Chapter 586: Succubus Incarnate (r-18)

She pulled away from his lap with a broken, shuddering gasp—her entire slim frame quaking so violently the pink teardrop pendant bounced between her collarbones like it was trying to escape her skin.

Her eyes—dark velvet rimmed in molten rose, glassy with tears of pure, filthy need—locked onto his as she rose on trembling legs. Thick, glossy strands of her arousal already webbed between her inner thighs, shining all the way down to her knees in slow, obscene rivulets.

"Phei..."

Her voice cracked like fine crystal. "I need you to

see

me. Every fucking inch. Look at what belongs to you... look at how

wet

your goddess is just from your touch..."

Her slender fingers caught the hem of the cream crop top. She dragged it upward—agonizingly slow—silk rasping over the high, proud swell of her breasts until the fabric snagged on her stiff, dark-rose nipples.

They

popped

free with a tiny bounce, already so swollen they throbbed visibly, flushed crimson from his earlier teasing. The top whispered over her head and dropped to the floor like shed sin.

Her bare tits—medium, impossibly pert, gravity-defying—rose and fell with every ragged pant. Areolas tight and puckered into perfect dusky circles, nipples standing out like aching little bullets, begging to be sucked raw.

Faint blue

veins

traced delicate rivers beneath the flawless cream skin, pulsing in time with her racing heart.

Next... gone was her skirt

She hooked her thumbs into the waistband—hips rolling in one slow, pornographic circle that made her ass cheeks flex and spread just enough to flash the slick, glistening cleft between them.

The tight cream fabric peeled downward—dragging over the dramatic flare of her hips, catching on the fullest, roundest part of her ass before sliding off her long legs in a soft heap.

Only the black lace

thong

remained—utterly drenched, sheer fabric molded to her cunt like liquid shadow.

The material was so

soaked

it clung transparently over the plump outer lips of her puffy and dark rose pussy and they parted just enough to show the slick blooming over the inner petals of her folds, it’s clit hood swollen fat and prominent, the tiny slit weeping thick, glossy strands that stretched and snapped with every tiny clench of her hips.

Her eyes never leaving his, she hooked one finger under the waistband and

peeled

the lace down.

The soaked fabric clung stubbornly—lips dragging wetly along it, leaving a thick, creamy film—until it finally tore free with a lewd, wet

schlick

.

A long,

silver rope

of arousal stretched from her engorged clit all the way to the discarded lace, snapping only when she stepped out. Fresh cream immediately welled at her entrance and dripped in slow, syrupy ropes onto the leather couch beneath her.

And there she sat—perched on the very edge now, legs spread shamelessly wide—

completely

fucking naked

.

Divine. Lethal. Sin incarnate.

Her midnight hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back in glossy black waves, framing razor-sharp cheekbones, full rose lips swollen and slick from his kisses, throat blooming with faint red hickeys like rose petals pressed into warm cream. Breasts high and proud, nipples rigid and begging.

Stomach flat as poured silk—tiny navel winking, divine V-cut framing her mound like sacred, obscene geometry. Hips exploding outward from that impossible waist, creating an hourglass ratio so lethal it should have been illegal.

Her ass: the two perky hemispheres were sitting high even while seated, the deep cleft between them shining with the thick trickle of her arousal that had already coated her tight pink asshole in glossy sheen.

Long, toned legs parted wide—inner thighs slick and trembling—exposing her ruined cunt in full: outer lips swollen and dark, inner petals blooming open like wet, dark-rose silk, clit standing rigid and pulsing visibly like a tiny heartbeat, entrance winking and weeping fresh cream in thick, continuous strands that puddled beneath her.

She was

ruinously

,

pornographically

naked.

Phei’s breath sawed out in harsh rasps, cock throbbing so viciously against denim the head had soaked through in a dark, wet circle. He dropped to his knees before her like a sinner before salvation.

"

Goddess...

"

The word was half growl, half prayer as he dove in to devour her, he started at her knees—soft, open-mouthed kisses pressed to the satin-smooth inner curve just above the joint.

Her skin was fever-hot, trembling violently under his lips. He sucked gently—tasting the faint salt of her flesh mixed with the thick, jasmine-sweet slick that had already dripped down in glossy trails.

"Phei...

fuck

... higher... kiss me higher...

taste

how wet you made me... please... worship your filthy goddess..."

He obeyed.

Lips

dragged

up the inside of one thigh—slow, wet, tongue flattening to lap up the thick, glossy rivulets of her arousal that coated her skin like warm honey. The taste exploded on his tongue—sweet, musky, addictive.

Her thighs quivered and parted wider on pure instinct, cunt clenching visibly, fresh cream welling at her entrance and dripping in slow, obscene ropes. He kissed the other thigh—matching path—leaving open-mouthed sucks that bloomed faint red marks, tongue dragging long, deliberate stripes through her slick.

Higher

to the tender crease where thigh met hip—soft, hypersensitive flesh that made her gasp and arch when his tongue traced the seam. He

sucked

there—hard enough to pull a sharp cry from her—then moved to the outer swell of her hips, teeth grazing the full, round flesh just enough to make her whimper and grind forward.

"More—please—higher—kiss my waist—my stomach—gods, Phei, I need your mouth all over me—lick me clean—taste how dripping I am for you—please—fuck—yes—"

He rose higher on his knees, hands sliding up the outsides of her trembling thighs to anchor her as his mouth found that devastating, god-carved dip of her waist.

He kissed the narrowest point—where his fingers could nearly meet around her—then followed the dramatic inward sweep upward, lips worshipping the soft skin over her ribs, the faint feminine definition of her obliques, every flawless inch of that flat, perfect stomach.

His tongue dipped into her navel—slow, wet swirl—and she

sobbed

his name, hips rolling in tiny, desperate circles. Her cunt clenched hard—audible

schlick

as fresh cream gushed out, dripping in thick strands onto the couch, coating her tight asshole in glossy shine.

"Phei—please—

don’t stop

—kiss me—suck me—worship your dripping little goddess—I’m yours—yours—please—taste me—claim me with your mouth—fuck—I’m gonna come just from your kisses—please—please—"

His

mouth

moved in slow, sinful reverence—never rushing, never touching her aching, weeping pussy—only the sacred, trembling lower half of her divine body: knees, inner thighs slick with her own cream, hips flexing under his lips, waist arching into his tongue, flat stomach quivering with every open-mouthed suck.

Each kiss left her shaking harder,

moaning

louder, begging filthier—her perfect, naked form arching and grinding like a living offering, cunt clenching and gushing in rhythmic pulses, asshole winking with every desperate roll of her hips.

And still—he held back.