Chapter 809 – [Lust ter Activation: 100%]
His mouth found hers, not gentle, not asking. It was a kiss of claiming, of possession. His tongue thrust into her mouth, mimicking the rhythm he was about to set between her legs.
He broke the kiss, panting, his forehead resting against hers.
"I’m going to f*ck you now, Sira. Hard."
"Do it," she whimpered, the words of surrender that was also a victory.
He guided himself to her entrance, the head of his cock nudging against her wet heat. Oh, it was delicious. The wetness. The warmth. The desperate way her body opened to him, even as her spirit fought.
The sigils on his skin blazed with a faint, inner light, the lines shifting and swirling as if alive. This was more than lust. This was sothing primal, sothing ancient. The need to mate, to possess, to leave a part of himself so deeply inside her that she would never again be entirely her own. That would be entirely his.
And he knew, with a certainty that shook him to his core, that she felt the sa. Pride. Her pride demanded she be conquered, not wooed. She wanted to be taken, to be claid, to be so thoroughly and completely owned that her very essence bore his imprint.
He pushed in, just an inch.
Sira gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. The stretch was exquisite, a sweet, sharp pleasure that bordered on pain. "Lux..."
"Shhh," he breathed, his hips stilling. He wanted to savor this. The mont before. The anticipation. The sheer, unadulterated promise of what was to co.
He looked down at her, at the way her lips were parted, at the flush on her cheeks, at the dark, hungry need in her eyes.
His system flared.
[Lust ter Activation: 100%]
His body responded, a fresh surge of heat and hardness flooding him.
But he didn’t move.
He waited.
Because he knew, with a predator’s instinct, that she would break first.
And she did.
With a soft cry, she bucked her hips, taking him deeper, her body begging for what he was withholding.
Lux chuckled, a low, rough sound of pure, masculine triumph. And then he gave her what she wanted.
He thrust into her, hard and deep, burying himself to the hilt.
The sensation was staggering.
It was a hocoming.
A collision.
A perfect, seamless union of two halves of the sa whole. The tight, wet heat of her enveloped him, a living, breathing sheath that was made for him, and him alone. He could feel her walls clenching around him, a frantic, desperate rhythm that matched the wild, beating of his own heart.
He pulled out, almost all the way, leaving her feeling empty and aching, before driving back in, harder this ti, deeper. He set a relentless, punishing pace, each thrust a claim, each withdrawal a tease that left her wanting more.
The room filled with the sounds of their coupling, the slap of skin against skin, the creak of the bed, the soft, breathless gasps and moans that spilled from her lips.
Sira t him thrust for thrust, her hips rising to et his, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper, demanding more. Her nails raked down his back, leaving fiery trails in their wake, a sweet, sharp pain that only fueled his hunger. She was a glorious, untad creature in his arms, all fire and pride and a desperate, aching need for him.
Lux’s mouth found hers again, a desperate, hungry clash of teeth and tongues. He tasted her, devoured her, drank down her cries of pleasure as if they were the finest wine. He wanted to consu her, to absorb her, to beco so intertwined with her that he would never again know where he ended and she began.
His hands were everywhere, tangling in her hair, cupping her face, tracing the curve of her spine, gripping her hips with a force that was sure to leave bruises. He wanted to mark her, to brand her as his, to leave a physical reminder of this mont, of this fierce, all-consuming love that burned between them.
He could feel her tightening around him, her body coiling like a spring, her movents becoming more frantic, more desperate. She was close. So close.
"Lux," she gasped, his na a broken prayer on her lips. "Oh, Lux..."
He knew what she needed. What she craved.
His thumb found her clit again, rubbing it in tight, firm circles, pushing her right to the edge and then holding her there, suspended in a state of exquisite, agonizing pleasure.
"Co for , Sira," he growled, the words a harsh, gravelly command. "Co for now."
And she did.
Her back arched, a beautiful, taut bow of pure sensation. Her head threw back, a silent scream tearing from her throat. Her inner walls clamped down around him, a series of rapid, pulsing spasms that milked him, pulling him deeper, demanding everything he had. The world dissolved into a blinding, white-hot flash of pleasure, a sensation that left her breathless and shaking.
He followed her over the edge a mont later, his own release a powerful, violent surge that ripped through him with the force of a tidal wave. He poured himself into her, a hot, thick flood of life and love and a possessive, primal claim that marked her as his from the inside out.
Lux didn’t move.
Not because he was done.
Because he wasn’t.
His breath steadied slowly, but his body... didn’t follow.
Still tense.
Still burning.
Still awake.
His eyes stayed on her, dark, unreadable, processing sothing deeper than instinct, sothing that didn’t fade with release.
Yeah.
He knew his body could go again.
That was normal.
Expected, even.
But this?
This wasn’t just hunger.
Wasn’t just Lust driving him.
There was sothing heavier beneath it, sothing that didn’t quiet down, didn’t resolve, didn’t finish.
His hand tightened slightly at her waist.
Not claiming.
Not demanding.
Just... holding.
Grounding.
"...Sira," he muttered low, almost to himself.
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