Reborn Regress Return: I Am the Heir of Shadows!-Chapter 95: You Said Spare bed... But It’s YOUR Bed! [R18]

When Fran asked Julian to stay over, he made a huge mistake.

He didn't realise the game had already fused with the real world. If normal. The NPCs wouldn't have desires. Instead, they would follow a digital script apart from basic needs like food and water.

He should have paid more attention when Fran's gaze lingered too long or when her hand stayed on his shoulder a few seconds longer than it needed to.

But he brushed it all off with the same convenient logic.

"Oh, she's just coded like that."

He thought this was still a game.

And that was his mistake.

***

The room became dark. There was no light—only a shining pair of pink spheres remained in Julian's sight before his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"Fran, what're you doing?" He asked, noticing her strange action.

"Hmm? I am going to bed. Why do you ask?" Before he could respond, she pushed his chest, forcing him onto the bed. His body sank into the soft, comfortable mattress filled with feathers and hay.

The scent of her filled the room—warmth and sweat from hours in leather armour, with something faintly floral beneath. Her weight pressed down on him, straddling his hips like she was claiming territory.

Julian opened his mouth to speak, but the words never came. Fran leaned forward, her face only inches away from his. The sweet scent of the fruited wine lingered on her breath as it tickled his lips.

His hands twitched at his sides, but he didn't push her off, not yet.

A dull haze lingered in his mind.

"I said I'm going to bed," she repeated, her voice low and rougher. "You've got a problem with that, Julian?"

He blinked, confused. "No. It's your house, after all."

"Damn right it is." She sniffed once, ears flicking. "Then stop acting like it's a trap."

He didn't quite understand her words, and sometimes she slipped in dialect that the system couldn't translate by the system, maybe words of her tribe.

Fran grunted, annoyed at his silence, moving again. Her thick thighs shifted against his sides, spreading as she settled firmly on top of him. The mattress creaked under her strength. Her hips rolled once, just once, slowly, and he could feel her heat through the thin linen pants.

Julian gulped, while sucking in air as he stared up at her.

Fran's eyes narrowed, seeing the twitch in his jaw.

Her mouth curved—not into a smile. Into a smirk. A knowing, victorious smirk.

"Yeah. That's what I thought."

Then she grabbed the small clay flask from beside the bed and took one long drink from it, and before he could react, she lowered her mouth to his.

The kiss was never romantic.

It was direct, hot, and messier than he expected. Fran's tongue slipped into his mouth without asking, bouncing and sliding along his teeth. It wasn't a question or request but a claim. And along with it came the syrupy sweet juice from the wine she just swallowed.

Poured into his throat with thick gulps. Warm, sticky and faintly fizzy. He coughed once, startled from the sudden action—but she held his jaw firm, hand wrapping around the back of his neck.

"Swallow it," she whispered against his lips.

He did, several times. Each time, it became easier and more delicious. By the third mouthful, his limbs felt heavy. His thoughts scattered, not numb but slower, like everything was sliding underwater.

His vision blurred at the edges, worse than it was earlier and the world he could focus on shrank until all that remained was the smell of her skin, the weight of her thighs and the taste of juice on her tongue.

"I always wondered if you'd be like this," she muttered, kissing the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his neck. "All that control. All that calm. But when you're pinned... what can you do?"

"I thought to myself, each night when you left, what if he comes tomorrow?" Her low voice was filled with a drunk heat as she sighed into his mouth.

"Then you came back, and all I could think about when you were preparing to leave... "What if next time you vanish for four years... or worse, you never come back?"

"!!!" Julian gazed up as she pulled back just far enough to look him in the eyes, her pupils dilated and cheeks as pink as her wavy hair. "I don't ask you to take responsibility."

Her hand slipped under the hem of his shoulder, rough fingers tracing over his stomach, stroking his muscles that tightened under her delicate touch.

"Still think I'm joking?" she asked.

Julian tried to speak. "Fran, we shouldn't—"

"Oh, now it's shouldn't?" she cut in, amused. "Earlier it was couldn't. You made me aware of you when we bathed together naked. You saved my life, helped me become stronger, What did you expect!?" She panted before muttering. "Now, the choice is gone."

He tried to sit up, but her thighs clamped around his legs, and she shoved him back down.

One hand pressed against his chest, her both leaning forward, her full weight driving him into the mattress again. The strength of her thighs caught him off guard, and he could only take deep breaths.

"Stay down," she hummed with a low growl. "You're warm. You smell good. And I'm ready to breed."

She leaned close, and for the first time, her voice softened just slightly.

"And... you let me get close. That was your mistake."

Julian's breath became heavier when faced with her sudden change. His body betrayed him as his hard cock pressed against the linen of his pants, right beneath her. And he knew Fran could feel it.

Her hips ground against it slowly, as if to test its shape and side... imprinting it to her soft flesh. She bit her lower lip while reaching between their connection.

Julian's eyes widened, her fingers untied his waistband with a flick, no awkward fumbling, she slipped the knot loose and pulled the fabric away from his body and then, for a moment she stopped.

Her nose sniffed the air, and her ears twitched as she looked down between them.

"...Hah." Her voice cracked with an almost breathless laugh. "That's... not fair."

Julian's cock stood thick and flushed in the low light, twitching slightly as the cool air hit it. It was his proud member, long and heavy. Her expression changed instantly, from teasing with a slight bitterness to something close to hunger and awe.

"I knew it would be big," she whispered, hand wrapping slowly around the base, "but this..."

Her thumb traced a slow circle over the leaking tip.

Julian twitched again.

Fran looked up, pink eyes burning.

"Lie back," she said. "Don't talk."

Then she lowered her head between his thighs.

***

Fran didn't go fast or rush into action—she moved like a huntress in the forest. She took her time, deliberately enjoying and embracing the sensation.

Her hand stayed wrapped at the base of his cock, holding him steady, like it was a weapon she needed to learn. Her eyes focused, studying its every detail. The bulging veins, the shape and the weight of it as it pulsed in her grip.

The rabbit looked genuinely fascinated.

Then she leaned closer with parted lips and kissed the tip.

Not some shy peck, not something dainty or classy. Her lips pressed against the sticky, warm head and held them there, and when she pulled back, a thin line of spit stretched between his head and her mouth.

Julian's hips shifted as he grunted, which caused Fran to smirk.

"Sensitive already?" she muttered. "Tch. You really were holding back."

His cock grew even more as her tongue came next. She licked the head in slow, lazy circles with an expression focused, as if to memorise the taste and sensation.

"Salty..." she whispered.

Fran flicked her tongue, then again before her lips parted wider and wrapped around the head, just barely fitting in her mouth.

Julian groaned as he clenched the sheets, the suction force more intense than a human's.

Her eyes looked up as she paused. "Something wrong?" she asked with a coquettish voice, her lips still resting on his tip.

He gritted his teeth. "You're doing this on purpose."

"Of course I am," she said.

Then she sank further.

An unbearable warmth, followed by a pleasant and slippery tightness finished with a hip jerking pressure. Her mouth slid lower along his length, adjusting her throat with a wet and hot sensation enveloping his cock.

He felt her jaw stretch slightly before stroking the underside of his cock with her flattened tongue before a sudden pull of suction around him. "Ah—fuck," Julian breathed, his eyes shutting tight.

Fran's throat shook with a soft moan, almost surprised by his reaction, tickling something deep inside him. The vibration travelled down his shaft. His hips jerked slightly, just a twitch, but she reacted immediately.

She pulled back with a wet pop, strings of saliva snapping from her lip to his cock.

"...That made you twitch," she said, curious. "You liked that?"

He stared at her while panting. "You're seriously asking that?"

Fran grinned. "So it's good!"

Then she went down again—further this time. Fran's lips slid halfway, then more. She gagged slightly, coughed once—but didn't stop. Her hand gripped the base tighter, stroking what she couldn't fit. Her pace was slow and messy. Her spit smeared along his shaft, soaking into his skin.

Julian tilted his head back, lifting his hips with a low grunt.

The sudden thrust caused Fran to pull up for breath, licking her lips with glassy eyes, whether from arousal or the wine—it wasn't clear.

"Can't take all of it," she muttered, frustrated. "Shit. You're fucking huge."

Her voice wasn't complaining but reverent. The Sakurapaw were a very sexual race, but only with a single partner.

Thus, finding things about their partners they loved was one of their racial traits.

Julian looked down at her, sweat beginning to collect at his temples. "Then don't try to—"

"Shut up," she cut him off, glaring at him. "I'm not some girl who backs down."

He blinked. Then, something in him stirred at that look and her tone. And just as he opened his mouth to respond, Fran shoved her head down again—this time faster.

He groaned aloud, hips thrusting up involuntarily.

Her gag reflex triggered again, but she didn't stop. Her eyes fluttered, and she watched his reaction from below. Saliva gushed down his shaft, dripping onto his thighs. She pulled back, coughing—but with a grin.

"Fuck... fuck..." she muttered under her breath, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face was flushed. Her thighs squeezed tighter around his hips.

Julian couldn't take it anymore.

His right hand reached up—fingers sliding through her pink hair, wrapping tight.

Fran froze.

Her ears twitched.

She looked up at him, mouth still open while panting softly.

Then she smiled—slowly revealing her teeth.

Julian's grip tightened.

"You're not stopping now," he said.

Then he pushed her head back down.