An Extra’s Rise in an Eroge-Chapter 274: Sol [2]

Chapter 274: Sol [2]
"A demon appearing so early... it’s not good," Sol repeated. Her voice had lost its playful lilt.
Arthur leaned back against the cold marble rim. The steam rising from the water did little to obscure Sol’s form, but for the first time since she’d manifested, he wasn’t looking at her curves. He was staring into her eyes—gold, piercing, and terrifyingly intelligent.
"I know," Arthur sighed, shutting his eyes. The adrenaline was gone, leaving only a bone-deep ache. "If a Count-level is here now, the scaling is broken. The mid-terms, the exchange—everything I prepped for just got harder."
He felt the water shift. Sol moved closer. Her hands, soft and impossibly warm, landed on his shoulders, her thumbs digging into the knotted muscle.
"You’re tight," she whispered, her breath hot against his wet ear. "And you’re overthinking."
"I’m strategizing," he corrected, groaning as she worked out a painful spot. "If I hadn’t stepped in—"
"They would have died," Sol cut him off. She slid her arms around his neck, pressing her front against his back. Skin on skin. Electric. "Stop carrying the weight of a world you haven’t fully saved yet."
Arthur opened his eyes, staring at the misty ceiling. "Hard not to when the script keeps changing."
"Then we rewrite it." She nipped his earlobe, sending a shiver down his spine. "You have me now. Not a voice.
Me
."
She moved around him, the water cascading off her skin as she stood. She didn’t hesitate this time. She stepped into the bath, the water rising to meet her. Since no clothes blocked his vision, Arthur could see everything—the pale curve of her breasts, the flush of her skin.
She sat, but the tub was cramped. As she settled, her leg brushed against him beneath the water. She flinched, retracting her foot instantly.
Arthur caught the movement. He smirked. "Sol... you’re flushed."
"It’s the steam," she shot back, though she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
"You’re embarrassed," he stated flatly.
"Why would I be embarrassed?" Sol scoffed, trying to regain her composure. "I have access to your memories. I’ve seen you have sex. I know the mechanics."
"Watching a movie isn’t the same as being in one," Arthur said, leaning forward. "Don’t try to front. It’s okay to be a rookie."
Her golden eyes narrowed. "Who are you calling a rookie?"
"You," Arthur grinned. "You talk a big game, Sol. Always teasing, always provoking. But now that you’re here, in the flesh... you’re shaking."
"I am not shaking."
"Prove it."
Sol huffed, her pride stung. "Fine. Let me show you exactly how much of a ’novice’ I am."
She waved her hand. The water churned, and suddenly Arthur felt weightless. His body lifted, floating until he was seated on the wide marble edge of the tub, looking down at her.
Sol crawled forward through the water.
The view from above was filthy. Sol looked up at him, her hair plastered to her neck, staring at his cock like it was a weapon she needed to disarm. She grabbed him with both hands, gulped audibly, and leaned in.
She opened her mouth and took the head in.
Arthur hissed as the wet, hot pressure of her mouth enclosed him. It was tight—impossibly tight. She bobbed her head experimentally, her tongue swirling clumsily around the sensitive ridge.
He looked down. Sol’s hands were wandering over her own body, her fingers digging into her thighs as if she didn’t know what to do with the sensation. She was overwhelmed, acting on instinct.
Arthur felt a surge of dominance. She was too slow. Too gentle.
"Sol," he grunted, reaching down. "You’re too soft."
"Hmm?" She tried to look up, her mouth full.
He didn’t wait. He grabbed a handful of her wet hair and snapped his hips forward.
"Ugh—!"
He buried his length in her throat in one brutal thrust. Sol gagged violently, her hands flying up to claw at his thighs, but he held her head in a vice grip, refusing to let her pull back. Her eyes rolled back, panic and pleasure warring in her gaze as the lack of air hit her.
He ignored it. He focused entirely on the friction, the heat, and the tightness of her throat.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The sound of wet flesh colliding echoed off the tiles as he face-fucked her, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, stretching her jaw to its limit. The outline of his cock bulged against the skin of her neck with every thrust.
"Take it, you bitch," he growled.
Sol’s resistance shattered. Her arms went limp, her body convulsing with every impact. He could feel the vibrations of her gag reflex against his shaft, tightening the sensation until it was unbearable.
He was close.
He sped up, piston-fucking her mouth with no regard for her breath. His hips stuttered, and he slammed into her one last time, holding her flush against his groin.
"Fuck..."
He erupted, shooting load after load deep into her throat. Sol convulsed, forced to swallow as he kept her pinned, draining every drop into her.
When he finally released her hair, she didn’t just pull away—she collapsed.
Sol slumped to the wet floor tiles, gasping for air, her eyes rolled up into her head, completely broken by the intensity. Her body twitched, overstimulated and overloaded. Between her splayed legs, a stream of yellow urine mixed with bathwater flowed freely across the tiles—she had completely lost control of her bladder, her body unable to handle the double assault on her senses.
***
Arthur stood up, water sluicing off his broad shoulders and hard muscles, pooling around his feet. He looked down at Sol, who was still coughing lightly, wiping a stray string of saliva from her chin. She looked wrecked in the most beautiful way possible—hair plastered to her face, chest heaving, her golden eyes wide and glassy.
"So," Arthur said, his voice low and rasping. "What do you think about it now, huh? Is it the same as seeing it on a screen?"
Sol glared up at him, a flash of her old defiance cutting through the haze of pleasure. "What the fuck was that?"
Arthur chuckled darkly. "That? That was barely a warm-up. We haven’t even gotten to the fucking yet, and you’re this angry? Sigh... novices are novices indeed."
The word ’novice’ seemed to snap something inside her. Her flush deepened, turning from pink to crimson. "You bastard. You act so roughly, choking me, and then have the gall to call me a novice?"
Arthur didn’t bother arguing. He just grinned, bent down, and scooped her up effortlessly into a princess carry. She yelped, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck as water splashed violently over the sides of the tub.
"Darling, don’t be so angry," he teased, stepping out of the bath. "We have the whole night left."
He walked into the bedroom, ignoring the water dripping onto the floor, and threw her onto the bed. The mattress absorbed the impact with a heavy thump, Sol bouncing slightly on the sheets. She looked up at him, her legs sprawled open, her robe long gone.
"You wanted this, didn’t you?" Arthur crawled onto the bed, looming over her like a dark cloud. "Let me show you how the real thing feels."
Sol didn’t argue back. She couldn’t. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her nipples hard points against the cool air.
Arthur’s dick, which had softened slightly, surged back to full hardness at the sight of her laid out for him. Her body was perfect—literally engineered to be his ideal. Her breasts were magnificent, ample and heavy, tipping to the sides with gravity. The skin was pale porcelain, capped with large, rosy pink nipples and tight, small areolas.
The moment he hovered over her, he was enveloped by a scent that made his head spin—soft, fluffy, and undeniably sweet.
God... I just want to bury my face in them.
Acting on pure instinct, Arthur collapsed forward, burying his face in the deep valley of her cleavage. He groaned, nuzzling the soft, squishy flesh, inhaling deeply. The aroma was strange, tickling his nose.
Is it the smell of mother’s milk?
She wasn’t a mother, nor was she lactating, yet she radiated the sweet, primal scent of baby formula and vanilla. Perhaps it was a quirk of her newly manifested form—pure and untouched.
He ran his tongue along the slope of her breast, swirling over the sensitive pink nipple. He half-expected the taste of sweet milk, but instead, he tasted the salt of her skin and the water from the bath. It was intoxicating.
He latched onto one nipple, sucking hard, his hand kneading her other breast like dough. He squeezed the soft flesh, watching it spill through his fingers. Sol gasped, her back arching off the mattress as she flinched at the sensation.
Arthur pulled back slightly, looking at her flushed face. "Auntie, what cup size are you?"
"..."
Sol refused to look at him. She turned her head to the side, burying her face in the pillow, her ears burning red. So much for all those dirty comments she used to make in his head when she was just a disembodied voice. Now that she was here, in the flesh, she was unraveling.
Her silence didn’t matter. Arthur cupped the weight of her breast, hefting it. "E-cup," he answered for her. "Definitely an E-cup."
"Shut up," she mumbled into the pillow.
Arthur laughed softly, his hand trailing down her ribcage, over the smooth curve of her stomach, until he reached the junction of her thighs. He didn’t need to check to know the truth, but he wanted her to see it.
He slid his hand between her legs. She was soaking wet.
"You naughty girl," he whispered, sliding two fingers deep into her slick heat. She shuddered, her hips bucking involuntarily. "You are so wet."
"...?" Sol turned her head back, making a face of absolute denial, as if her body wasn’t betraying her every second.
Like the generous man he was, Arthur withdrew his hand. He held his fingers up to her face. A thick, clear string of arousal stretched between his thumb and forefinger, glistening in the dim light.
"I wonder what this is..." Arthur drawled, his voice dripping with mock curiosity.
Sol stared at the fluid, momentarily confused, before the realization hit her. Her eyes widened, shifting from confusion to a look of mortified acceptance.
Arthur didn’t let up. He needed to break through that wall of embarrassment. He needed her raw and real.
"You perverted bitch," he growled, leaning close to her ear. "You’re a masochist who’s been dying for this, acting so coy now, huh?"
"..."
"Heh heh. Looks like you have nothing to say, you pervert."
He rubbed the fluids from his fingers onto her thigh, the tactile sensation making her shiver.
"Yeah. Yeah. I knew you were a bitch for a long time. Watching me all those years, waiting for your turn."
Because he kept talking, deliberately mocking and teasing her with vulgar filth, Sol finally snapped. The shame burned away, replaced by a flash of desperate, heated anger.
She turned to him, her teeth bared, her golden eyes blazing. "You talk too much! Just put it inside me already, you asshole!"