Chapter 240: Chapter 240 – Mira sold Helena to Viktor

// Helena, you are going with him and yet in such boring clothes? //

’!’

’Huh?’, Helena blinked hearing Mira’s words before her lips trembled, looking at Viktor’s hunched back as he was helping Elara. She realized Mira was right.

“Y-young master, I will come in a moment.” Helena swiftly sprinted inside the manor, making Viktor though find it confusing but didn’t care much, looking at Elara.

“Come on,” Viktor said, his voice carrying that same casual confidence that made Elara want to slap him. Or run. Or maybe both. “Unless you’d rather stay here with the others?”

Her amber eyes darted past him. To the manor behind where Mira stood in the doorway, arms crossed, smirking like she knew exactly what was about to happen.

To Kaida, who leaned against the wall sharpening one of her daggers with deliberate slowness.

To Bella—poor, thoroughly-fucked Bella—who sat on the steps looking like a kitten who’d been petted way too hard, silver hair disheveled, white robe barely covering her thighs.

’I can’t stay here.’ She thought about how, if she were to be here, the memories of what he did to these women would keep surfacing.

’But going with him…’

Her hand moved before her brain caught up. Slender fingers slipped into his palm.

Viktor’s grip was warm. Firm. He pulled her up effortlessly—like she weighed nothing—and suddenly she was standing, her legs wobbling, face inches from his chest.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Elara’s face flushed crimson. “I’m not—I didn’t—this doesn’t mean—!”

“Helena,” Viktor called out, completely ignoring her stammering protests. “We are leaving.”

“Yes, Young Master!”

Helena emerged from the manor entrance, her enormous breasts bouncing with each step. She’d changed into a dress—deep blue fabric that clung to her curves like a second skin.

The neckline plunged dangerously low, revealing the valley of her cleavage, and the skirt…

Elara’s eyes widened.

’Is that even a skirt? It’s more like a long belt!’

The hem barely reached mid-thigh, and with each movement, it rode up even higher, threatening to expose everything underneath.

Helena’s wide hips swayed as she walked, the fabric stretching taut across her thick thighs and forming a gap as it sank in her ass crack.

To be honest, saying that dress was size of Bella’s wouldn’t be wrong.

“Young Master,” Helena said breathlessly, stopping beside them. Her warm brown eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement. “I am ready…?”

’Did she want to ride me or a mount…’, Viktor felt his mouth and cock both twitch. Helena looked too provoking, making him inquire to the one he highly doubted was behind all this.

’Mira, I was just going for Tower inspection—’

// Husband, you know right, in early phase of pregnancy women libido is high? // Mira’s voice seemed too factual, making Viktor blink, as the tone in which she said it made him doubt whether she was just talking about herself or Helena too.

’But isn’t this be other way around? It could be dangerous—’ Viktor wasn’t saint, he was just acting to be one which naturally didn’t work on Mira.

// Then just fuck her other hole? //

’….’

’Shit.’ Mira’s words short-circuited his brain as he eyed Helena’s ass, the one which should have become boring by now after how many times he saw it but still, he felt visible surge of blood down his crotch, all because of his perverted wife.

“Young master?”

And Helena this close with that soft tender warm voice giving fresh fragrance of her bathed body.

“Helena, you—”

“KYUU~!” Rusty’s high-pitched voice rumbled through the air like thunder pulling him out of thought.

Elara coming forward, hand holding her elbow in clear hesitation repeating herself. “W-we’re riding… ’that’?”

“Unless you’d prefer to walk,” Viktor said, already moving toward the dragon. “It’s only about ten miles. Through rough terrain. With monsters. Your choice.”

’Ten miles?!’

Elara looked at the Tower in the distance—that massive purple-pink structure pulsing like a heartbeat. It looked so close from here, but…

“…Fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

Viktor’s grin was absolutely predatory. “Thought so.”

Rusty lowered his massive head, his translucent wing folding down to create a makeshift ramp.

The gelatinous surface was surprisingly solid—like walking on firm jelly.

Viktor climbed up first, his boots finding purchase on the dragon’s ridged spine.

He settled into position near the base of Rusty’s neck, right between two massive dorsal fins that rose like crystalline blades.

“Helena, choose.”

Helena didn’t hesitate. She gathered her skirt—what little there was—and climbed up with practiced ease.

Her movements were graceful despite her voluptuous figure, thick thighs flexing as she scaled the dragon’s side.

Elara watched, face burning, as Helena positioned herself directly in front of Viktor.

She sat with her legs spread wide on either side of Rusty’s neck, the skirt bunching up over her thighs, exposing creamy pale skin all the way up to—

’Sh-she is too shameless?!’

Helena leaned back, her spine pressing flush against Viktor’s chest. Her massive breasts rose and fell with each breath, straining against the fabric of her dress.

The back of her head rested just below his chin as if intentionally teasing his nose.

Viktor’s arms came around her waist, hands settling on her stomach.

“Comfortable?” he murmured into her ear.

Helena shivered feeling her hips arching a bit instinctively to feel him. “Y-yes, Young Master.”

“Good. Elara, get your ass up here.”

Elara jolted. “Where am I supposed to—?!”

“Behind me. Hold on tight.”

She climbed up slowly, every muscle in her body screaming that this was a terrible idea. The dragon’s surface was warm—almost hot—and she could feel it pulsing beneath her hands like a living heartbeat.

She settled behind Viktor, her hands hovering uselessly at her sides.

“Hold. On.” Viktor’s voice carried a warning edge.

Elara’s fingers reluctantly gripped the edges of his shirt.

’This is fine. This is totally fine. Just a dragon ride. Nothing weird happening. Nothing at all—’

“Rusty, up!”

“KYUUUUUUU~!”

WHOOOOSH!

The dragon’s wings snapped open—massive translucent membranes stretching ten meters on each side. They beat once. Twice.

And then Rusty ’launched’.

The ground disappeared. The manor shrunk to the size of a dollhouse. The wind screamed past Elara’s ears like a freight train.

“AAAHHHHHHH—!”

Elara’s scream tore from her throat as her stomach dropped into her feet. Her hands flew from Viktor’s shirt, wrapping around his torso in a death grip, her face smashing into his back.

“WAIT WAIT WAIT—WHY IS IT FLYING SO FAST?!”

Viktor chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest into her pressed-against-him face. “Come on, weren’t you the one who said you’d sit behind?”

“BECAUSE I DON’T WANT YOU TO—!”

Her words cut off as Rusty banked hard left. The world tilted sideways. Elara’s scream reached a pitch that probably shattered glass somewhere.

Helena, meanwhile, seemed perfectly calm. Her hands rested over Viktor’s—the ones still settled on her stomach—and she tilted her head back slightly, brown eyes half-lidded.

Viktor felt her shift. Felt the way her back arched just slightly, pressing her ass more firmly against his crotch.

’Oh.’

’Was this Mira talking about being high libido?’

His wife wanted attention.

And Viktor? Well, he was never one to disappoint.

His fingers tightened on her stomach—feeling the soft give of flesh, the way her breathing hitched when he applied pressure.

Helena’s hand slid over his, guiding it. Slowly. Deliberately.

Upward.

Viktor’s palm moved from her belly to the swell of her ribs. Then higher. Until his fingers brushed the underside of her left breast through the fabric.

’How she even walks with such heavy burdens.’

Even through the dress, he could feel the weight—the way her breast filled his entire hand and then some. His fingers sank into soft flesh, molding it, feeling the heat radiating through the thin fabric.

“Umh…” Helena’s breath hitched. Her hand squeezed his, urging him on.

Viktor glanced back. Elara’s face was still buried in his back, her death grip on his waist unrelenting. She was too terrified to notice anything.

’Sigh, and here is this one tying her burdens in tight clothes.’ He could feel her soft chest. Clearly, it felt as though she had tied them tightly under two or three layers of the shirt she wore.

She was cruel to not even let his back feel them completely—though he felt a split, four fleshes, as if a band was tied in the middle, overflowing the boobs like sandwiches.

He leaned forward, tilting his head towards the one who was juicy and his, mouth at Helena’s ear. “What happened, Helena?”

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