QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL)

Chapter 449: Elara

The fog swirls around our bodies, a silver churning sea that illuminates every desperate line of our forms.

I lean down, my hair falling around our faces, creating a private world. I claim her mouth—a deep, bruising kiss that tastes of her and of my own desperate need. I can feel the hard, alien length of her pressed against my stomach, a hot brand against my skin. It is not enough.

I need it inside me.

I hold her neck and kiss her, and she moans, before I pull back.

I take her in my hand, guiding the strange, arrow-tipped head to my entrance. I am so wet, so ready, that it slides through my folds effortlessly, bumping my clit with every movement. I shudder—a full-body tremor of pure anticipation.

I look at her and find her eyes sparkling. They match the light around us.

"Enjoying the view?"

"Definitely, beloved."

I hold her gaze as I begin to sink down, as I finally, finally take her inside.

The first breach is a shock. The arrowhead tip presses past my entrance, a piercing, perfect stretch. I gasp, my head falling back for a moment before I force it up again, refusing to break our connection.

I see a dark liquid come from her nose.

I freeze.

"Daphne."

She blinks.

"What?"

I touch her upper lip.

"You are bleeding."

She touches her nose. She looks at her fingers. They are red.

"Oh," she says.

"Oh?"

I stare at her.

"I am too much for you?"

She wipes her nose with the back of her hand.

"Big bad panther cannot handle a little stimulation?" I tease her.

"I am not ashamed." She looks at me. "Look at you. You are like some sort of seductive goddess."

I laugh.

But I do not laugh long, because her tail wraps around my waist, up my torso, up to my chest.

The soft fur brushes against my hyper-sensitive nipples, and the sensation is a direct line to the throbbing heat between my legs.

"You are cheating," I breathe, my hips giving an involuntary roll, taking her deeper inside me.

The ridges drag against my inner walls, and I moan, my head falling forward.

"And you are a goddess who forgot she was impaled," she purrs, her voice a low, rumbling sound that is pure panther.

The tail tightens its grip around my ribs, a cage of warm fur and undeniable strength. Her hands, which had been gripping my hips, now slide low on my thigh, pricking the skin slightly.

I want to fall and let her dominate, but not yet. I want to challenge her first. I am never willingly submissive.

I am her equal. Her mate.

I lean forward, my own claws extending, and I score them lightly down her biceps—not to harm, but to mark. To remind her.

Her eyes turn golden. Panther golden. She likes it. But she blinks, and her eyes are back to normal.

I like it when she loses control.

I pull away my hands, slide them up my waist, cup my breast, and run a finger through my hair. I smile at her.

I get the reaction I wanted.

"Is this what you wanted, little wolf?" she taunts, her hips bucking up in a sharp, sudden thrust.

The movement spears me on that strange, wonderful length. The arrowhead head kisses my cervix, and the ridges pulse with a life of their own. I cry out—a raw, ragged sound swallowed by the swirling fog.

My inner walls clench around her, a desperate, involuntary spasm of pleasure.My thighs scrape against the tree bark, but I cannot register the pain.

I hold my breasts.

"Nothing little about me at all," I say, taunting her, lifting myself up until only the tip remains inside me, then slamming down, taking every ridge, every inch.

Her hands grip my waist, claws now sinking in just enough to hold me, to guide my movements. Her tail is still wrapped around my chest, a constant, teasing pressure on my nipples.

With every downward slam, my breasts rub against the fur—a delicious friction that adds to the overwhelming sensory overload.

I love it so much.

Her eyes are golden again.

I love it when she does this—she gets so excited she can barely control herself. Usually her fingers set a punishing rhythm, but not today. I should have asked for this earlier.

Not that I do not love her fingers. They are so slender, so long, and scratch the back of my mind. But right now, I feel like I am being wrung inside out.

She growls. It is a low, hungry sound.

"Now," she says.

She flips us.

I am on my back.

She is above me.

Her tail unwraps from my chest. Her hands grip my hips. She drives into me, deep and relentless.

Her tail unwraps from my chest. Her hands grip my hips. She drives into me, deep and relentless.

I cry out.

"Shall we test how good a wolf’s healing is?" she asks.

I nod—or answer, I do not know. Every movement feels like I do not know.

She pulls my legs wider, changing the angle of my penetration. The new position has her rubbing directly against that bundle of nerves inside me with every thrust.

I scream.

It is a wolf’s howl,full-throated and wild. I am sure everyone has heard me, but I cannot bring myself to care.

Daphne does not pause. She slams into me harder, pistoning deep, the arrowhead battering my inside with every brutal thrust. Her claws sink into my hips, pricking skin, drawing thin beads of blood that my healing already starts to close.

Her tail lashes around my thigh, yanking my legs impossibly wider, the furred tip flicking over my clit in time with her hips.

Goddess, I will not survive this. I am going to die.

I feel my claws dig into the tree on my back and tear the wood into pieces. She pulls me against her, and I wrap my hands around her neck as she carries me.

Every downward slam makes my breasts bounce, nipples scraping her chest, the friction a constant tease that has me dripping around her.

I am drooling on her shoulder when I feel it.

Is that a knot?

I cannot physically handle any more stimulation. I try to move off her, but she has an iron grip around my back.

"I cannot—Daphne—please," I beg her.

I know she will not stop. But I still try to escape.

"Take it, beloved," she says, her voice low and steady. "All of it. This is what you asked for."

She does not ease up. Each thrust is shorter, more powerful, the knot inflating rapidly now. The burn is exquisite, my body yielding because I am wolf and I heal and I want this.

With a final, savage snap of her hips, she forces the full knot past my entrance.

The stretch is immense. The knot balloons further, filling me completely, pressing hard against that bundle of nerves, the ridges pulsing like a living thing.

I cannot do it.

I bite her shoulder hard. Blood fills my mouth. In the back of my head, I can tell it is pretty deep.

I cannot control myself.

Is that pee? Did I just pee?

Surely not.

I am alive?

I do not know.

What just happened?

It all turns black.

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