From Goblin Slave To Giga-Daddy: A Goblin's Guide to Getting a Harem-Chapter 16: The Thigh Worshipper!

Big mistake.

The divine nectar from earlier, which had been pooling like a guilty secret, chose that exact moment to make its grand exit. It rolled down her thighs and past her knees like a warm, slippery reminder of her sins.

"I—I'm fine!"

"Nonsense," Emily tutted. "Don't stand up, dear. Sit, sit, sit."

Before Alice could protest, Emily pushed her gently—yet firmly—back down into the chair like a queen placing a pawn where it belonged.

"Ah, it must be something to do with the delivery, dear. Your body's still adjusting."

Emily said with a breezy wave of her hand.

"I've heard it happens from time to time. Not to me, of course. Your mother in law is stronger than that, ha ha ha!"

She laughed at her own joke like she was on stage at the palace comedy night, completely unaware that Alice's heart was throwing a mosh pit in her chest.

Alice forced a tight, polite chuckle, the kind you make when a noble farts in public and no one's allowed to acknowledge it.

But inwardly, she was dying.

If Emily so much as leaned around the side of the table, she'd see Raedon crouched underneath it like a naughty little gremlin.

Thank the gods for the thick tablecloth, which draped all the way to the floor like a divine intervention.

"M-maybe that's the reason, Emily—eeek!"

Alice twitched, her legs clamping together as something warm and wet slid down across the back of her knee.

'Wh-what the...? Was that—was that his tongue?'

Her entire face flushed crimson. Her eyes darted to Emily's, who thankfully was still yammering on about postnatal vitamins or some other nonsense.

'Why is he—oh my gods!'

She instantly recalled the exact moment Raedon had lost his mind over the taste on her fingers.

The way his little goblin brain short circuited. The way his eyes had glazed over. The way he had licked like a man dying of thirst discovering a mountain spring.

And now?

Now that very same sinful nectar had trickled down her thigh, past her knee...

And he had just licked it.

A quick, curious flick of his tongue—like a heat-seeking missile for shame.

'No, no, no. This cannot be happening.'

She bit her lip and tried not to moan. Because if that little lunatic under the table did it again, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep the act up.

"M-mother, I'll take the medicine! Y-you go and enjoy your shopping, really!"

Alice's voice cracked with forced cheerfulness as she tried to usher her overly helpful mother-in-law out the door like a bouncer at closing time.

"What? Don't be silly, dear! What kind of mother-in-law would I be if I left you like this? I simply must make you a nice cup of herbal tea."

Emily declared with dramatic flair, already unloading her bag onto the counter like she lived there.

Alice's soul nearly left her body.

"That's alright, Mother, really—this isn't anything serious, just a little—"

"Nonsense!"

Emily cut her off, bustling around the kitchen with the kind of loud efficiency that only a confident matriarch could wield.

"Where is that little goblin when you need him? Can't he even stay around long enough to help when you're clearly unwell?"

Alice's fingers tightened on the edge of the chair.

'Oh gods, if only you knew where he actually is right now...'

She glanced down at the draped fabric of the tablecloth, under which Raedon's warm breath still teased her thighs.

Every so often, that slick, impossibly long tongue would flick across her skin like he was taste-testing her soul.

The kettle clattered onto the stove.

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Emily was humming now, completely oblivious.

Alice wanted to scream: The man you're looking for is RIGHT HERE under the table, licking my thighs like it has cream on it!

But instead, she just smiled stiffly, sweat trailing down her temple like a confession.

'Why the hell is his tongue so long? And why am I thinking about that right now?!'

Alice's mind was spiraling like a soap opera script gone rogue.

Her knees were trembling under the table, betraying her more with every second. She didn't know what was happening anymore—but her thighs had started to quiver in a way that only Raedon noticed.

And Raedon didn't care one bit.

System notifications pinged uselessly in the back of his mind like pop-ups during a game of lust-fueled tunnel vision.

But none of it registered.

Raedon wasn't Rae anymore.

He was full goblin mode now.

A feral, drooling, thigh-worshipping menace powered by nothing but primal instinct and an absolutely unhinged lust meter.

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