In the days that followed, Lancel found himself in a peculiar sort of recovery routine he hadn't quite anticipated when he first arrived at Countess Gretelle's mansion.
"Haaangh…! Lancel! ♡"
Mornings were meant for study, with Fiore guiding him through magical theory and practice.
But somehow, the books would end up forgotten as Fiore found herself kneeling beneath the desk, her lips wrapped around his cock while he tried to maintain focus on the texts before him.
Afternoons weren't much different, either.
What should have been rest periods for his still-healing body turned into sweaty, breathless sessions on the couch, against the wall, or once memorably, bent over the dining table when Countess Gretelle was away on errands.
Evenings brought their own special kind of exhaustion, with Fiore climbing into his bed before the moon had fully risen, as she whispered filthy suggestions that made his cock twitch each and every time.
