Forbidden Desires: Conquering Kingdoms And Women In a Fantasy World!-Chapter 26: Rosaluna’s First Treatment [R-18 Contents!]

After dinner, Mom claimed she had a headache and excused herself almost immediately, retreating into her room with a forced calmness that didn’t fool me. The way she pressed her fingers to her temples and avoided my gaze—yeah, that wasn’t just physical pain.

Guilt was gnawing at her. I could see it written across her face, behind her tired eyes. Her dreams—no, her desires—were becoming too much for her to bury anymore. And they were about me. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

It was almost admirable, in a twisted way, how she’d kept herself together all these years. Always composed, always restrained, even when life kept pushing her closer to the edge of some emotional cliff she never let herself fall from.

I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling, arms folded comfortably behind my head. A faint smile played across my lips.

Still... I couldn’t help but wish she would finally let go. See things from a different perspective. Understand that I wasn’t just her son—I could give her something no one else ever had: real happiness. Not the fake kind that came with responsibilities or sacrifices.

Anyway, she’d had a nightmare yesterday. That meant she wouldn’t get one tonight—because I had already taken care of it. I had treated her, soothed the tension coiled within her, and gave her some peace.

It had been a long day regardless, and I was starting to feel the weight of it pressing down on me. My eyes fluttered for a moment, tiredness creeping in.

Still, one thought kept poking at the back of my mind.

Arlos.

I regretted letting him live.

I really, really should have killed him.

I was still turning that over in my head, considering whether the damage was already done or if I could fix it later, when I suddenly heard my door creak open—quietly, almost cautiously.

A sliver of hallway light spilled into my room.

"Harold... are you sleeping?"

I raised my head slightly, surprised to hear her voice.

"Sister?"

She peeked in, then stepped inside and gently closed the door behind her.

"I just... I couldn’t sleep," she said softly, not quite meeting my eyes.

"Well, I can’t either, big sister," I lied smoothly.

I was curious—very curious—about why she was here, especially this late. Was she going to apologize for walking out earlier when I talked about Lisa? That would make sense. She cared about me too much to let something like that hang in the air between us.

"Oh," she murmured, nodding as she looked around the room like she was searching for something to comment on.

The space wasn’t anything special, at least not yet.

Though, I was planning to add a bookshelf in the corner. Something simple but elegant. I’d ask Oren, the carpenter in town, to handle it. The man was a genius with wood—quiet, dependable, and his work had a warmth to it you couldn’t buy at any shop.

My gaze flicked back to Rosaluna. She was quiet.

"Something wrong?" I asked, noticing the tension still lingering in her shoulders.

She hesitated before sitting down on the edge of my bed, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

"Do you love Lisa, Harold?" She asked suddenly, catching me completely off guard.

I blinked. "Yeah," I replied, choosing to be honest.

Rosaluna’s eyes flicked up toward mine, a shadow of worry behind them.

"W–What about me?" She asked, worried. "I’m your big sister... don’t you love me too?"

I couldn’t help but laugh softly. "Of course I love you, big sister. What kind of question is that?"

"But you said you love Lisa too..." She trailed off, her voice uncertain and small.

Ah. Now I understood.

She was scared. Scared that maybe Lisa had taken a place in my heart that used to belong only to her. That the connection we once shared—the intimacy of growing up together, of knowing each other better than anyone else—was no longer as special.

I sat up and moved beside her, letting out a quiet sigh.

"Yeah, I love Lisa. But you... you’re my big sister. That makes you more special, like Mom is. You’re part of me. We’re family."

Something in Rosaluna’s expression lit up—something warm and glowing. The word special seemed to resonate deeply with her.

"R–Right," she said, smiling a little. But then that glow dimmed again, and her eyes dropped to her lap.

"There’s something else, isn’t there?" I asked gently.

She hesitated, then nodded. "Un, yes... you said before that pleasure can help people forget pain..."

A strange feeling coiled in my stomach. I narrowed my eyes slightly, watching her closely.

"Yeah... I did say that," I said slowly.

"Actually... I’ve been having nightmares too, Harold," she admitted, her words tumbling out quickly. "Can you... help me sleep?"

I stared at her for a moment, unsure what to say. I hadn’t expected that.

"Nightmares?" I echoed.

She nodded, her face pinched with discomfort, eyes downcast. She wasn’t faking it—her pain was real.

It made me pause. How had I not noticed before? Maybe in recent years, I’d stopped paying as much attention, stopped sleeping near her like we used to.

Or maybe her nightmares were just quieter than Isabella’s. Not as violent, not as loud. Easier to miss.

I didn’t know what to say. The silence between us stretched long. Rosaluna sat close, her knees pulled to her chest beneath the hem of her soft white nightgown.

She leaned in closer. "Please, Hal... help me sleep. Like you did with Mom..."

My mind ran blank for a heartbeat, then snapped back into grim clarity.

She knew. She knew what I’d done for Mom, how I’d helped her drown those nightmares, not with words, not with medicine—but with something primal and quiet and forbidden. My mouth on her, my tongue gentle, coaxing pleasure until her fears dissolved into moans and shallow breaths and then finally, soft sleep.

And Rosaluna—my sister—was asking me to do the same.

"Rosaluna..." I murmured.

Her white brows creased softly, the corners of her lips dipping just slightly. "You won’t?" She asked, so openly hurt, confused. "You said we’re family and..."

I swallowed, scratching the back of my neck. "O—Okay... relax, sister," I said gently, more to calm myself than her.

Her expression didn’t change. Just hopeful. Trusting.

"Then?"

"Fine," I sighed. "I’ll help you sleep."

Her smile bloomed slow and delicate, sweet and full of something more than gratitude. "Thank you, Hal..."

I looked toward the door, making damn sure it was shut. Locked. If Mom walked in now... no, I couldn’t let that happen. Not now.

Rosaluna shifted on the bed, sitting up straighter as I turned back toward her.

"T—Then what... how does it happen?" She asked, her fingers nervously twisting in the hem of her gown. Her thighs pressed together shyly, the arch of her foot flexing with restless energy.

I knelt at the edge of the bed and took a slow breath. "Just... lay back, Rosaluna. Let me guide you."

She gave a small nod, biting her bottom lip as she crawled back across the bedspread. Her legs stretched out in front of her, the hem of her nightgown spilling just above her ankles.

I sat down at her feet, drawing her closer. My hands found her ankles, thumbs tracing small circles over the delicate skin there. Warm, soft, and already trembling beneath my touch.

She gasped quietly. "I—It feels strange..."

Of course it did. No one had touched her like this before.

"Just stay calm," I said, guiding her legs apart slightly. "It’s alright, big sister."

She nodded again, her white hair fanning around her shoulders. The glow of the bedside lamp caught the soft sheen of her skin, the pale curve of her calves rising beneath the silk of her gown. I pushed the fabric up slowly, letting it bunch at her knees.

Gods... her legs. Long and pale like ivory washed in moonlight, the skin smooth and unblemished. I leaned in and kissed the top of her foot, then up—slow, kisses climbing from ankle to calf. Her breath stuck as I reached her knee.

"H—Hal?" She whispered.

I didn’t answer. My lips brushed the inside of her thigh now, and her skin twitched under my mouth.

"Hnn... it tickles..." She said, voice breathy, almost startled by the sensation.

"I know," I murmured, my hands sliding up higher, lifting the gown inch by inch until it gathered around her hips.

And then I saw it.

Between her thighs—her untouched pussy. Pristine. A soft pink slit nestled in a delicate fold of skin, hairless, closed tight. My chest ached with how impossibly innocent it looked. Like a flower never bloomed, trembling just from being seen.

"D—Don’t look," she whispered, eyes turning away as her hands tried to pull her gown back down.

I stopped her gently, catching her wrists. "Rosaluna... how am I supposed to help you feel good if I can’t even look at it?"

She faltered, her fingers stilling in my grip.

"I—It’s just... it feels embarrassing..." She said quietly, her voice tinged with confusion. She didn’t even know why she felt that way. Just that something about being bare before me awakened things she hadn’t touched in herself before. The bloom of womanhood and the flush of forbidden intimacy mixing into one heavy breath.

I leaned down again, placing a soft kiss on her inner thigh. Her hips twitched.

I dragged my fingers lightly over her skin, closer, closer—until the tips ghosted over the crease at the base of her slit. She gasped, her legs clamping slightly together in reflex.

"Relax," I said again, letting her settle before easing her legs open once more. My thumbs brushed her lips, parting them slightly to reveal the shy glint of wetness inside.

Her breath shuddered.

I leaned in and pressed a kiss just above her clit, slow, soft, feeling her twitch beneath me. Then I dragged my tongue down through her slit, tasting her for the first time—sweet and trembling, like nectar on the edge of bloom.

"Nnnh—Haaal...!"

There it was. That sound. Her voice breaking free for the first time, uncertain but alive, rising from the pit of her belly.

I licked her again, slower this time, tongue flattening against her as I made long strokes, savoring how her hips began to rise ever so slightly, chasing me. Her fingers gripped the sheets beside her, eyes fluttering open, then squeezing shut again as the feeling washed over her.

"Aaah... it... it feels so weird..."

"It’s supposed to," I murmured, lips brushing against her clit now. I circled it with the tip of my tongue, featherlight, then sucked it into my mouth.

"Haah—aaah~!"

Her back arched slightly, her thighs trying to close around my head before I held them open again, kissing and sucking gently, rhythmically, building her up slowly, tenderly, the same way I had done with Mom. But this time, it felt different. More fragile. More dangerous. And more beautiful.

She whimpered, her breath coming faster, chest rising and falling with each pulse of heat I coaxed from her.

"H-Hal... I... something’s happening... I think—!"

"It’s okay," I murmured, sliding a finger against her slick entrance now, teasing it without pushing in. "Let it happen."

She moaned, hips bucking against my mouth now, no longer resisting but helplessly seeking more. And I gave it to her—licking deeper, tasting her until her thighs shook and her hands shot to my hair, gripping me as if she was falling.

"Ahh! Aaahn—Haaaahh!"

Her climax hit her like a wave rolling in over a trembling shore, sudden and full, her body tightening and then dissolving as she let go. Her breath spilled out in soft, breathless cries, her chest heaving as her body surrendered to the moment.

And I stayed there, holding her with my mouth, slowing only when the shaking eased.

She lay back, eyes glazed, lips parted.

I pulled away slowly, resting my head against her thigh, watching her come back to herself in silence.

"How did it feel, big sister?" I asked her. My chin still glistened faintly with the taste of her. I’d been the first. The first to touch her, kiss her there, taste the velvet folds of her pink cave. The first man to make her come apart.

She turned her face slightly, eyes hazy, and drew a long, shaking breath. "G... Good..." She whispered, the word spilling out as if her throat had forgotten how to speak.

Her cheeks were flushed pink, and the soft glow of the moon outside showing the sweat on her forehead, the heave of her chest beneath the thin gown.

I smiled, dragging a finger gently along the inner line of her thigh. Her skin twitched beneath my touch.

"This..." I murmured, leaning in to press my mouth against her again, tasting the sweet wetness that still clung to her folds, "this is pleasure."

"Aaaahn—!" She gasped, her hips jolting slightly, thighs flinching again.

The sensitivity there was exquisite. Her body was still wound tight in the aftermath, her nerves raw and open, and just a single touch sent shivers racing up her spine. I licked her again, slowly, one long drag of my tongue that made her squirm in place.

"Ah... Haaahh..."

I chuckled low in my throat, pulling back and letting her catch her breath. I leaned up beside her and brushed some hair from her damp forehead.

"We have to keep it secret from Mom," I said softly, close to her ear.

She nodded faintly. "Un..." Came the sound, almost inaudible, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, still wide and dazed.

Of course she was overwhelmed. That had been her first orgasm. The first time someone else had drawn that out of her body. Her breath was still shallow, uncertain. Her hands trembled slightly as she touched the fabric of her gown. She wasn’t sure what to feel yet—pleasure, yes, but also confusion, maybe a hint of shame. But all of that would settle in time. Right now, what lingered most was the deep, powerful sense of something unlocked inside her. Something irreversible.

I reached down and gently tugged the hem of her gown back over her hips, covering her again, tucking the moment away like a secret.

She blinked as I moved over her, my face close now, lips just hovering above hers.

Then I kissed her.

Soft. Tender. Her lips parted with the smallest sigh.

"Hmn~" she let out, breath catching in her throat, lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Her lips moved against mine, uncertain at first, but warm. The taste of her mouth was sweet with sleep and the faintest echo of what I’d given her.

I pulled back slowly, brushing her cheek with my knuckles. "Good night, big sister," I whispered.

Her lips curled in a slow, dreamy smile. "G... Good night..."

I watched her for a moment longer—hair spread like silk across the pillow, cheeks glowing softly in the dim light, lips still faintly parted.

Then I smirked and lay beside her, folding one arm under my head, before licking my lips.