The First Patriarch: Streaming My Cosmic Harem

Chapter 58: Chapter 58: The Milking Technique [R18]

As the sweet chimes of continuous high-tier gifts echoed directly into his mind, Azriel’s smirk widened.

He gathered a fresh handful of the rich, silken body wash, rubbing his palms together until it transformed into a thick, creamy foam.

Pulling another white stool right up behind her, he sat down, pressing his broad, solid chest directly against her bare back.

Rosalind’s golden eyes slowly fluttered open, heavy with a rising, heavy heat.

Her chest heaved in anticipation, her body instinctively arching back slightly as she waited for his touch.

Slowly, deliberately, Azriel slid his large, soapy hands under her heavy, plush breasts, cupping the full weight of the ivory globes.

He squeezed them gently, mimicking the exact, vacuum-tight pressure she had ruthlessly used on his shaft just moments ago.

His thumbs brushed broadly across her beautifully sensitive pink nipples.

"Ah..." Rosalind gasped, her fingers instinctively locking around his forearms for support as her spine flexed softly against his chest.

The friction of the rich, warm lather combined with his large, calloused palms sent a violent shiver running straight down to her tailbone.

"Is the pressure alright, Rose?" Azriel whispered, his deep, roguish voice vibrating directly against her shoulder blade.

"Shut up and just... keep washing," she commanded weakly.

She tried desperately to cling to a shred of her dominant composure, but the frantic, erratic thumping of her striped tail against the marble floor betrayed her completely.

Azriel only smiled.

His strong fingers sank deeper into those heavy breasts, the soft flesh spilling out effortlessly from between his fingers as he began to massage them in slow, firm circular motions.

Rosalind’s breath hitched completely, her eyes locking onto the steaming ceiling as the friction built.

After a minute of heavy kneading, Azriel shifted his grip.

He firmly anchored his hands at the very base of her breasts, compressing them tightly before sliding his palms forward all the way to the tips, pulling the plush weight forward as if he were milking a prized cow.

Though no milk came, the intense localized stimulation sent a sudden, overwhelming surge of liquid heat straight down between Rosalind’s thighs.

Her body suddenly tensed.

Azriel felt the shift immediately.

Her jaw was clenched, and her ears were pinned back, she was gritting her teeth, realizing she was losing this unspoken battle of dominance to her own slave.

Her hyper-competitive GrandMaster pride fiercely resisted the idea of melting completely under his hands.

Amused by her stubborn resistance, Azriel played her body like a finely tuned instrument.

He began alternating his techniques to break her defenses.

First, he would accelerate the massage to a blinding, aggressive pace, forcing her breathing to fracture into shallow, breathless huffs.

Then, just as she grew accustomed to the speed, he would abruptly slow down, tracing the light, soapy tips of his fingers in agonizingly slow circles around her large, swollen pink areolas, making her hold her breath in sheer suspense.

Finally, sensing her body was tightly coiled on the absolute precipice of a climax, Azriel decided to break her completely.

He clamped his hands firmly around the base of her breasts, squeezing them tightly together, and used his thumbs and forearms to heavily pinch her beautiful pink nipples.

"Ahnnn! Azriel—!"

Rosalind’s competitive restraint shattered into a million pieces.

She moaned loudly, a raw, entirely unbidden sound that echoed off the bathhouse walls as she came incredibly hard.

Her back violently arched off the stool, her head collapsing backward onto his shoulder as the internal waves of her climax overtook her.

Azriel didn’t stop; he kept up a light, fluttering massage against her hyper-sensitive breasts, deliberately prolonging the electric simulation as her body shivered against his.

The premium Tier-3 live chat was practically running at a million miles an hour, the screen flashing with continuous donation alerts.

[LIVE CHAT]

[Sadistic69] (Red): HOLY HELL! He broke her! The Duchess just completely lost the dominance war! Look at her head on his shoulder!

[Nine_Tailed_Vixen] (Cyan): The milk-pulling technique?! Oh my god, Azriel is a menace to beastwomen everywhere! She didn’t even touch her pussy and she’s squirting on the marble!

[Boundless_Slacker] (Red): Bro didn’t even use his dick and he got a peak GrandMaster to moan his name like a prayer. Give this man a medal.

[Lusty_Sera] (Golden): Look at how he’s still lightly massaging her while she’s coming... that is pure psychological torture and absolute pleasure. Incredible.

As the tremors in her body slowly began to subside, Rosalind remained slumped back against his broad chest, her breathing shallow and ragged as the warm bathwater cascaded down her skin.

Azriel smiled smoothly.

His hands slid down from her highly sensitive breasts, tracing the elegant, narrowing curve of her waist before continuing their downward descent.

He guided his fingers lower, slipping beneath the surface of the warm water toward her heavily dripping core.

As his knuckles grazed the inside of her thighs, Rosalind’s breath hitched

Internally, her fierce competitive pride was warring with her body, she was quietly furious that she had just completely undone herself solely from the intense stimulation he had provided to her chest.

The moment his fingers brushed against her highly sensitive clit, a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

Azriel’s grin widened with roguish satisfaction.

He slid a single, teasing finger deep into her slick, wet folds.

She let out another breathy moan, her head rolling back against his neck.

Slowly, deliberately, he withdrew his finger, bringing the glistening fluids up between them.

Right before her eyes, he slid his tongue along his finger, licking the taste of her release clean.

"Hmm..." Azriel murmured, his violet eyes locking onto her heavy gaze with a dark, burning intensity.

"This part got way more dirty than before, Rose. I think a deep wash won’t be enough... I’m going to have to use my mouth for this."

Hearing those words, a thrilling surge of anticipation shot straight down Rosalind’s spine.

Her inner irritation instantly vanished, replaced by a deep, carnal satisfaction.

She absolutely loved the sheer, unbridled pleasure of him worshiping her from below, finding it incredibly sexy to watch him completely take control of her body with his tongue while her fluids coated his face.