Chapter 109: My Turn...
Zen looked down at the brilliant, untouchable Goddess of the Aether Domain. She was completely undone beneath him. She was panting softly, her silver hair spread out in a wild, glowing halo across the dark stone.
"My turn," Zen murmured in a low, dark rumble that vibrated right into her bones.
He lifted his hand from her pinned wrists. But before Lyra could even think about moving her arms, a thick surge of his dark, crackling indigo aura flared to life. The heavy, suffocating mana wrapped perfectly around her wrists, forming tight, unbreakable bands of pure energy that locked her arms firmly to the obsidian table.
Lyra let out a startled little gasp.
She gave her bound wrists a useless tug, her pale skin straining against the dark indigo restraints. But the bands didn’t budge an inch. They were infinitely heavier than the gravity restraints she had used on him.
Zen leaned in close, his hot breath brushing right against her ear. "Insurance," he whispered.
He threw her own confident words right back at her, and it hit her like a physical blow.
A violent shiver of pure, submissive thrill raced down Lyra’s spine, and her violet eyes widened. She was completely hooked on his dominance.
The great Architect of the continent, the woman who had spent five hundred years pulling everyone’s strings, was now physically and mentally pinned to a table. And she loved it.
Zen didn’t rush; he had completely shattered her mental defences, and now he was going to take his time taking apart her body.
He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her slowly and deeply, like a conqueror claiming his territory. He mapped the inside of her mouth with his hot tongue, tasting her cool Aether and the lingering, salty heat of his own arousal.
Lyra tried to kiss him back with her usual grace, but she couldn’t keep up. Zen was setting the rhythm entirely.
Every time she tried to push back, he simply overwhelmed her, angling his head and taking deeper, more demanding possession of her mouth. He swallowed her soft, desperate moans, making her drink down the heavy taste of his dominance.
His free hand began to roam. He dragged his palm down the smooth curve of her neck, over her collarbone, and down to her waist.
His skin was still burning hot from the chaotic monster cores inside his chest, while her skin was naturally cool like the night air.
The contrast was electric. Everywhere he touched her, her muscles twitched and quivered under his fingers.
Zen trailed his kisses slowly down her jawline. He nipped at her chin before moving down to the incredibly sensitive skin of her neck. He found her wildly beating pulse and bit down softly, scraping his teeth over the delicate flesh.
Lyra let out a breathless whimper. Her back arched completely off the cold stone, pressing her soft curves closer to his burning heat.
"Emperor..." she gasped out. Her logical mind was turning entirely to static. The complicated magical formulas and calculations that usually filled her head were completely gone. All she could focus on was the heavy weight of him pressing her down.
Zen just hummed in response, his hot breath fanning over her collarbone. He trailed slow, open-mouthed kisses down the centre of her chest until he reached her full, pale breasts.
He cupped one heavy breast in his hand, squeezing the soft flesh and pushing it up toward his mouth. He didn’t taste her right away. Instead, he dragged his tongue in a slow, agonising circle right around the base of her tight, rosy nipple.
Lyra cried out. Her hips jerked upward instinctively, chasing the feeling. Her bound hands grabbed frantically at the indigo restraints holding her wrists above her head. She pulled against the magic, completely helpless. She needed him to take her, but he was making her wait.
Finally, Zen opened his mouth and took the hard peak inside.
He sucked firmly, drawing a high-pitched, needy moan from her lips. He swirled his tongue over the sensitive flesh, occasionally grazing it with his teeth just enough to make her gasp. The suction sent hot, heavy jolts of pleasure straight down to her dripping core.
The mental bridge between them was still wide open. And because of that intimate connection, every single spark of physical pleasure he gave her echoed right back through his mind. He could feel exactly how good it felt for her... he could feel her logic melting into pure, euphoric need.
He moved to her other breast, giving it the exact same dedicated attention. He sucked and bit at the swollen peak until it was a dark, flushed pink.
Lyra’s head tossed frantically from side to side on the table. She was completely melting. Her shameless moans bounced off the walls of her own sensory ward, filling the quiet space with the sounds of her surrender. She was soaking wet, her slick entrance throbbing with an empty, aching need.
When she was thoroughly flushed, panting, and gasping for air, Zen finally pulled away from her boobs.
He dragged his lips slowly down her ribcage, kissing the soft, flat plane of her stomach; his hot breath made her abdominal muscles twitch. He dipped his tongue briefly into her navel, earning another shaky sigh from her lips.
Then, he shifted his weight and settled himself right between her spread thighs.
He grabbed her soft hips in both hands, his fingers sinking into her cool flesh.
With one powerful pull, he dragged her forcefully down the obsidian table. The smooth stone slid against her back as he positioned her exactly where he wanted her, right at the edge, her hips perfectly lined up with his.
Her legs fell wide open for him without resistance. They parted beautifully, completely exposing her slick, swollen pussy. She was flushed a deep, needy pink, glistening with her own thick arousal. Shiny strands of her wetness coated her puffy folds, dripping slowly down toward the table.
Zen looked up, making eye contact with her. He wanted her to see exactly what he was about to do. He wanted the Goddess to watch the First Mortal Ruler drop to her level just to devour her.
Lyra’s breath hitched. Her chest heaved violently as she met his dark gaze.
Then, Zen lowered his head and pressed his hot mouth right against her dripping folds.
Lyra practically screamed. "Fuuuuuccccckkkkkk!"
The sudden heat of his tongue against her cool, soaked pussy was overwhelming. His skilled tongue parted her wet petals instantly, licking up every drop of her arousal. He tasted her thoroughly... the sweet, messy slickness she had made for him, dragging his tongue in one long, slow stroke from her entrance all the way up to her throbbing clit.
"Ah! Zen! Please...!" Lyra sobbed out.
Zen didn’t hold back; he sealed his lips around her swollen clit and sucked gently while his tongue flicked and swirled with devastating precision.
The contrast between his burning mouth and her icy Aether skin made every sensation sharper and more intense. Pleasure crashed through her in heavy waves.
Her thighs shook uncontrollably around his head; her back arched hard off the obsidian table as she tried to grind herself against his face.
Zen gripped her hips tighter, holding her in place so he could devour her properly. Wet, filthy sounds filled the tent as he licked and sucked at her dripping pussy like he was starving for her.
At the exact same time, he pushed two thick fingers deep inside her soaking entrance.
Lyra gasped sharply, her eyes flying wide open. The sudden stretch and fullness made her cry out.
He pumped his fingers in a slow, steady rhythm that matched the eager, relentless strokes of his tongue perfectly. With every thrust, he curled his fingers upward, stroking that sensitive spot deep inside her with devastating accuracy.
He was attacking her from every possible angle. His hot mouth sucked and flicked her swollen clit without mercy, while his thick fingers fucked her with perfect, knowing strokes.
The overwhelming pleasure crashed through her body in powerful waves. Her thighs trembled violently around his head. Her pussy clenched and fluttered around his fingers, gushing more of her slick arousal with every thrust.
The physical overload was completely overwhelming.
Through the open mana bridge, Zen flooded her mind with his dark, heavy presence. He made sure she felt how thoroughly he owned her in this moment. He pushed his dominant will into her mind, drowning out any lingering thoughts of control.
The great Architect, the woman who literally designed the fabric of reality, was reduced to a writhing, desperate mess who couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.
Her inner walls clenched violently around his moving fingers. Her sweet, intoxicating nectar soaked his chin and his lips. She tasted like starlight and raw, desperate need.
She was incredibly close. The tension in her body was winding up so tight she was practically vibrating on the table. Her bound hands were balled into tight fists, straining against the indigo aura.
Zen didn’t let up. He sucked harder on her clit, his fingers thrusting faster and deeper inside her slick heat.
"That’s it," Zen’s voice echoed directly inside her mind, sounding like a dark, commanding purr. "Fall apart for me, Lyra."