‘He survived the avalanche and still had enough energy left to save me.
He’s probably more skilled than a normal mercenary, right? …Probably?’
There was a reason why denizens of the Labyrinth jokingly referred to themselves as Labyrinth hillbillies.
Most of them had lived their entire lives inside the mage’s paradise, ignorant of the outside world’s standards of normality and common sense.
Even on the occasions when mages were sent out, they had travelled in groups of 3 or 5, keeping to themselves, setting up protective shields, pouring magic on the magic beasts, and returning without indulging in extraneous business.
Furthermore, if one were to think in game terms, mages were long-distance damage dealers.
They only looked at knights and mercenaries from afar.
All they thought, when looking at physical warriors, were ‘Ah, there goes the people that wave around swords and shields.’ or ‘I heard that a knight who managed to single-handedly slay a dragon appeared in the east–the first in a few hundred years!’
‘If Sir Bloom and Janus fought, who would win?’
Perhaps Janus would prevail–after all, the mercenary had walked around so freely even with his eyes covered.
While deep in thought, Ayra suddenly yelped, making a particularly loud but not particularly lewd sound.
He had been bitten by Janus! Ayra quickly pulled his hand away and furrowed his brows, Janus took this opportunity to kiss his bite mark.
That was to say…the mercenary had bit down hard enough to bruise—yet it was no more than friendly foreplay to him.
“You’re quite relaxed.
It’s not quite ‘good’ yet for you, huh? Sorry, I’ll try harder.”
“Y-You don’t have to…!” Before Ayra could fully voice his objections that the mercenary didn’t need to try harder, his lips were blocked.
The young lord subconsciously tried to retreat, but it was to no avail; Janus had reached out and blocked his way.
The mercenary wrapped his warm palms around the back of the young lord’s neck, tilted his chin, and kissed the young lord on the lips.
In his bewilderment, Ayra’s lips parted; a thick tongue pushed into his open mouth.
‘His hands and penis are large…is his tongue proportional in size?’ Ayra, who had been comfortably lost in his own theories, thought blankly.
He poised his teeth to bite the invading tongue, but immediately thought about the strength laden in the other’s hands and chose instead to keep his mouth open obediently, daunted by the thought of future troubles.
Janus’s tongue was even hotter than his hands.
The red tongue plunged in and out of the young lord’s open mouth; when Ayra opened his mouth further, the mercenary licked a stripe from chin to cheek, without even touching the offered mouth.
‘Really, he’s like a dog.’
Ayra tilted his head away, trying to convey to the mercenary that he should stop licking him, but Janus followed his movements and kissed the young lord once more.
This time, Ayra closed his mouth, but he had no choice but to relax his jaw under the pressure applied to his chin.
“Nngh…nnnh…” Ayra inadvertently scowled.
The mercenary quickly sucked on the young lord’s tongue, which had stuck out slightly in protest.
Janus pressed his mouth to the lord’s reddened, moist lips over and over again.
It was as if he were lapping food from a bowl–from Ayra.
The mercenary mouthed at the other and sucked his saliva.
A lewd slurping sound could be heard with every lick and suck.
Could this even be called kissing?
The mercenaries sucked on the tip of his tongue as if it were candy.
When Ayra could no longer endure the ache of the kiss and curled his tongue away, Janus poked its underside with his tongue.
The action was somewhat reminiscent of actual sexual penetration.
Ayra tried to push the other’s tongue away with his own; Janus grew more excited and forced his way through.
The young lord’s salivary glands were stimulated, and the accumulated saliva dripped down his throat.
Ayra swallowed the accumulated saliva reflexively; his ears burned bright red.
This wasn’t a kiss–this was an extorted caress.
Ayra originally planned to ignore the other and let him do as he pleased but eventually couldn’t endure any longer.
“Hnngh, Wait, a minute…” The young lord turned his head and barely managed to speak, but his mouth was caught right away.
This time, it was a proper kiss; lips locked together, with a tongue lewdly moving in and out.
The young lord’s moans were heartily consumed.
Rather than a tongue, it felt like some other thing that had a hard core in its centre that behaved with a mind of its own.
Janus greedily poked through as he pleased and gently rubbed against the roof of Ayra’s mouth.
With the tip of his rounded tongue, he went deeper and deeper.
Finally, the mercenary reached the soft and tender flesh near his Adam’s apple.
Ayra tried to withdraw almost instinctively, but Janus pressed his whole body against the young lord.
Could a human’s tongue even reach that deep? However, he could no longer continue to think properly; the hand that had been docilely resting on Ayra’s hips began to move.
Janus’s mouth consumed Ayra’s breath and bit at his lips until the young lord gasped, while his fingers skillfully caressed lightly flushed skin.
When Ayra squirmed as Janus’s fingers stroked past certain points, the mercenary took notice and stroked the area over and over again.
It felt as if the heat of the man’s body was being transferred by touch.
Before long, Ayra’s previous cold was forgotten, and heat bloomed from underneath pale skin.
Ayra’s upright torso gradually fell over.
Pleasure spread through his nerves–so much so that the young lord wondered if he had swallowed his companion’s lust.
Try as he might, Ayra could no longer remain indifferent to that touch.
The mercenary tickled and caressed his skin until he finally landed on a sensitive, erogenous spot—one that Ayra didn’t even know he had.
Whenever the mercenary lightly scratched at the dip in between the young lord’s waist and hip, Ayra felt something that resembled a tickle and static electricity shoot through his body.
‘Ah, nngh, ha….’ Moans kept flowing from the young lord’s mouth as he whipped his head back and forth.
After receiving such persistent and tenacious caresses, Ayra’s thighs spasmed; he attempted to grab the cape to cover his body.
Those movements did not escape Janus’s eyes and he confiscated the cape.
“Do you feel a bit better now?” Janus asked, as his lips left lingering, ardent kisses on the young lord’s lips, cheeks, and the corners of his red eyes.
After trying several times to take the cape back, Ayra turned his head as his swollen lips were nipped.
He was confused, but his fingertips also trembled in anticipation.
Ayra clung to the last his pride, unwilling to admit how good it felt.
Janus, realizing that he would not receive the answer he wanted, eventually stopped teasing his companion and swept the man’s disheveled silver hair behind his ears.
In that same action, Janus swept what remained of the cape off the young lord’s shoulders.
The cape that covered his body disappeared, revealing Ayra’s body in it’s full naked glory.
There were already signs of excitement between the young lord’s legs–something the young lord wanted to keep hidden.
Ayra began to tremble, fervently hoping that his trembling was due to the cold.
Or that it stemmed from his embarrassment from sitting on another’s body, wearing nothing but shoes….
Janus’s hands cupped Ayra’s cheek.
Perhaps the mercenary liked his soft, malleable ears that had gone red from the cold; he kept fiddling with them.
Cheeks blushing from both shame and excitement, Ayra, who had been looking at the walls of the igloo, lowered his gaze.
The young lord’s grey pupils, hidden underneath silver eyelashes, glimmered with excitement and anticipation.
Janus took the liberty to grope Ayra’s chest.
Because the mage had neither fat nor muscle, he frowned at the slight pain.
Janus immediately lightened his grip.
His languid fingers circled Ayra’s areola before directly pressing down on the nipples.
The mercenary mischievously scratched at the tip with his index finger a few times, and the nipples hardened from the stimulus.
Ayra’s cheeks flushed further.
When the hand that had been fondling his nipple migrated lower, Ayra’s heartbeat sped up even further.
His mouth felt dry; he felt needlessly thirsty.
Ayra sat with his thighs spread wide around Janus’s legs, his crotch exposed and defenseless.
Suddenly, Janus pulled Ayra’s straight legs even further apart.
Something rose up from the newly formed empty space and tapped Ayra’s butt.
The embarrassing contact made Ayra’s back, which had slouched from languid pleasure, go rigid once more.
Yet the rubbing and thrusting motions did not stop; Ayra’s legs twitched with every bump and tap of that heavy member against his skin.
The mercenary had already given his word that he wouldn’t enter him, yet Ayra still felt goosebumps originating from the points of contact.
Janus’s hands brushed past the mage’s penis, narrowly touching him, and settled on the inside of Ayra’s thigh.
When he saw Ayra, trembling and hard with anticipation, he chuckled.
Janus grabbed the inside of the young lord’s pale thighs, leaving behind a handprint.
“Do all Solar people have such pretty, pink dicks?”
“Why, do you…ask me? You said you’ve had several lovers before…” The insolent question took Ayra’s breath away—yet the shakiness of his reply was not due to Janus’s shamelessness, but rather the fact that the mercenary’s index finger was currently touching the young mage’s ear.
The mercenary’s other hand continued to circle around his nipple; Ayra felt dizzy for a brief moment, barely managing to swallow back a groan.
“Your lovers…they must have all been women, then?”
“No, rather, I never placed much focus on what was between their legs.
Man or woman, what’s important is the hole, isn’t it?”
Ayra didn’t answer–at the very least, Ayra was of the same opinion.
However, his lack of response was not due to his unwillingness to reply, but rather his inability to speak.
Janus had taken his fingernail and scratched gently at the most sensitive flesh underneath the mage’s urethra.
At that moment, Ayra felt lightheaded; the mage moved to push him away, but Janus caught both wrists at once.
“Don’t do what? This?” Janus placed his fingertip back on the mage’s urethra.
He moved as if to lightly scratch, before pressing down on that erogenous zone.
“Or, are you talking about this?” This time, Janus grabbed the mage’s ear with both his forefinger and thumb.
He didn’t touch any other spots on the mage’s body, but Ayra struggled to catch his breath–the gentle caresses and the mercenary’s exhales against his flushed skin felt magnified.
“Do you feel good now?” Janus asked.
Once again, Ayra’s pride did not allow him to answer; he simply laid there, breathing heavily.
Janus muttered, ‘perhaps not,’ before moving his fingers again.
His fingers pressed harder than before; Ayra’s sense of rationality began to collapse at a rapid pace.
The fine, soft hair at the back of the mage’s neck raised up.
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