MTLNOVEL Chapter 39: Princess's Continued "Defeat"
"Ian, why aren't you saying anything?"
Morgan looked at the man who had weathered through many storms for her, questioning him with a hint of displeasure.
After all, her initial expectation was that after she said those words, Ian would show a flattered expression.
At the very least, he should have been surprised.
This current state of silence was as if he was saying, "I'm not interested."
"Don't you like this?" Morgan asked again.
"No." Ian quickly shook his head, "I just didn't expect you, Princess Morgan, would want to give me this surprise ahead of time."
"I thought you would only allow me to see you in your wedding dress on the wedding day."
"So my mind is in a mess right now, I don't know what to say to express my excitement to you."
"That's simple."
"Express it with actions."
Morgan's blue eyes fell on Ian, the sea-like depths filled with a flickering desire.
Her hands intertwined behind Ian's neck.
"I haven't forgotten about losing to you that day."
"I won't let you win and run away."
"I see, I understand, Princess Morgan."
[Morgan pulls you through the royal court's corridors in broad daylight.]
[Many maids cast regretful glances at you—after all, if your wife is Morgan, there will be absolutely no chance for them.]
[Morgan is secretly pleased, but on the surface, she maintains a cold demeanor, as if marrying you is not a happy occasion.]
[You know this, so you very cooperatively put on a humble appearance.]
[You maintain this state and enter the room together.]
"Did you see those people's eyes?" Morgan sat on the edge of the bed.
"It's obvious they'll have ideas about you in the future, I'm going to have them all hanged."
"Let's choose tomorrow."
"There's no need, Princess." Ian dissuaded her, "This is not the time for such a large-scale disturbance."
"Besides—"
"I don't care about their eyes at all, no matter how sad they are, it has nothing to do with me."
"Is that so?"
Morgan looked at the loyal Ian with a subtle expression.
She sat quietly on the edge of the bed, her slender and long jade feet gently peeking out from under her royal dress, their surface as white as snow.
"Then I'll barely believe your explanation."
"Now, help me put on my wedding dress."
"Yes, I understand, Princess Morgan."
[You and Morgan stand in front of the mirror.]
[You embrace her waist, savoring the fragrance on her body.]
[Her room is filled with the roses you sent.]
[But you feel that those fragrances are insignificant compared to her.]
"Princess Morgan, forgive my boldness."
After saying this, Ian's hands moved from her waist, beginning to explore the princess's exquisite figure.
The soft, fine fabric began to rub against her skin, making rustling sounds that were strangely arousing.
The princess stood gracefully in front of the mirror, her feet surrounded by the most magnificent garments in Camelot, forming a wreath-like circle.
Morgan never lost her beauty, especially in these private moments.
Her collarbone was clearly defined, the slight indentations like a clear lake in a forest, reflecting her noble origins.
Her breasts flowed naturally and abundantly, perfectly transitioning into an alluring curve.
The pride of the Princess of Britain was fully displayed at this moment, a beauty of the body that was unmatched by any of her peers.
Her slender waist was taut and without any excess fat, her skin slightly contracted, outlining a small, oval navel.
Further down, it was as white as ever, perhaps this was what it meant to be flawless.
Her feet stood on the impeccably clean floor of the room, yet they seemed even cleaner.
Morgan reached for Ian's hand, her fingers gently stroking his, her tone with a hint of elusive charm.
"Ian, am I beautiful?"
"You are too beautiful, Princess Morgan." Ian lowered his head, resting it on Morgan's shoulder, taking a deep breath.
"You are so beautiful that I wonder if I'm dreaming."
"Then prove it's not a dream."
Morgan breathed softly into Ian's ear.
"Ian, let's have another contest, prove that you have the same vigor while standing."
"Understood, Princess Morgan."
Knights are never unarmed.
They always have their weapons.
Ian removed his pants to take out his so called weapon.
It was standing proudly as if declaring it would ascend to the heavens.
So it did..
It entered through the gate of heaven.
Morgan moaned and ordered, "Ian hug me...kiss me~." She was especially demanding today maybe because of the wedding.
Although Morgan acts like she doesn't care she is actually very excited for her marriage with ian.
In the mirror...
Morgan and Ian embraced, appearing very intimate.
Her eyes were closed, her hands firmly gripped by Ian on either side, her lips tightly pressed together with his own lips.
They occasionally stopped to take a few breaths and continued to battle with their tongue.
Sometimes Morgan changes her target with his neck and collarbone leaving them with clear teeth marks.
Soon her heels had left the ground, only her toes struggling.
"Princess Morgan, your voice is very beautiful, perhaps now is the best time to sing."
"Shut up, knight, it's not your turn to give a victory speech."
"I'll defeat you before you defeat me."
"Is that so.." Ian didn't say anything afterwards.
But his movements increased to another level.
It was like the speed of professional worker.
Morgan couldn't utter word.
"Ahnn~~"
"Ahnnhn~~"
"Ian~Ahnn~~"
"I-ahnnn~"
Leaving only incomprehensible moans.
[As it turns out, Morgan overestimated herself in this regard.]
[When Ian got serious, he was far less yielding than usual.]
[She realized she had raised a terrifying beast.]
Soon morgan reached her limits.she doesn't remember how many times she cummed from his brutal treatment of her insides.
[She lost again.]
"Princess I am close". Fortunately she heard Ian's words signifying the end of her shameful loss.
[And she lost thoroughly.]
With a grunt Ian emptied his load inside her. It overflowed her insides some dirtying the floor.
[The morning dew of Britain dripped down the princess's long legs onto the floor.]
....
....
The Second Law of Knighthood: When Morgan wants to win, you better think about how to lose in a way that pleases her.
"Ian, you must be very happy to win against me?"
"I'm not happy."
"Then will you dare to win next time?"
"I won't dare."
"Very good, then I'll reward you with some more time to think."
Morgan, sitting naked on Ian's back while he held a push-up position, said with a displeased expression.
"Ian, you just had to win against me in this."
"You won't be seeing the wedding dress today."
"But Princess Morgan, this concerns a man's most basic dignity."
"I don't want to hear that." Morgan pulled Ian's ear.
"Is it a problem that I just want to win against you in these things?"
"Princess Morgan, no problem."
Seeing Ian's submissive appearance, Morgan finally let go of his ear.
And she thought of something.
"Ian, I have an idea now."
"Please speak, Princess Morgan."
"It's..."
Morgan used her finger to write her name on Ian's back.
She seemed a little uneasy and confused about what she was about to say. But in the end, she said it seriously.
"I want to write a letter to Father."
"Tell him you're my husband now."