. His warmth, his taste, his touch. She never wanted this to end.

But then—

"Rhea? Rhea, where are you?" Estella's voice, clear and sharp beyond the locker.

Rhea's pulse spiked, her silver-blue eyes snapping open. Panic crashed over her, mingling with the sweet, lingering heat.

Mikhailis's silver-blue eyes met hers, a faint, breathless smile tugging at his lips. "Well… that's our cue…"

They hurriedly adjusted their clothes, her trembling hands smoothing her skirt, his fingers fixing his vest. But her cheeks remained flushed, her silver-blue eyes shimmering with faint, lingering warmth.

Mikhailis's hand brushed against her cheek, his touch gentle, and for a brief moment, she leaned into it, her breath still fast, her heart still racing.

"Let's… let's go…" she whispered, her voice a faint, trembling breath.

He nodded, his silver-blue eyes warm, and together they slipped from the locker, slipping back into the bustling store.

But even as they stepped into the bright, perfumed air, her heart raced, a sweet, lingering heat still coiled low in her belly. And in the corner of her gaze, she saw Mikhailis's warm smile—his silver-blue eyes bright, a faint, teasing spark in his gaze.

"Rhea?" Estella's voice grew louder, her emerald-green eyes scanning the store. "Where have you two been?"

Rhea's breath caught, but she steadied herself, stepping forward with a calm, composed smile. "Apologies, My Lady. We were… ensuring the uniform's quality."

Estella's gaze narrowed slightly, but a faint, knowing smile tugged at her lips. "I see. Well, I hope it's perfect, because the rush has only just begun."

Rhea's heart finally began to slow, but her silver-blue eyes drifted to Mikhailis, and she caught the faint, playful smile still tugging at his lips. Her own lips twitched, a faint, secret smile hidden beneath her composed mask.

Estella's gaze swept over them, her emerald-green eyes sharp yet playful. "I need to make sure I'm watching you properly, you naughty prince," she whispered, leaning just close enough for Mikhailis to catch the warm, teasing scent of her perfume—rose with a hint of spiced vanilla. Her voice was light, but her gaze lingered a moment too long on Rhea's slight, faintly rounded belly and the subtle, undeniable tent in Mikhailis's trousers. A sigh slipped from her lips. "So… she ended up doing it first, huh?"

Rhea's cheeks flushed, but her expression remained calm, almost emotionless—her silver-blue eyes cool and composed. Mikhailis's grin turned a bit sheepish, a faint chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"Come here, Mikhailis," Estella said, grabbing his wrist and tugging him forward. Her grip was gentle but firm, her fingers cool against his warm skin. "Since you seem to be bursting with energy, you can help at the cashier. Sit there." She gestured to the elegantly carved, marble-topped counter, its surface etched with swirling silver vines and delicate floral designs. Ornate crystal lamps cast a warm, golden glow, and beneath the counter, a lattice of silver wood partially hid his lower half from view.

Mikhailis obediently slipped behind the counter, the soft, velvet-backed stool beneath him comfortable enough to make his posture relax. His fingers brushed the smooth, cool marble, and he let his gaze sweep over the growing crowd of noblewomen and merchants' wives streaming into the store—beautiful women of every shape and shade, their skin glowing with the warm, golden hues unique to Silvarion Thalor's people. Rich, dark complexions kissed with bronze, hints of silver or copper in the light, high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes that glittered beneath their elegantly styled hair—some in intricate braids, others flowing in soft waves, or held back with silver circlets.

Their beauty was unmistakable—elegance laced with the faint touch of elven heritage, each woman a masterpiece of her own. And they were all here, crowding into Lumine Étoile, their laughter and whispers mingling with the delicate chime of the silver bell above the door.

Mikhailis felt a thrill rush through him, his silver-blue eyes sparkling. His heart quickened. This… this was what he loved. The energy, the beauty, the wealth of life swirling around him.

Estella's voice cut through his thoughts. "Start counting, and make sure every coin is accounted for." Her voice was sharp, authoritative, but a faint smile played at her lips. "We have quite a rush ahead of us."

"Yes, ma'am," Mikhailis quipped, his fingers already moving, sorting bills, counting coins, his sharp eyes catching the faint shimmer of enchanted gold among the mundane currency. Each clink, each rustle of paper brought a faint, subtle thrill. His fingers moved with swift, practiced ease, and he found himself smiling.

But then, Estella moved to stand in front of him, leaning forward slightly to greet the customers, her emerald-green gown shimmering in the warm light. And as she leaned, her full, plush hips pressed gently against his waist—against the growing heat that had only barely begun to calm.

Mikhailis's breath caught, his fingers faltering for a second. She was so close, her long, dark green curls cascading over one shoulder, her slender, graceful neck just inches from his lips. And then—he felt it. Her soft, warm weight pressed against him, her body shifting, and through the thin, silk-like fabric of her gown, he felt the bare, smooth warmth of her skin.

He realized it instantly—she wasn't wearing anything beneath.

A thrill raced up his spine, and his silver-blue eyes widened. His fingers trembled, a faint smile twitching at his lips. But he forced himself to maintain a calm, composed expression, his gaze sweeping over the bustling store, a polite smile touching his lips.

Estella's hand slid down, brushing the hem of her emerald-green gown, and with a smooth, almost casual motion, she lifted it just enough. Just enough for his fingers to graze the warm, bare curve of her thigh. The silken, velvety fabric barely concealed the sweet, heated softness pressed against him. His pulse quickened, the thick, hot length between his legs swelling beneath his trousers.

"Ladies, welcome to Lumine Étoile. How may I assist you today?" Estella's voice was smooth as ever, warm and inviting, her smile radiant, even as her plush, bare hips shifted subtly, rubbing against him with slow, deliberate pressure.

Mikhailis's breath caught, his pulse pounding against his ribs. His fingers tightened on the stack of bills, but his free hand slipped lower, brushing along her inner thigh. The skin there was hot, impossibly soft, and a faint, damp warmth teased against his knuckles. He leaned slightly, just enough to press his thick, growing length against her bare, slick heat beneath the counter.

Estella's voice remained steady, her smile unbroken, but he saw the faint, almost imperceptible tremor in her lashes, the way her breath caught before she forced it smooth again. Her voice carried that same sweet, honeyed charm as she spoke to the customers crowding the front of the store.

"Yes, my lady, this fragrance is perfect for summer evenings. It has a delicate floral note with a hint of jasmine—timeless, elegant," she said, her tone even, but Mikhailis felt her slick warmth sliding against him, felt the faint, needy tremor in her thighs as she rocked gently, so subtly that no one but him could see.

His grin widened, a faint, mischievous spark in his eyes. He shifted slightly, his thick, burning heat pressing more firmly against her, sliding between her plush, warm folds. The thick, swollen head of his length brushed against her slick entrance, and he felt her shiver, her breath catching for an instant.

But her voice didn't falter. "Oh, the rose-gold shimmer? An excellent choice. It highlights the cheekbones beautifully," she continued, her fingers dancing over the elegant glass bottles on display. But beneath the counter, her hips moved subtly, pressing, rubbing, her slick heat smearing against the hot, pulsing tip of him.

"M-Mmhh… a-and for those who prefer a more subtle glow, our pearl blush is perfect," she stammered for a fraction of a second, and Mikhailis nearly laughed aloud. Even now, she was trying to maintain her perfect composure.

But can she keep it?

His free hand slid lower, fingers tracing the delicate curve of her inner thigh, his thumb pressing against the soft, slick warmth that practically throbbed with heat. He eased his hips forward, the thick, heated length slipping further, pressing, teasing against her entrance, not quite entering, but enough to make her thighs quiver.

Estella's fingers tightened on a crystal vial, her smile strained for a heartbeat before she forced it bright again. "A-and of course, our enchanted perfumes… they are… quite popular."

One of the noblewomen, a striking beauty with rich, dusky skin and silver-streaked hair, smiled. "Oh, my dear, you seem flustered. Are you quite alright?"

Estella's emerald-green eyes shimmered, but she laughed, the sound sweet, warm. "Just a bit warm, my lady. The rush of customers has the room feeling quite… heated."

Mikhailis's grin turned wolfish. He shifted his hips again, his thick, swollen length pressing deeper, her slick warmth spreading, the heat radiating against him. He watched the faint blush that painted her cheeks, the way her fingers trembled as she handed a delicate, glass perfume bottle to the customer.

His own breathing grew heavier, but he forced his voice to remain light, polite. "Would you like me to fetch a fan, Estella? You seem a bit… flustered."

Her emerald eyes shot him a sharp, warning glare, but she didn't dare say anything. Not with the noblewomen watching. "N-No need… Mikhailis. I'm perfectly fine."

Perfectly fine and perfectly soaked, he thought, the thrill racing up his spine. His fingers slipped higher, brushing the slick, heated wetness between her legs, feeling the soft, throbbing ache of her need. He teased her entrance, the thick, swollen head of his length nudging just enough to part her folds, a faint, wet heat coating him.

Estella's voice trembled, just for an instant. "Oh, yes, my lady… the sapphire powder… such a lovely choice."

But her hips rocked slightly, pressing back against him, her slick, trembling heat rubbing against the thick, pulsing length. Mikhailis felt the hot, aching pressure in his chest, the desperate need to bury himself inside her, to feel that slick, burning warmth clench around him.

But could she take it? Could she really keep her composure?

"Estella, you seem… tense," he whispered, his voice a low, teasing murmur just beneath the steady hum of conversation.

Her breath hitched, her lashes fluttering. "I… am perfectly… in control."