Chapter 110: Fall Apart For Me...
"That’s it," Zen’s voice echoed directly inside her mind, sounding like a dark, commanding purr. "Fall apart for me, Lyra."
That mental command was the final, devastating push she needed.
Lyra’s violet eyes rolled completely back in her head. A beautiful, broken cry tore from her throat as an earth-shattering climax ripped through her body.
Her pussy clamped down incredibly hard around his thick fingers, pulsing and milking him with desperate, rhythmic squeezes.
Wave after wave of blinding pleasure crashed over her. Her thighs shook violently around his head as her hips bucked and twitched uncontrollably. She arched her back so sharply off the table that she looked like a drawn bow, crying out his name again and again in raw, shattered moans.
The sweet, heavy taste of her release flooded Zen’s mouth in hot, slick pulses. At the same time, the sheer force of her euphoria poured straight into his mind through their metal connection... a wild rush of pure violet Aether mixed with absolute, mind-melting bliss.
Zen took everything without pulling away. He kept his hot mouth sealed firmly against her spasming pussy, drinking every drop while his tongue continued to stroke her oversensitive clit with slow, soothing licks.
He slid his fingers in and out of her with gentle, agonizingly deep strokes, drawing out every last tremor of her orgasm.
Lyra slowly collapsed back onto the cool obsidian table, boneless and trembling. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths. A fine sheen of sweat glistened across her pale skin.
Her mind was beautifully blank... completely empty of all her usual calculations and schemes. For the first time in centuries, the supreme Manipulator was utterly undone, floating in perfect, euphoric surrender.
Zen pulled back just enough to admire his handiwork. He rested his large hands on her soft, pale thighs, his thumbs brushing lightly over the incredibly sensitive skin of her inner legs, which were still trembling.
He looked down at her completely wrecked state... her flushed skin, heaving chest, and glassy violet eyes... and let out a heavy, satisfied breath.
Lyra’s chest heaved with every breath she took, her mind still floating in the hazy, euphoric aftershocks of her intense orgasm. But Zen wasn’t even close to being done with her. He was just getting started.
He stepped perfectly between her widely spread legs, towering over her. His cock was rock-hard and throbbing with a painful ache, already slick and gleaming with her sweet saliva and his own leaking precum.
The sheer size of him looked almost huge against her smaller opening.
He reached down and gripped his thick length. Instead of plunging right in, he guided the blunt, flushed head down to her soaking, swollen entrance and just held it there.
Lyra’s violet eyes fluttered open. A breathless, needy gasp escaped her lips the second she felt the burning heat of his cockhead pressing against her slick, swollen folds. She instinctively arched her hips up, trying to take him inside, but Zen held his ground, denying her.
He dragged the thick head slowly up her slick slit, coating himself in her fresh arousal, teasing her sensitive clit with every pass.
"Ah! Zen..." Lyra whimpered, her body trembling violently under the tease.
Her bound hands pulled frantically against the crackling indigo restraints pinning her wrists above her head. But the heavy magical bands didn’t budge a single inch.
Her instinct was to grab his shoulders, to claw at his back, and to drag him deep inside her empty, aching core, but she was completely immobilised. She was forced to just lie there and take whatever he decided to give her.
"You want it, Lyra?" Zen murmured, his voice dropping into a dark, gravelly rumble that sent a fresh wave of heat straight down to her pussy.
"Please," she begged, abandoning every shred of her pride. "Emperor, please. Fill me."
Zen didn’t give her another second to breathe.
He gripped her soft hips firmly in his large hands, holding her completely still against the cold table. Then drove his weight forward, burying himself inside her tight, scalding wetness with one smooth, impossibly deep thrust.
"Fuuuuucccckkkkkkk!" Lyra screamed, her back arching sharply off the obsidian table.
The stretch was intense. Even though she was dripping wet and her muscles were relaxed from her recent climax, the sheer size of his thick cock stretched her inner walls beautifully, filling her completely.
It was a perfect, friction-heavy fit.
Zen threw his head back and let out a deep, guttural groan as her hot, slick pussy instantly clamped down tight around the entire length of his shaft like a vice, pulsing and fluttering wildly.
"Fuck... so tight," he growled under his breath.
The sensation was mind-blowing. The chaotic, burning heat of his monster cores collided violently with her freezing Aether magic, sending a literal shockwave of electricity through both of their bodies.
"Look at me," Zen commanded, his voice dark and heavy with lust.
Lyra forced her glassy, tear-filled eyes open and locked onto his intense gaze.
Through their mental bridge, Zen didn’t just let her feel the physical pleasure... he flooded her entire consciousness with the heavy, triumphant, possessive thrill of completely claiming her. He made sure she felt exactly how thoroughly he owned her in this moment.
Then he started to move.
He pulled back slowly, dragging his thick girth almost all the way out of her tight grip until only the swollen head remained inside her, letting her feel the aching emptiness for a heartbeat.
Then he slammed his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt with a loud, wet smack of skin on skin. The force of it made her breasts bounce and drew another broken cry from her throat.
He set a brutal, relentless rhythm. Pulling back to tease her, then driving in so deep he bumped against her cervix.
Every powerful thrust stretched her open wider, dragging along every sensitive nerve inside her. Every time he pulled back, her slick walls clung to him greedily, trying to keep him deep.
The wet, filthy sounds of their bodies meeting filled the tent... skin slapping against skin, her soaked pussy squelching around his thick cock with every stroke.
"Zen... ah!!!! Please! Yes!" Lyra sobbed uncontrollably, her voice cracking with overwhelming pleasure.
The chaotic heat of his burning core clashed perfectly with her freezing Aether magic. Every deep thrust sent sparks of electricity racing through her veins. Because her hands were tied, she had no way to ground herself.
She was entirely at his mercy, forced to feel every single devastating inch as he pounded into her ruthlessly.
He angled his hips and started hitting that perfect, sensitive spot deep inside her with every stroke. The pleasure built fast and brutally. Lyra’s head tossed from side to side, silver hair wild across the dark table.
Her full breasts bounced with every impact, and her thighs shook around his waist.
"I’m yours," she cried out wildly, completely lost. "I’m yours, Emperor! Only yours!"
"Mine," Zen growled as his grip on her hips tightened. He fucked her harder, deeper, driving her right back to the edge with frightening speed. The combination of his physical domination and the mental pressure flooding her mind was too much.
With a sharp, breathless shriek, Lyra shattered all over again. A devastating climax ripped right through her body
Her inner walls spasmed violently around his cock, clamping down and milking his cock with crushing, rhythmic squeezes. Her entire body convulsed beneath him. Wave after wave of blinding pleasure tore through her as she came hard, soaking his shaft and dripping down onto the table.
Zen had to grind his teeth and clench his jaw as he fought the urge to spill inside her right then. He wanted to draw this out. He wanted to ruin her completely. He kept thrusting through her orgasm, drawing out every last tremor until she was a sobbing, trembling mess beneath him.
Only when she started to come down from her high did he finally slow down. With a single thought, the crackling indigo bands around her wrists dissolved into nothing.
The second the invisible restraints vanished from her wrists, Lyra didn’t hesitate. She practically launched herself off the cold obsidian table, throwing her upper body directly at him.
Her pale, shaking arms wrapped desperately around his thick neck. She buried her flushed, tear-stained face deep into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his dark, intoxicating scent.
She was clinging to him like a drowning woman. Her cool breasts crushed flat against his burning chest. After being pinned and dominated for so long, finally being able to hold him sent a fresh, blinding wave of need straight to her dripping core.
Zen didn’t miss a single beat. He slid his large, rough hands down to her waist, gripping her soft hips firmly. With a sudden, effortless flex of his immense strength, he hoisted her completely off the table.