Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan

Chapter 316: Multitasking 101**

"Spread your legs a bit," Syris commanded smoothly.

Ren furrowed her brows, blinking at him in genuine confusion. The sponge in her soapy hand dripped back into the basin. What in the world was he up to now?

"Like this?" Ren asked, obediently shifting her feet further apart on the wet stone floor.

"Perfect," Syris purred.

Before Ren could even process his sudden movement, Syris stepped seamlessly right behind her. His large, pale hands clamped securely onto her hips. With a firm, effortless push, he forcefully bent her upper half over the smooth obsidian table, forcing her to plant both of her soapy, dripping hands flat onto the stone to catch her balance.

"Hey!" Ren gasped, her eyes going wide.

Without a second of hesitation, Syris grabbed the hem of her short, emerald silk dress and aggressively yanked it all the way up to her waist. The cool, damp morning air of the scullery instantly hit her bare ass and thighs.

"Wait, wait!" Ren gasped, dropping her sponge. Her face instantly flushed a brilliant red. She weakly tried to fight against his iron grip, one soapy hand frantically reaching back to blindly tug the silk of her dress back down over her exposed cheeks. "Syris, what are you doing?! Not here!"

"It doesn’t matter who sees," Syris stated arrogantly, swatting her hand away from the dress. "What they will see is their King claiming what is his."

"No, Syris, seriously!" Ren pleaded, squirming against the table. "I need to finish cleaning!"

"You can continue cleaning," Syris countered smoothly, completely unbothered by her frantic protests. "This is the only way we can both get what we want at the same time."

And with that Syris dropped to his knees. He unceremoniously buried his face directly between her parted, shivering thighs.

"Ah!" Ren shrieked.

Syris didn’t waste any time. He parted her soft, pink folds with his thumbs, fully exposing her slick, swollen entrance to the cool air. Then, his long, wet, forked tongue darted out.

The sensation was absolutely mind-melting. Because his tongue was bifurcated, the two incredibly dextrous, independent tips acted like a pair of wet, skilled fingers. One tip of his tongue relentlessly flicked and swirled directly over the hard, throbbing pearl of her clit, while the other tip slid deep inside her dripping wet hole, lapping up the sweet juices that were already beginning to pour from her.

"Oh my god," Ren whimpered, her legs instantly turning to jelly.

She slumped heavily against the table, her soapy hands gripping the slick stone edges to keep from collapsing completely onto the floor.

Syris enthusiastically devoured her cunt, the loud, wet, obscene sounds of his mouth echoing through the empty kitchen. He sucked on her swollen clit, using the rougher texture of his tongue to create an agonizing, blistering friction that sent violent jolts of electricity shooting straight up her spine.

"Keep scrubbing," Syris mumbled darkly against her soaking wet folds, his hot breath fanning across her most sensitive flesh. "You have a lot of pots left, little chef."

Ren let out a high-pitched, delirious sob. How in the hell was she supposed to focus on cleaning when her soul was being sucked right out of her from between her legs?!

Nonetheless, determined not to let him win this ridiculous game of willpower, Ren blindly reached forward with a trembling hand. She grabbed a wooden plate and weakly rubbed the soapy sponge over it.

It was a pathetic disaster. Her eyes kept rolling into the back of her head, fluttering shut in pleasure. She dragged the sponge uselessly in circles, missing the baked-on garlic completely, her hips bucking involuntarily against his face.

"Mmm..." Ren moaned loudly, her voice echoing over the stone walls. She dropped the wooden plate back into the suds with a splash.

Syris was relentless. He pushed his face deeper between her thighs, his nose pressing firmly against her cleft. He began to aggressively suck the wet, sensitive flesh of her labia into his mouth, biting down lightly with his fangs before soothing the sting with broad, flat laps of his tongue. He slurped her juices like a starving man finding an oasis in the desert.

The overwhelming, dual stimulation of his forked tongue was completely overloading her nervous system. Ren couldn’t hold back her moans anymore. She shamelessly whined and cried out, her body trembling over the dirty dishes.

"Syris..." Ren panted, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the wet table tighter.

She abandoned the dishes entirely. Her focus replaced by an all-consuming, desperate need to climax. Ren pushed her hips backward, rubbing her swollen, aching clit directly and forcefully against his hot, wet mouth, desperately chasing her orgasm.

She was right on the edge. The pressure in her lower belly was building into a magnificent, explosive supernova.

"I’m going to—!" Ren sobbed, her toes curling. "Syris, I’m cumming!"

The second she said it, Syris pulled his mouth away.

The sudden loss of his hot tongue and the intense friction was agonizing. Ren let out a loud, pathetic whine of pure frustration, her hips bucking empty air as she desperately chased his mouth.

Behind her, she heard the soft thud of fabric hitting the stone floor. Syris had dropped his snakeskin robe.

Before Ren could even catch her breath, Syris stepped flush against her back. He grabbed her right thigh, hoisting her leg high into the air and firmly hooking her knee right over his muscular forearm.

Ren was pressed flat against the cold table, her chest heaving as she breathed heavily through her mouth. Her heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against the stone.

Syris pressed his body into her. With her leg hoisted high, her dripping, throbbing entrance was completely exposed to him. He slowly, deliberately rubbed the thick, blunt head of one of his hemipenes directly against her wet slit.

Ren let out a broken, needy whimper, her inner walls clenching in anticipation. She was so wet, so incredibly ready for him.

Syris leaned down, his wet lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

"I promise I will be quick," Syris whispered darkly.