๐โจ You, piping up in a wavery tenor: please, sir, can I have some more my kingdom for a (sort of) troll?
Me, ever so charitable and benevolent: okay, but just this once.
(SIKE, there's like ~18 more chapters of this damn thing.)
If you haven't tuned in yet, here's what you're missing:
Rudderless royal, Rose, has her work cut out for her when her bumbling father offers refuge to Jules, a malodorous mischief-maker raised by trolls. Thanks to him, her Court will never be the same.
A story of self-discovery, challenging conformities, and rude sexual awakenings. Literally.
This Rose and Jules conversation will be continued in Chapter 34, which should be available this weekend. Enjoy the tenderness now... it shan't last. ๐
Act Two will wrap up on Chapter 36. I can't believe we've come this far(t)!
Preview below!
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His moan reached her bones. He massaged and tended to his swollen globe with sure, soothing hands, eyes closed not in serenity, but focus, as he navigated this painful and persistent fullness. She could not tear away, even as her pulse threatened to resume its stiff beat and add another shiny blot to the crotch of her undergarments. The allure was insurmountable.ย
He languidly opened his eyes and sighed through his nose. "I do not understand it, either. Last time, at the banquet... I know I was โย musical,ย and of course there were... the eyebrows."
"Hmm," she humored him.
"Frankly, I could've fertilized four fields the following day. You may recall from Celeste's quarters." The smirk never quite mounted his mouth, much as she wanted it to. She especially wanted it paired with the massaging motions of his hands on his belly. "But it was nothing like this. This isโ" She saw some internal sensation darken his face. "Best not to speculate, perhaps."
He stopped rubbing. The gentle hold on his gut became a splayed iron clutch. He leaned forward, grasping the chair by his littered table, and stuttered out a grunt, each fragment of sound from his mouth twinned with a similar burst from behind. Rose anticipated the seat of his pants to sag with a freshly steaming load, but something else yielded.
His grunt gravelled into a husky groan as he broke bassy wind, eyes squinched shut with the thick, laborious delivery, while his rus pants mimicked the balcony curtains only moments before. There was no relief here and absolutely none of his mischief. He appeared apprehensive about the smell hitting her. It did not take long to spread. It never did.
