chapter 29 Don't

*** mature content***

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After the enchanting and lingering kiss, Prince Rogba leaned back slightly, their lips barely grazing. The steamy puffs of their breaths intertwined as her intoxicated eyes slowly opened. But before his radiant face could come into focus in her hazy vision, his tongue found its way back into her mouth. Another deep, impassioned kiss followed, raw and electrifying. He continued to explore, savor, and caress the depths of her mouth, as if he couldn't quench his thirst for her.

As he indulged in her lips, Arẹwa was overwhelmed by an indescribable pleasure, a sensation that threatened to consume her senses. A warmth, both fiery and sweet, started to swell within her chest, stomach, and between her thighs.

A gentle moan escaped her lips, and her trembling hands moved instinctively, resting delicately against his bare chest. A contented rumble emanated from Rogba's throat, and suddenly his mouth was on her jawline. He kissed and nibbled along her jaw, gradually tracing down the curve of her neck, tasting her as though she were something celestial. The pleasure was so intense that Arẹwa could only writhe in response.

The exquisite and fiery sensation coursing down her bosom intensified suddenly. When he sucked on the sensitive skin of her neck with fervor, she shivered, feeling as though electric currents were coursing through her entire body. Prince Rogba, unable to hold back any longer, slowly removed her dress, leaving her half-naked as they sank onto the bed.

A gasp escaped her lips, forming words that were half-moan, half-whimper, as her eyes caught the prominent outline of Prince Rogba's desire. "Ro… Rogba… wait… tradition..." She hesitated, knowing there was a customary practice for newlywed couples called the "virginity night" ritual. According to tradition, before the groom could consummate the marriage, a white handkerchief had to be prepared. This ritual, an essential part of their culture, required the presence of an elder from the groom's family outside the room.

After the groom deflowered his bride, he would present the blood-stained white handkerchief as proof of her virginity. Then, the elders would place the handkerchief in a covered bowl and carry it to the bride's family, who awaited the outcome. The young, mature ladies from the groom's family would sing "Collect our mother, great transition to motherhood," celebrating the bride's transition to wifehood.

The eldest woman from the bride's side, along with other witnesses, would be patiently waiting for the groom's elder to confirm the outcome. Upon inspecting the stained cloth in the bowl, the elder would exclaim, "Successful as a wife," a sentiment echoed by the other women. It was a moment of honor for the bride's family, and they would be showered with gifts from the groom's family for raising a faithful daughter. Conversely, if the outcome was different, it would bring shame to the bride's family.

Suddenly, Prince Rogba grew still and broke their connection with an unexpected abruptness, his comprehension evident. Arẹwa's instincts almost led to a protest escaping her throat as she experienced the sudden loss of his reassuring warmth and presence. She hadn't intended for him to halt their intimate moment. In fact, she yearned for more, her desire undeniable.

Even her own thought process surprised her, causing another gasp to escape her lips. Her eyes widened in shock as she looked at him.

Rogba's jaw muscles tensed and contracted as he took in her expression, yet he chose to remain silent. In the ensuing silence, the only sounds were her gentle breaths intertwining with his deep and rapid inhales and exhales.

He closed his eyes, seemingly grappling with potent emotions. After a brief moment, he composed himself, running his hand through his hair. His jaw gradually relaxed, and he spoke softly, his gaze remaining intense but now contained and restrained.

"Alright," he murmured in a low voice, his tone carefully measured. "Will you help me with this?" With those words, his significant bulge came into view. Arẹwa found herself held close to him, immobilized, as he guided her hand to touch him. Through her touch, she learned his desires, and Rogba moaned, biting his lip in pleasure until he found release.

Without warning, his lips crashed against hers once more, only to be pulled away abruptly. He turned his back to her, striding purposefully towards the bathroom. The door closed, severing her view of his captivating back. Finally free from her earlier paralysis, Arẹwa's senses started to return.

Her mind was a whirlwind, utterly disoriented and a touch bewildered. Gradually, she reconnected with her body and was surprised she didn't collapse into a boneless heap on the floor. She walked unsteadily towards the bed, running her palms over her still-flushed face. Her thoughts began to regain clarity, and she buried her face in the pillow.

Her lips retained a tingling sensation, and her nipples echoed the sensation. Almost absentmindedly, she touched them. Oh my! Realization dawned, and she gasped, promptly withdrawing her hand as if startled. Grabbing a glass of water, she gulped it down to regain composure.

Returning to the bed with a jump, she was wary that he might return, unsure of how to face him now. She was convinced her face still bore the hue of embarrassment.

As Rogba emerged from the bathroom, Arẹwa fled into it, overwhelmed with shyness and flushed cheeks. He couldn't help but chuckle at the situation.