Vol 8. Chapter 27: Take It In, Treasure It While It Lasts

Hearing the sound of running water from the bathroom, Leon sat tensely on the sofa.

After all, it had been a long time since he and Rosvisser had done anything with their dragon marks.

In recent years, the marks had already played a far greater role in their married life than they’d ever expected. Even a simple kiss could bring them immense bodily satisfaction.

Now Rosvisser had suggested imprinting a new dragon mark, and Leon suspected she’d been planning this all along—she was just waiting for the right opportunity.

And for a couple as competitive as they were, the final ranking of the joint assessment was exactly such an opportunity.

What made Leon nervous was that he had no way of predicting what would happen when all four dragon marks activated at once.

With three marks, both he and Rosvisser would lose all reason, melding into each other in reckless abandon.

So what about four marks...?

Even for a battle-hardened General Leon, he didn’t dare imagine it.

But that wasn’t even the most important part.

The bathroom door slowly pushed open.

The sound of water had already stopped. Rosvisser stepped out after drying herself, and slipped into...

The newest model of a bunny-girl outfit.

That was the second surprise tonight, on top of the dragon mark.

The queen carried her bathrobe loosely, but a glance at her calves already revealed glimpses of sheer black stockings and high heels.

She stepped toward Leon, her heels tapping softly against the floor, the black silk brushing against itself with a rustling sound as her legs moved.

Standing before Leon, Rosvisser placed her hand casually on the bathrobe’s sash.

“Enough talk, husband. Want to see?”

“No.”

“Good night.”

“Hey, wait—come on, don’t tease me like that!”

Rosvisser let out a nasal laugh, tilting her head slightly. Her silver hair fell down, still dotted with droplets she hadn’t wiped dry.

“Say it. Do you want to see?”

Even after years of marriage, when it came to this sort of shame-tinged banter, Leon’s face still burned red.

He averted his eyes, muttering low:

“...Yeah, I want to.”

“What do you want to see?”

“...I want to see a bunny girl.”

Rosvisser reached out and pinched Leon’s chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. At the same time, she lifted one long leg and planted her heel on the sofa.

At once, the bathrobe parted to reveal her stockinged leg, high heels glowing crimson in the warm orange light. The rounded heel inside the sheer silk looked especially seductive.

“Who do you want to see wearing a bunny-girl outfit?” Rosvisser pressed.

Saying that kind of thing while staring straight into her eyes only magnified Leon’s shame.

But Leon knew: if he didn’t say it, Rosvisser would have countless ways to tease and torment him.

It was the queen dragon’s honey-trap either way—better to surrender early and eat well.

“I... I want to see you wear it...”

It was hard, but he said it.

Rosvisser let out a triumphant giggle and slowly untied the robe’s sash.

Whoosh...

The robe slipped down her body and pooled at her heels.

Leon’s gaze climbed upward, starting from her shoes.

Her calves stretched long and graceful under black silk, her thighs plump and firm, pale skin peeking beneath sheer nylon, temptation itself.

And above that, the bunny suit—tight glossy latex. At that intimate place, this newest design featured a zipper.

Just like that dragon-tail pajama Little Meatbun had once bought—there was a zipper at the back of the waist.

This bunny suit’s zipper sat in exactly the right place. With one pull, the secret garden would be laid bare.

Her older bunny-girl outfits never had that zipper, so when they wanted to “join,” one of them always had to strip the suit off, or at least peel it halfway down.

Sure, once the lights dimmed and pleasure hit, clothing didn’t matter anymore.

But the bunny suit was Rosvisser’s way of indulging Leon, a costume she wore to make him happy. If its use ended before things truly began, wasn’t that a shame?

So she wore this new model—one that let her keep the outfit on while letting the lion slip securely into its rightful den.

The latex shimmered faintly, her chest straining against it, clearly customized; no off-the-rack suit could withstand Rosvisser’s proud curves.

As she moved, ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) the little bells tied at her waist chimed softly.

She bent down, grasped Leon’s wrist, and guided his hand to the choker at her neck. Then, smiling wickedly, she said:

“Later, you’d better keep these bells ringing until the sun rises tomorrow~”

It was a bell as sensitive as she was. Even the slightest movement of her body would make it sound.

So her meaning was clear enough.

As they spoke, the dragon mark on Rosvisser’s chest began to glow. She tilted her body and fell into Leon’s embrace.

Her silk-wrapped legs straddled him, settling onto his lap, her supple body pressing against his.

They could feel each other’s breaths, their warmth, even the pounding of their racing hearts.

The dragon marks flared like sparks catching into wildfire: the first lit, then the second, then the third.

Waves of sensation surged through them. Though it was only an embrace, Rosvisser couldn’t hold back a soft moan.

She clung tightly to Leon, hips rocking in small motions.

Even through layers of clothing, she felt the lion inside its cage, straining to break free.

“Leon...”

Her cheeks flushed, her eyes half-lidded, pupils shimmering as if two hearts beat inside them.

“Ross...”

Leon answered, pulling her slim waist fully into his arms.

Direct skin-to-skin contact struck them like lightning.

Rosvisser arched her chest, pressing his head against her, burying his face between her softness.

His breath spilled like a warm current down that sweet valley.

Rosvisser gasped, head tilted back, her entire body yearning to savor the moment.

This was their last chance to feel each other with their own wills before the dragon marks burned away all reason.

Soon they would abandon shame, abandon restraint, abandon any sense of morality.

They would drown in each other’s corruption, and not stop until their strength ran dry.

“Ross... the fourth dragon mark...”

“Mmm~~”

Rosvisser raised a finger to his lips, her gaze misty, voice drifting.

“Open the zipper first, Leon... I miss it... let it find me quickly...”

Leon’s eyes flickered. Holding her gaze, he reached and slowly pulled down the zipper.

At the same time, Rosvisser helped unfasten his belt, tugged down his clothes, and guided the iron-hard beast already aching for release. She eased it slowly into her body.

“Ahh...”

A moan like the sweetest dragon’s song.

From touch to entry, it was only a moment—but for Rosvisser, it was an indescribable sensation.

Drip—drip...

Juices spilled freely, pattering onto the floor.

She twisted her hips, drawing him deeper, her movements sinuous, like a many-headed, enchanting serpent.

“The fourth mark... Leon, why? This was my gift, but right now you seem even more desperate than me?”

Rosvisser cupped his face, their noses brushing, breaths mingling.

“Aren’t you curious too, Ross?”

“Curious about what?”

“Where the fourth mark will appear.”

At that, the queen laughed, then feigned coyness.

“Ah~ now that you mention it, I’ve forgotten where my other two marks are besides the one on my chest... As my husband, shouldn’t you help me remember?”

Guiding his hand, she slid it slowly down to her waist hollow.

Her long tail already tucked away, soft bare skin was exposed.

When Leon’s broad, warm palm pressed against it, a stream of heat spread outward from her waist through her whole body.

Her body trembled, her breath grew heavier, but she fought to remain clear-headed.

“Ohh... so there’s one here... Then where’s the third mark? My shoulder, maybe...”

His hand traced across her smooth shoulder, her delicate collarbone rising and falling with each breath.

“Not your shoulder... then... your lower belly?”

His palm glided down toward her abdomen, closer to where they joined. Rosvisser grew more sensitive.

That touch made her close her eyes at once.

She gripped his arm tight, pressing his hand to her stomach. Her mouth opened, strings of saliva stretching from her lips, yet she forced words through her ragged breath:

“Looks like it’s not my belly... Husband... where’s the third one? If you remember... move a little—ahh!!”

With three dragon marks active, even the simplest thrust sent unbearable pleasure through her.

Drip drip drip drip...

A flood burst, soaking the carpet and the edge of the sofa.

Leon caressed her hand, then held her face gently, gazing deep into her eyes.

“I found your third dragon mark, Ros... It’s hot there, wet, soft... just like you. Perfect.”

Rosvisser twisted her waist, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

She nipped him, planting a vivid hickey on his neck, right beside the smear of her lipstick.

“Come... husband, the fourth one... ready?”

Locked in each other’s arms, Leon whispered:

“Come on, Ross. I’m ready.”

As his words fell, violet light slowly ignited around them.

And their last shred of reason drowned in that glow.

The sound of bells rang and rang, and did not stop until the sun rose on the third day.