Chapter 69: Alaric Fondles Cassandra and Fiora’s Sexy Bodies

Alaric returned to the dining hall, his steps echoing through the vast, now-silent chamber. The remnants of their celebratory feast lay scattered across the table, a testament to the evening’s revelry. His gaze swept over the room, lingering on the sleeping form of his Aunt Cassandra. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall, shimmering in the soft glow of the dying embers in the hearth. She was a vision, even in her unconscious state, her beauty undeniable.

He approached her, his footsteps softening as he neared. Her head rested on her folded arms, her breaths deep and even. The gentle rise and fall of her chest drew his attention, and he found his gaze lingering on the swell of her breasts, barely contained by the low-cut neckline of her gown. A wave of desire washed over him, and he licked his lips, his heart pounding in his chest.

He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. She didn’t stir, her breaths remaining steady and deep. Emboldened, he slipped his arms beneath her, one supporting her back, the other sliding under her knees.

As he lifted her, Cassandra’s body pressed against his, her warmth seeping into him. He could feel the softness of her curves, the weight of her breasts against his chest. A shiver of anticipation ran through him as he carried her out of the dining hall, his steps careful and measured.

He navigated the diffusely lit corridors with ease, his mind focused on the prize in his arms.

The door to Cassandra’s master bedroom creaked open, revealing a lavish chamber bathed in the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the tall windows. The room was dominated by a massive four-poster bed, draped in luxurious silks and velvets. Alaric approached the bed, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation. He laid Cassandra down gently, her body sinking into the plush mattress.

He stepped back, his eyes roaming over her form. The moonlight cast shadows that accentuated her curves, her waist narrowing before flaring out to her hips. Her gown, already revealing, had shifted during the journey, the neckline dipping even lower to reveal more of her ample cleavage. Alaric’s breath hitched, his body responding to the sight.

He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her collarbone, the touch feather-light. Cassandra didn’t stir, her breaths remaining deep and even. Emboldened, Alaric let his hand drift lower, his fingers tracing the swell of her breasts. He could feel the softness of her skin, the weight of her breasts as they rose and fell with each breath. He lingered there, his thumb brushing against her, the touch sending a jolt of pleasure through him.

Alaric hesitated, his desire warring with his caution. He wanted more, so much more, but he was worried she might wake. He decided to push his luck a little further, his hands exploring her body with a restrained hunger. He traced the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, his touch lingering on the softness of her thighs. He could feel the heat of her body, the smoothness of her skin. It was intoxicating, and he found himself growing bolder with each passing moment.

His hands slipped beneath the hem of her gown, pushing the fabric up to reveal more of her legs. He trailed his fingers along her inner thighs, his touch light and teasing. Cassandra shifted slightly, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Alaric froze, his heart pounding in his chest. But she didn’t wake, her breaths remaining deep and even.

Relieved, Alaric continued his exploration, his hands roaming over her body with a growing confidence. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her through the thin fabric of her gown. He could feel her responding to his touch, her body arching slightly, her breaths growing shallower. It was a heady sensation, and Alaric found himself growing more and more aroused with each passing moment.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. Cassandra sighed, her lips parting slightly. Alaric deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth, exploring her with a growing hunger. He could taste the remnants of the wine they had shared, the sweetness of her lips. It was intoxicating, and he found himself losing control, his desire threatening to consume him.

His hands roamed over her body with a feverish intensity, his touch growing bolder, more insistent. He squeezed her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her, the touch sending a jolt of pleasure through him. He could feel her responding to his touch, her body arching against him, her breaths growing more and more ragged.

But even as his desire threatened to overwhelm him, a small voice of caution whispered in the back of his mind. He was playing a dangerous game, and he knew it. He was taking advantage of Cassandra in her vulnerable state, and if she woke, if she realized what he was doing… the consequences would be severe.

With a monumental effort, Alaric forced himself to pull back, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He looked down at Cassandra, her body laid out before him like a feast. He wanted her, wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone. But he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk her waking up and catching him in the act.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, his heart still pounding in his chest. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw, the touch gentle, almost reverent. He leaned down, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. Then, with a sigh of regret, he pulled away, his hands shaking slightly as he adjusted her gown, covering her once more.

Alaric stepped back, his eyes lingering on Cassandra’s form, the sight of her seared into his memory. He knew he had crossed a line, had taken advantage of her in a way that was unforgivable. But he also knew that he would cherish this moment, this memory, for the rest of his life.

With a final, lingering look, Alaric turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Soon, Alaric returned to the dining hall, his footsteps echoing softly in the vast, quiet room.

His gaze lingered on the sleeping form of his cousin Fiora, her long blonde hair cascading down her back like a golden waterfall. The sight of her, so vulnerable and peaceful, stirred something primal within him. He felt a surge of desire, a lustful hunger that gnawed at the edges of his restraint. Fiora had a curvaceous figure, which, although not as voluptuous as her mother Cassandra’s, was still a sight to behold.

With a predatory grace, Alaric approached Fiora, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet of the dining hall. He knelt beside her, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every curve, every contour.

Her breasts, full and firm, rose and fell with each gentle breath, her nipples pressing enticingly against the thin fabric of her dress. Her hips, rounded and inviting, begged for his touch, and her long, shapely legs seemed to stretch on for miles.

Alaric felt a growing tightness in his groin as he studied her, his cock hardening at the mere sight of her.

He had seen the way she looked at him, the longing in her eyes, the love that shone so brightly it was almost blinding. He knew that, even if she woke, she would not be angry with him.

In fact, he was certain she would welcome his touch, would revel in the pleasure he could bring her.

With his decision made, Alaric scooped Fiora into his arms, her body light and pliant against his chest.

She murmured softly in her sleep, snuggling closer to him, her breath warm against his neck. Alaric felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine as he carried her through the faintly lit corridors of House Galanis, making his way to her private bedroom.

The room was a reflection of Fiora herself—bright, vibrant, and filled with a sense of youthful energy.

The walls were adorned with paintings of flowers and landscapes, their colors bold and vivid.

The bed, a four-poster affair draped in silks and satins, dominated the space, its soft mattress promising a night of comfort and luxury.

Alaric laid Fiora down gently, her body sinking into the plush mattress with a soft sigh. He took a moment to admire her, his eyes lingering on the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the smooth expanse of her thighs.

His cock throbbed with need, but he held back, determined to take his time, to savor every moment of this illicit pleasure.

Starting with her feet, Alaric began to explore Fiora’s body, his touch light and teasing. He ran his fingers along the arch of her foot, chuckling softly as she twitched and murmured in her sleep. He traced the line of her calf, marveling at the smoothness of her skin, the firmness of her muscles. His hands moved higher, caressing her thighs, his thumbs brushing against the soft skin of her inner thighs.

Fiora shifted in her sleep, a soft moan escaping her lips as Alaric’s hands moved closer to her most intimate place. He could feel the heat radiating from her, could smell the faint, musky scent of her arousal. It was intoxicating, a heady perfume that drove him wild with desire. He wanted to bury his face between her legs, to taste her, to feel her writhe beneath him, but he held back, determined to draw out the pleasure, to make her climax with just his fingers.

Alaric’s hands moved to Fiora’s hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he gripped her tightly. He could feel the curve of her ass beneath his palms, the firm globes begging to be spanked, to be marked with his handprints. He indulged himself, raising his hand and bringing it down sharply on her flesh. The sound of the slap echoed through the room, the sharp crack of flesh against flesh sending a thrill of excitement coursing through his veins.

Fiora gasped, her eyes fluttering open for a brief moment before closing again, a soft smile playing on her lips. Alaric chuckled, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and relief. She was enjoying this, welcoming his touch, even in her sleep. It was all the encouragement he needed.

His hands moved to her breasts, cupping the soft mounds, his fingers teasing her nipples through the fabric of her dress. They hardened beneath his touch, the stiff peaks begging for more attention. Alaric obliged, rolling them between his fingers, pinching and tugging until Fiora was arching her back, her body writhing beneath him.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Alaric pulled down the neckline of Fiora’s dress, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze. They were perfect, full and firm, with rosy nipples that begged to be sucked. He leaned down, taking one stiff peak into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it as he sucked and nibbled. Fiora moaned, her hands moving to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair as she held him close, urging him on.

Alaric lavished attention on her breasts, his hands and mouth working in tandem to drive her wild with pleasure. He could feel her heart racing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she neared the edge of climax. But he wasn’t ready for her to come yet, wasn’t ready for this to end.

Reluctantly, Alaric pulled away from her breasts, his eyes moving down her body, lingering on the damp patch of fabric between her legs. He could see the outline of her pussy, could see the way her lips were swollen and glistening with her juices. It was a sight that made his mouth water, his cock throb with need.

With a groan, Alaric slid his hand between Fiora’s legs, his fingers brushing against her damp folds.

She was so wet, so ready for him. He could feel her heat, could feel the way her body trembled with need. He parted her lips, his fingers sliding through her slick folds, teasing her clit, circling her entrance.

Fiora moaned, her hips bucking against his hand, her body begging for more. Alaric smiled, his fingers sliding inside her, stretching her, filling her. She was tight, her walls clenching around him, gripping him like a vice.

He could only imagine how good she would feel around his cock, how her body would milk him, drawing out his pleasure.

But not yet.

Alaric began to move his fingers, thrusting them in and out of her, his thumb circling her clit. He could feel her body tensing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she neared the edge. He leaned down, his mouth hovering over hers, his breath mingling with hers.

“Come for me, Fiora,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “Let me feel you come.”

And she did. With a cry, Fiora’s body convulsed, her walls clamping down on his fingers as she came, her juices flooding his hand. Alaric groaned, his cock throbbing with need as he watched her come undone, her body writhing beneath him, her face flushed with pleasure.

As her orgasm subsided, Alaric withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, savoring the taste of her.

He looked down at her, her body limp and sated, her breath coming in soft, even breaths.

She was beautiful, so incredibly beautiful. And she was his, his to touch, his to pleasure, his to love.

With a sigh, Alaric pulled the covers up over Fiora, tucking her in gently before leaving her private bedroom and making his way towards the dungeon.

The prison dungeon was softly lit, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and the faint echo of distant moans.

Alaric made his way down the narrow stairs, his footsteps echoing ominously in the silence. The guards stationed at the entrance snapped to attention as he approached, their faces a mix of respect and fear.

“Open the cells,” Alaric ordered, his voice cold and commanding. The guards hurried to obey, their keys clanking against the heavy iron doors.

One by one, the cells were opened, revealing the huddled forms of Eskil’s comrades. They looked up at Alaric with a mix of defiance and fear, their eyes wide in the dim light.

Alaric stepped into the first cell, his gaze fixed on the prisoner huddled against the wall. “Who orchestrated the plan to attack House Galanis?” he asked, his voice like ice.

The prisoner hesitated, his eyes darting nervously before finally settling on Alaric. “It… it was Yvonne,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “She wanted to take revenge against your family. She convinced Eskil to help her.”

Alaric nodded, his expression unchanging. He moved to the next cell, repeating the question. Each time, the answer was the same. Yvonne was indeed the one to orchestrate the plan.

Satisfied with the information, Alaric turned to the guards. “Keep them secure,” he ordered.