Fate/Ultimate Antagonist

[92] Look, But Don't Eat

Sitting in the moonlight in the palace.

The purple-haired and lush-bodied witch was combing her hair in front of the mirror.

Staring at the reflection of the woman in the mirror, Medea blushed and caressed her face, which was gradually becoming more and more mature and feminine.

In just over three months, she had grown rapidly from a young young girl to a witch who gradually became fuller and voluptuous, under the continuous attention of Kratos, it was inevitable that she would grow well in parts.

Her palms caressed her own breasts, and then lightly pressed a touch on her nipples with her fingertips, and with that kind of gentle touch, even though it was her own body, made her feel a thrilling warmth.

Unable to resist, she grasped and squeezed her own breasts, and on the witch's delicate face, she couldn't help but levitate with a few blushing drunken touches.

Recalling the enjoyment made her think that His Highness' hands seemed to have some kind of magic...

She actually rubbed it to some extent.

The skirt and robe given to her by her teacher Hecate were draped over her body, and the folds of the thin fabric outlined the fullness and smoothness of Medea's posture. Her curves were full and graceful.

Her long, thin, purple-colored hair fell at the back of her head, and as she wore it, her hair was slightly visible as clear as the ocean, with a hint of blue.

Medea gently stroked her hair, revealing a slender and white neck, her sharp and well-defined collarbones, like undulating hills, and her gaze roamed further down the hill, which was a long and straight stretch of hills.

In the silence of her flushed face.

Those pair of hands she was intimately familiar with, which every night, tenderly and passionately, would gather and taste the offerings in her palm, gently reaching from behind to encircle the flowing locks of her.

"Aren't you doing a ponytail today?"

The clear voice of the young king floated into her ears.

Kratos leaned against Medea's ear, gazing at her alluring reflection in the mirror, her deep purple eyes shimmering in the moonlight.

"Tying it up in a high ponytail looks both elegant and cute..."

The young king's breath brushed softly against her earlobes, seeming to lightly tug at the strings of the witch's heart.

"...Your Highness."

The grown-up witch placed her rosy fingers on Kratos's hand, warming her palm with her own and pressing it against her cheek.

"Ive grown up. Tying a ponytail now would... make me seem too childish."

"Childish? I think it adds a youthful charm."

"Compared to... youthful charm, Your Highness seems to prefer maturity."

Blushing, Medea averted her gaze, uttering her words, eliciting a subtle smile from Kratos.

"Unlike Caenis and Atalanta, Your Highness, I don't have anything to offer..."

"It's alright..." Kratos caressed Medea's soft cheek, smiling, "My little witch is cute in her own way too."

"However you are, Medea, I like it."

As the words faded away.

In the depths of the chamber, shadows swayed slightly.

This ostentatious display of affection seemed to challenge a certain goddess's patience.

"Motherfucker! Did you bring me here just to watch you two being affectionate?!"