Chapter 487: Bad Seraphine—2
Her eyes went wide.
The taste. It was different. Before, his semen had been pleasant — she had enjoyed it, craved it even. But this... this was something else entirely. Like nectar. Rich, thick, infused with something that made her entire body hum with energy.
She felt it spreading through her. Warmth. Power. Her mana, which had been depleted from earlier exertions, was recovering at a visible rate. Faster than any potion. Faster than rest. The energy flowed through her veins like liquid light.
Her eyes brightened. Literally. A soft glow flickered in her amethyst irises as the mana surged through her system.
This is new.
She looked at his cock, still half-hard, still glistening. Then back at his face. A slow smile spread across her lips.
She had always enjoyed being intimate with him. Always wanted him. But there had been a small part of her that wondered if her constant desire was just... her. Just her being too horny, too needy, too obsessed with his body.
But this changed things.
This wasn’t just pleasure. This was beneficial. His semen now carried enough concentrated mana to significantly speed up her recovery. It wasn’t just desire driving her anymore — there was practical reason to want him. Often. Regularly.
Not that she needed more reasons. But having one that made logical sense? That she could point to without feeling like she was just being insatiable?
Perfect.
She licked her lips, still tasting him, still feeling his energy settling into her core, and looked up at him with renewed hunger — the kind that had nothing to do with obligation and everything to do with genuine, enthusiastic want.
"I’m going to need more of that," she said, her voice slightly hoarse but warm. "Regularly. For research purposes."
The smile she gave him was pure mischief wrapped in satisfaction as she whispered some details in his ear about her new findings.
Leon blinked. The statement hung in the air between them — something about his semen tasting different, about mana recovery. He processed it in that quiet, analytical way of his, filing the information away for later consideration.
"Hmm he said. That was it. Just a sound of mild acknowledgment. Then his mind moved on to more pressing matters.
Seraphine had already turned around on the bed, presenting herself to him on her hands and knees. She swayed her ass deliberately, provocatively, rubbing it against his still-hard cock. The cheeks pressed and slid against his length, her wetness leaving a slick trail on his skin.
That was all the invitation he needed.
His arm wrapped around her waist. In one smooth motion, he lifted her — legs locked in the crook of his arm, her back against his chest, her weight supported effortlessly by his strength. His cock, still thick and veiny and fully hard, found its target immediately. It slid into her pussy in a single fluid motion. Schlick.
AH—!
Her head fell back against his shoulder as he filled her completely, the angle different now, deeper, hitting spots that made her toes curl.
He carried her like that. Walked across the room with her impaled on his cock, her legs dangling, her body completely supported by him and the connection between them. Each step jostled her, made him shift inside her, sent small shocks of pleasure through both of them.
He stopped in front of the full-length mirror against the wall.
"Look," he said, his voice low in her ear.
She opened her eyes.
And she saw everything.
The mirror reflected them perfectly — her body wrapped in his arms, her legs spread wide, and his thick monster of a cock buried deep inside her pussy. She could see exactly where they joined, the way her lips stretched around his girth, the glistening wetness coating his shaft.
Her face flushed crimson. It looked so lewd. So obscene. So completely filthy.
And she loved it.
Because behind all of that, reflected in the mirror, she could see his face. His handsome face. Those intense eyes that she had fallen for so long ago. And in them, she didn’t see lust alone. She saw love. Deep, genuine, unwavering love for her, even as he fucked her standing up in front of a mirror.
He started moving.
SLAP... SLAP... SLAP...
His hips thrust upward into her, his arm holding her steady, his cock driving into her again and again. She watched it in the mirror — watched herself take him, watched his length disappear into her body over and over, watched her own breasts bounce with each impact.
Yes... yes... right there... LEON...
---
Outside, Ira had discovered something.
Her fingers were moving inside herself — schlick, schlick, schlick — when she realized that she could sense everything happening inside. Not just hear it. Feel it. Her senses, spread out like a net, gave her a complete picture. She knew exactly what position they were in. Exactly how deep he was inside her. Exactly how Seraphine’s body was responding.
She had already orgasmed once. Ah—hah—
She wanted to go in so badly. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to push open that door, to join them, to feel Leon inside her too.
But she didn’t. She knew. For now, she couldn’t. Seraphine’s time. Leon’s promise.
But soon. Soon she would do everything she had witnessed. Everything she had heard. Everything she had imagined while her fingers worked herself to climax against that cold stone wall.
This was exciting. She was learning. Storing every detail. Every sound. Every rhythm.
Her fingers kept moving. Schlick... schlick... schlick...
---
Inside the room, minutes turned to hours.
The sounds never stopped. Moans. Grunts. The wet slapping of flesh against flesh. Seraphine’s voice crying out Leon’s name. Leon’s low, rumbling groans of pleasure. The bedframe creaking. The mirror fogging from their breath.
SLAP... SLAP... SLAP...
AH—! YES—! RIGHT THERE—!
Ungh... fuck... Seraphine...
SLAP... SLAP... SLAP...
The room was filled with lust and love in equal measure. Every moan carried affection. Every grunt carried devotion. Every touch, every stroke, every moment was shared between two people who had found something rare and precious and were savoring every second of it.
Schlick... schlick... schlick...
I’m close again...
Come with me...
YES—!
Outside, Ira’s hand moved faster as she heard the familiar rhythm of their approaching climax.
Schlick—schlick—schlick—
AHHHHHHH—!
The room fell into heavy breathing. Satisfied silence punctuated by soft kisses and whispered words.
And outside, Ira leaned her head back against the wall, panting, her fingers slowing, a small smile on her lips.
Ira’s smile faded from her face in seconds.
The orgasm had barely finished echoing through her before the emptiness rushed back in, colder and sharper than before. She leaned against the wall, her fingers still wet, her breathing still uneven — but the satisfaction was gone. Replaced by something raw and grating.
Hours. It had been hours.
She knew about Leon’s stamina. She had experienced it firsthand, multiple times. She knew what he was capable of. But Seraphine? How was Seraphine still going? How was she still taking it, still moaning, still riding him like she had unlimited energy?
SLAP... SLAP... SLAP...
The sounds hadn’t stopped. Not once.
Ira had fought Seraphine when they first arrived here. Kilometers away from everyone else, hidden from prying eyes, they had clashed. It had been a real fight — magic against magic, skill against skill. And Ira had won. She had proven herself stronger in that moment.
But this? This was a different kind of defeat.
