Vesperia blurred through the air, breaking the sound barrier to catch him before he could hit the jagged rock.
She scooped him securely against her chest, her arms wrapping around his battered torso.
Looking down, she found his half-lidded violet eyes burning right back into hers, clouded with fatigue, yet still radiating the dark, predatory hunger of a hunter locking onto its next prize.
A wicked, breathless smirk curled Vesperia’s lips.
"I’m your prey now, little panther?" she chuckled softly.
With a flick of her fingers, she produced a vial of shimmering crimson restorative elixir.
Popping the wax seal with her thumb, she tipped the vial back and emptied the potent liquid entirely into her own mouth.
Before Azriel could part his lips to speak, Vesperia cupped his jaw firmly, leaned down, and sealed her mouth over his in a deep, forceful kiss.
Parting his lips with her tongue, she transferred the warm, glowing draught directly down his throat.
The potent, sweet essence of the elixir mingled with the intoxicating, spirit-numbing taste of his innate Ambrosia trait, turning the medicinal transfer into a scorching, ravenous embrace.
Hssssss—!
The restorative fluid exploded through Azriel’s meridians like liquid fire.
White, soothing vapor vented from his pores as the fractured bone in his wrist snapped smoothly back into place.
Torn muscle fibers knitted together across his chest and shoulder, sealing the open lacerations into faint lines and replenishing his depleted vitality in a matter of seconds.
Azriel’s physical fatigue evaporated, but the heady rush of bloodlust and the lingering embers of Ardor’s Ignition left his mind consumed by raw instinct, instinct of his past life, of the playboy he was.
Locking onto the molten gold of her eyes, Azriel surged upward, reversing their positions with sudden, unyielding force.
Without his conscious command, the seal on his bloodline fractured in the heat of the moment.
The suppression dampening his Divine Charmer passive shattered completely, causing his hidden Charm stat to violently spike back to its ungodly, celestial threshold of 1,000.
An ethereal, mesmerizing radiance seemed to bleed into his violet eyes, casting an otherworldly, hypnotic aura around his chiseled features.
Looking up at the divine predator looming over her, Vesperia felt every ounce of her ancient pride crumble into utter helplessness.
Until this very second, the Overlord matriarch had viewed him as a prize to possess, a man to bend to her will.
But beneath the overwhelming, soul-crushing weight of his unrestrained divinity, that predatory urge dissolved into an all-consuming need to surrender completely.
She no longer wanted to claim him, she desperately, hopelessly wanted to belong to him.
Driving her back against the thick trunk of the obsidian willow, Azriel pinned her flush against the bark with his body, burying his hand in her hair as he deepened the kiss with fierce, untamed hunger.
Under normal circumstances, asserting absolute control over an Overlord-tier ancestor of the Bastati would have bordered on suicidal madness.
Yet as his hand rose to grip her throat, applying a firm, possessive pressure that demanded total surrender, Vesperia offered no resistance.
Memories of the nights she had spent fingering herself in the adjacent chambers, listening to the moans of Rosalind, flashed through her mind.
She had always fingered whenever they fucked in the other room but one night, unable to stop herself, she had looked.
What she saw had bewildered her completely.
Rosalind, her daughter, the Crimson Duchess of East, the woman who had ruled their territory with a composure that had never once cracked in Vesperia’s memory, had looked utterly, completely undone.
Vesperia had gone back to her room.
She had not slept and fingered herself all night.
She had understood, lying in the dark with her pulse uncharacteristically loud in her own ears, that she wanted the same thing.
She had centuries of people treating her with reverence.
But now she wanted someone to push her against a tree and take charge.
She wanted to feel the specific, unfamiliar sensation that her daughter was feeling, she was curious about it.
And so when Azriel’s hand closed around her throat, Vesperia did not move to stop him, she looked at his divine face and let him take the lead.
Azriel was in no state of mind to register the barrage of chat prompts flickering in the corner of his vision. Every ounce of his focus was locked onto the woman pinned beneath his grasp.
His free hand moved downward, gripping her hip and pulling her flush against him with bruising intensity. He maintained the kiss, deepening it relentlessly as a breathless moan caught in her throat.
With a sharp, sudden motion, his hand landed firmly against her rear, the sharp impact snapping through the humid air of the cavern.
Vesperia gasped into his mouth, her nails sinking deep into his shoulders as a tremor coursed straight down her spine.
Breathing heavily against his lips, she flicked her wrist toward the clearing.
Fwoosh.
Spatial energy rippled across the stone shelf, and an ornate, broad bed carved of smooth white marble and lined with thick furs materialized out of thin air, completely out of place against the jagged, blood-stained ravine.
"Let’s move this..." she murmured, her smoky voice rough with anticipation.
Azriel didn’t bother using words.
Locking his hands firmly beneath her ass, he hoisted her up against his chest in a single, effortless motion.
Carrying her across the few paces to the clearing, he dropped her onto the furs, following her down immediately to eliminate any chance of retreat.
Azriel tore the last strips of his ruined combat vest away, muscles flexing under sweat-slick skin.
Vesperia’s golden feline pupils widened as they dropped lower, locking on the thick, veined cock jutting toward her.
It twitched, heavy and proud, and her throat worked in a visible swallow.
She remembered how that same shaft had hammered her daughter’s cunt until the girl screamed all night.
Azriel quickly reached down and took hold of the fastenings of her reinforced leather armor, tearing them aside with unyielding force.
Vesperia didn’t lift a finger to stop him, her golden feline pupils dilating into absolute darkness as she completely yielded to his overwhelming momentum.
Her massive, heavy breasts spilled free.
They sagged under their own weight, the skin soft and warm, nipples a darker, dusky pink, thick, prominent buds that looked obscene against the pale flesh.
Azriel’s cock jerked again at the sight.
He reached down, palms cupping the heavy undersides, lifting and squeezing until the flesh bulged between his fingers.
Then he pinched both nipples hard, rolling them, tugging until Vesperia’s back arched and a loud, needy moan tore from her throat.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh"
She liked it.
The sound made that clear.
He climbed over her, straddling her chest so his cock rested on her tits. The heat of it burned against her skin.
He leaned down, voice low and rough.
"Stick your tongue out."
Azriel’s violet eyes burned like twin nebulae, pulling Vesperia deeper into their swirling depths.
Her golden feline pupils flared once, then softened, melting into a hazy, glassy sheen as she slowly extended her tongue.
Thick strands of saliva clung to the wet muscle, dripping from the tip in slow, glistening threads that trailed down her chin.
He studied her face, lust clouding his thoughts so completely that he never registered the absurdity of commanding an overlord and watching her obey without hesitation.
His playboy grin widened, sharp and predatory, as he reached out and pinched her tongue between two fingers.
He shoved them deeper, sliding over the slick surface, curling and stroking the sensitive muscle while his other hand cupped one heavy breast.
"Want this cock down your throat? You horny fucking whore, seducing your own daughter’s lover. No shame at all."
Vesperia groaned around his fingers, the sound vibrating against his skin.
She sucked greedily, tongue swirling between his digits as fresh heat pooled between her thighs.
She knew the overuse of skills and his high lust had loosened his tongue, he would never voice these thoughts out when he was sober.
But the raw truth in them made her cunt clench harder.
He pulled his fingers free with a wet pop, then slapped the heavy weight of her breast, watching the flesh ripple.
"You like your daughter’s man groping these fat tits?" Another sharp slap landed, followed by a firm pinch of her thick, dusky-pink nipple.
"Yes," she breathed, voice husky and trembling.
"I like it. I wanted you first—I wanted you to be mine. But now..." She gasped as he twisted the sensitive bud.
"Now I want to be yours."
Azriel’s grin turned feral.
"That so?"
"Yesssssss," she hissed as he pinched harder.
He seized her tongue again, stretching it out farther, then shifted forward until his cock loomed directly above her face.
The thick shaft pulsed, veins standing out along its length, the head glistening with precum.
The rich, heady scent of ambrosia washed over her, making her mouth water.
He gripped the base and slapped the heavy meat onto her outstretched tongue, then across both cheeks, leaving wet, sticky trails.
"You want this fat cock down your throat?" he taunted, slapping it against her tongue again.
"The same one that wrecked your daughter’s pussy?"
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