The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort-Chapter 545: The Merchants and New Toys (2) [18+]

"Rodion, direct Soldiers to sweep every corridor between here and the front showroom. Mark any eavesdroppers."

<Orders received. Mobilizing Chimera Ant Soldiers.>

In perfect synchrony, the ten armored creatures scampered upward. Two climbed curtains with hook-like limbs; another disappeared under a doorjamb without so much as ruffling the velvet. Within seconds, they became living shadows patrolling the boutique’s bones.

Rhea’s turn: "Workers—full diagnostic of security caches. Flag any weak locks or mana leaks."

<Confirming. Dispatching Worker units.> Tiny feet pattered like rain on leaves. The ants dispersed, antennae bobbing as they slipped beneath furniture, up support beams, into hidden ducts Estella had forgotten existed.

Both women watched, eyes shining—as if they had just discovered an orchestra playing a secret symphony only they could hear. Estella’s laughter spilled out, light and ringing. "They follow nuance," she marvelled. "Look—they’re sealing the smallest crack with resin."

Mikhailis leaned forward, elbow on knee, chin in palm, enjoying their wonder. Pride—warm and effervescent—swelled inside him. "The Queen designs them to anticipate. They read gaps the way a sommelier reads a wine’s legs."

Rodion chimed, tone dry: <His analogy is crude but functional.>

Estella giggled; even Rhea’s mouth twitched. Then tasks resumed—until Estella realized her own hand had drifted, almost of its own accord, toward Mikhailis’s. She hesitated, then let her fingers slide between his, corner of her thumb brushing his pulse.

Mikhailis’s brows rose. He hadn’t expected physical gratitude quite so soon. Moments later, a second warmth pressed lightly against his thigh—Rhea’s fingertips, careful yet deliberate, as though staking a claim.

He glanced from one woman to the other. Estella’s cheeks glowed like peach skin kissed by dawn. Rhea’s eyes—a winter sea usually calm—shimmered with ripples of soft emotion, unfamiliar but welcome.

"There’s always something unexpected with you, Your Highness," Estella murmured, voice vibrating between awe and playful scold.

"Yes," Rhea breathed, silver-blue irises dilating. "You make my pulse misbehave." The admission came out shy, as if she feared the syllables might vanish.

Mikhailis swallowed—his throat suddenly parched despite the warm tea at his elbow. "Um... boutique?" he offered weakly. "Customers? Shelves about to explode?"

Estella only laughed, leaning in until the freckle at the bridge of her nose almost brushed his. "My floor managers will survive. They practice for crises daily."

Rhea’s lips curved—a sunrise thawing winter cliffs. "And the new system—Rodion—will alert us if stardust so much as sprinkles the wrong shelf."

Mikhailis opened his mouth to tease but Estella closed the distance. Her kiss touched like soft velvet first, then bloomed into warm satin, tasting faintly of rosewater and triumph. Her fingers squeezed his, grounding him yet sending sparks fizzing through his veins.

She drew back with a soft sigh. Rhea was already moving, turning his face gently with two fingers. Her lips, in contrast, kissed like snowflakes melting on skin: cool, careful, unexpectedly sweet. A tiny tremor travelled through her frame—trust breaking free of old armour.

Mikhailis’s arms reacted before thought. One circled Estella’s waist—marvelling at the way her breath hitched against his ribs—while the other curved up to cradle Rhea’s cheek. Her skin felt soft as dew-covered petals; he brushed his thumb there, coaxing her deeper. The kiss shifted, slowed, became an unhurried conversation of mouths—question, answer, promise.

In the dim halo of the lounge, time loosened its grip. The faint harp notes blended with soft breaths. Rodion, tactful, muted his own interface glow.

Estella rested her forehead on Mikhailis’s shoulder, fingers drawing idle circles on the back of his hand. Rhea remained close, her palm still on his thigh, pulse steadying beneath her composed exterior.

Mikhailis let his eyelids flutter closed a moment, drinking in the mingled scents of jasmine, citrus, and a hint of parchment—a background note that always followed Rhea like a bookmark tucked in her soul. I crack jokes, chase insects, design nonsense inventions... and somehow I have all this? The thought filled him with something bigger than pride—gratitude, maybe. Awe.

He exhaled, gaze drifting to watch a Worker ant finish mending a cracked display stand with seamless amber Estella’s soft fingers tightened around Mikhailis’s hand, her touch warm, her emerald-green eyes shimmering with a mix of affection and quiet longing. But her gaze soon shifted, her lips curving in a slow, almost mischievous smile. Without another word, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a soft, lingering kiss.

"Mmmhh... slrp... mhh..." The gentle, delicate touch quickly grew bolder, her warm, sweet breath mingling with his, her tongue slipping past his lips, swirling, teasing, tasting. Her lips moved hungrily, each kiss growing deeper, the wet, soft sounds filling the quiet, perfumed air of the lounge.

Mikhailis’s pulse quickened, his arms instinctively wrapping around her slender waist, feeling the soft, warm curve of her body pressing against his chest. His tongue danced with hers, twisting, tasting, sliding between her lips. His free hand moved to cradle the back of her head, his fingers threading through her thick, dark green curls.

"Mmmhh... slrp... mhh...!" Estella’s kisses grew hungrier, her soft, warm lips pressing, sucking, her tongue darting between his lips, coaxing his own into a slow, heated dance. Her breaths came faster, soft gasps slipping free between each kiss.

But even as he kissed Estella, Mikhailis felt another touch—a delicate, trembling hand slipping against the front of his trousers. His eyes flicked to the side, catching Rhea’s calm, silver-blue gaze—except now, that calm had melted into something fierce, something desperate. Her cheeks flushed a soft pink, her lips slightly parted.

Her slender fingers brushed against the thick, growing heat beneath his trousers, tracing the firm, pulsing length. A faint, shuddering gasp slipped from her lips as she felt it, thick, hot, and swelling beneath her touch. Without hesitation, her other hand deftly unfastened the waistband, and with a smooth, desperate motion, she slipped his length free.

Her silver-blue eyes widened as the thick, heavy length sprang forth, pulsing, warm, the swollen, slick head glistening. Her lips parted, a faint, trembling breath slipping free. And then—she leaned in, pressing soft, heated kisses against his neck, her warm breath washing over his skin.

"Mmhh... slrp... mhh..." Rhea’s kisses were different from Estella’s—softer, more careful at first, but growing bolder with each touch. Her lips pressed against his jaw, trailing down to his collarbone, her tongue leaving faint, wet trails that cooled in the perfumed air. Her hand continued to stroke his thick, pulsing length, her soft, delicate fingers curling, tightening, sliding.

Mikhailis’s mind spun, his senses drowning in their warmth, their touch, the sweet, wet sounds of their kisses. He didn’t forget Estella—his lips pressed more firmly against hers, his tongue swirling with hers, tasting her sweet, faintly rose-scented breath.

"Mmmhh... slrp... mhh... mhh..." Their kisses grew messier, his tongue pushing into her mouth, swirling, twisting, tasting, only to be met by her own, sucking gently, pulling him deeper. Her soft, warm body pressed tighter against his, her chest rising and falling rapidly against his own.

But even as his lips claimed Estella’s, his hand slipped to the side, brushing against Rhea’s soft cheek. Her silver-blue eyes met his, wide, vulnerable, but hungry. She leaned into his touch, her lips trailing from his neck to his chest, pressing wet, desperate kisses against his bare skin.

Rhea’s hand moved faster, her slender fingers stroking the thick, heated length, tracing the pulsing veins, her palm brushing the sensitive, swollen tip. A faint, needy whimper slipped from her lips, muffled against his chest.

And then, with a faint, teasing grin, Mikhailis’s strong hands slipped to Estella’s waist. He lifted her slightly, her soft, curvy frame settling against his lap. But he didn’t push himself inside her—not yet. His thick, pulsing length pressed between her warm, slick thighs, the heat of her entrance brushing against the swollen head.

"Ah... Mikhailis..." Estella breathed, her voice a sweet, trembling whisper. Her slick, warm folds pressed against his length, rubbing, sliding, her slick warmth smearing against the thick, heated shaft. Her thighs squeezed around him instinctively, her hips rocking gently, grinding against the thick, pulsing heat.

"Mmmhh... slrp... mhh..." Their lips met again, her tongue swirling, dancing with his, the wet, desperate sounds of their kiss filling the room. Her fingers tangled in his silver-blond hair, pulling him closer, her breath hot, her body trembling.

Rhea’s hand didn’t leave him—her soft, delicate fingers stroked the thick length where it slid between Estella’s slick thighs, her touch a faint, teasing warmth. Her lips pressed against his neck again, her tongue tracing the faint, pulsing veins beneath his skin.

Estella’s hips rocked faster, her slick warmth sliding against the thick, heated length, her breath coming faster. "Ah... I... I can’t... Mikhailis... please...!"

Her desperate plea sent a rush of heat through him, a fierce, aching desire that ignited his senses. Mikhailis’s strong hands gripped Estella’s soft, curvy hips, his fingers sinking into the warm, plush flesh. Her body trembled beneath his touch, her emerald-green eyes wide, her soft lips parted in a desperate, gasping whimper.

"Please... please...!" she whispered, her voice a sweet, trembling plea, her fingers clawing at his shoulders.

He leaned in, his warm breath washing over her ear. "Are you ready, Estella?"