Violet, Spirit of Lust [Part-2]
Mmm… that noise escaped Victor's mouth as warmth thrummed in his chest, each inhale deeper than the previous one. "Aaahh… mmm…" His heated exhale caressed Violet's exposed abdomen, sending shivers through her. That single breath held a ticklish tease, and she was eager for more of it against her skin.
Victor slowly dipped his head, taking each inch of her body in as if it were holy. His lips followed, leaving smoldering kisses in his wake like spots of embers. When he reached the navel, he planted a wetter, hungrier kiss there, lapping up her heat before his mouth went further toward the area he most wanted.
Violet's legs quivered and moved uncomfortably, her body betraying her excitement. For the first time in her life, she was not the pursuer—but the pursued—yearning for him. The world's men had always fallen at her feet, being controlled by lust, but now she learned how perilous was desire when it gripped her heart rather than her loins.
Her perfume deepened, intensified, as if her very being called to him. Victor breathed deeply, drunken, unable to refrain from inhaling her repeatedly. He kissed her belly a final time and then brought his head up slightly, eyes flashing with desire. "Let me taste the best of you," he whispered, his words coarse with desire.
Violet smiled at him, slow and evil, the sort of smile that made blood run hotter. She spread her thighs with careful elegance, revealing the most forbidden space of her body like a queen revealing her throne. "She's all yours," she whispered, her voice half command and half surrender.
Victor had never looked at a woman so closely before, but he knew no human could match her. Her tender creases shone softly, kissed with thin golden threads of hair, her rose-colored mouth throbbing with an enchantment that could destroy thrones. From a mere distance away, her perfume overwhelmed him—sugar-sweet, sinful, inescapable, as if the sum total of all pleasures had been bundled into one scent.
Both his body and soul seared, aching with need. He leaned in, lips brushing over her warmth without making contact, nerves and passion warring within him. He had lived as a gigolo on Earth and had touched so many women, but this was different. This was not something to be bought and sold, not something normal—this was Violet, the essence of lust herself, and he would give her more than just body.
His lack of experience with spirits was revealed in the manner he hesitated, calculating carefully how he might appease her. Nonetheless, he persisted, determined. Violet observed his attempt and, although she could have helped him with directions, she bit her lip and held her peace, relishing every moment of observing him struggle on her behalf. His passion, his hunger—it awakened her more than finesse ever could.
Despite all his nervousness, he was getting her wetter with each hesitant advance of his mouth, each awed kiss that lasted too long. His tongue hesitated at first, but his desire filled in the voids his skill left behind. Her body curved, her breathing grew rapid, and a soft moan escaped from her lips before she could prevent it.
Victor's heart pounded. He may have been a tamer of spirits now, a man from another world who retained memories of Earth in the blood that coursed through his veins, but at this moment, he was hers alone. And if he continued on this track, it wouldn't be long before Violet realized that no one else had ever affected her this way.
Violet's eyes sparkled with ravenous glee, her frame shuddering as she opened up to him further. To her, selecting such a promising host was already fulfillment, but the manner in which he caressed her now caused her frame to hum. She opened herself readily, anticipating the attention she yearned for, her breath catching when she spotted the lively smile illuminating Victor's face.
Though he had fantasized about many scenes of passion on Earth, this was not the same. His actions were urgent but gentle, motivated not by obligation, but by passion. Steadily, Victor spread her legs further and brought his lips to that lovely flower. Closing his eyes, he indulged in the instant, his entire consciousness on the taste.
The initial rush of her taste hit him like a bolt of lightning. Sour, sweet, salty, bitter—all the sensations merged into something so addicting that no food, no kiss, no drug came close. He knew then that nothing in the world had ever even remotely compared to this. Violet wasn't temptation—she was addiction itself, and he was already hooked on her flavor.
Up until this point, he had believed that her natural perfume, her hot breath, and the saccharine of her spit were sufficient to make him crazy. But this. this was different from anything he had ever experienced. The flavor emanating from her, burning and pulsing against his tongue, was more addictive than any habit he had ever known in his previous life.
He started gently, rubbing his lips against her fine folds, planting kisses on her mound and the silky hairs that sparkled there. But increasingly, his desire became too strong. He used a gentle hand to spread her shining lips and suck her nectar into his mouth, his tongue probing her in slow, hungry strokes.
Her body gave an immediate response. The more he sipped of her heavenly elixir, the more she flowed, as if her own spirit enjoyed nourishing him. Each touch of his tongue, each suck on his lips drove Violet further into ecstasy.
"Mmm… ahhh…" Her cries came freely, husky and shameless, her voice shaking with desire. "Right there… don't stop… ahhh, yes!"
Her words were infused with longing, every word fanning the flames that smoldered in Victor's chest. Under his lips, Violet's body convulsed, her honey issuing as if it had been reserved solely for him. He had kissed plenty of women in his previous existence, had heard moans ranging from artificial to dramatic, but none compared to this. Violet's voice was not like that of any other woman—raw, uncensored, full of a hunger that caused his pulse to beat cannon-like in his veins.
No act. No performance. Only sheer incarnation of lust, allowing herself to completely succumb to his caress. For the first time, Victor, once a man who peddled pleasure as a trade, felt anxious, nearly defenseless. This wasn't playing the gigolo role. This was something different, something new, something that spurred his blood and shook his very existence.
"Damn… good…" he moaned, his voice muffled as his tongue labored her wet folds. The slurping sound of wet flesh filled the little room, joining Violet's frantic moans. Her spine arched and contorted, her thighs shaking, and her fingernails dug into the sheets as if to pin herself to the world. She had never felt pleasure such as this. Each stroke of his tongue brought a new wave crashing over her form, her slickness flowing endlessly.
Victor consumed it all eagerly, not allowing a drop to pass. He ate her like she was starving, his tongue pushing and twisting, torturing every inch of her pink body. He stayed on her quivering bud, going around it, suckling it with hunger, drawing raspy gasps out of her throat until her speech turned to desperate wails.
Flattery spilled from his lips when he caught his breath. "I adore every inch of you… your flavor, your body… I want to devour you whole and drink every last drop that flows out of this sweet pussy…" His words, shameless and unflinching, sent Violet's cheeks aflame even as her desire grew.
She took his head in both hands, pushing him down, pleading with her body. He responded eagerly, sucking harder, his tongue frantically dancing until her whole body spasmed upward, curving almost impossibly.
"A-ahhh… k-keep… keep going… I-I'm coming!" Violet's desperate cry tore through the room, her voice trembling as ecstasy ripped through her body like a violent storm. Her legs quivered, toes curling tight, her entire form shaking as wave after wave of pleasure devoured her.
Victor leaned in more aggressively, intent on extracting each and every moan from her mouth. His tongue danced with rhythm within her wet pussy, teasing, circling, thrusting, as his other hand massaged the yielding weight of her breast. Each flick, each squeeze, was controlled by instinct honed from hundreds of experiences, but made all the more potent because this time—opposite countless previous ones—he did care how she reacted.
The passion of lust in front of him wasn't anybody. She was Violet, a creature that personified temptation itself, and now she was coming undone in his hands. Blazing rivulets of her nectar burst on his lips, covering them, and Victor lapped it up hungrily, relishing her flavors like fine wine. Her cries became raw, shattered, uncontrollable, each one propelling his own passion toward the brink.
She shivered once more, a cry turning to a whimper as the release engulfed her, leaving her weak and shaking. Violet's body sagged back, sweat sticking to her white skin, her chest heaving and falling in irregular breaths. In the aftermath of the storm of her climax, the strength appeared to drain from her entirely, her body shaking as if she could no longer support herself.