Morning Fire, Hidden Flames
The golden thread of morning crept through the silk drapes, casting heat upon the boudoir's rich interior. Dust motes drifted listlessly within the sunlight, waltzing like miniature spirits across the combat zone of desire that had been left behind. Garments were strewn about, sheets rumpled, the air heavy still with the memories of a night steeped in sin and desire.
The night previous had been soft, nearly deceitfully so. Following the lovely dinner with his new parents, the goodbye had been tender—words of affection, the promise of new ties beginning. Victor had been left undisturbed, the room his haven. Peace, however, was never intended to be. Not when Violet, with her lustful spirit aflame like an unslakable fire, would not permit him to merely shut his eyes and fall into sleep.
She had kindled him again and again, pulling him into that hurricane of lust until the night had turned into something infinite. Any other man, put in his shoes, would have been used up—smoldered out, shattered under such all-encompassing love and temptation. Victor, however, was no ordinary man.
The Black Lion bloodline coursed through him now, restructuring his body, reconstructing his endurance into something unstoppable and supernatural. His new frame was a weapon, one that obeyed Violet's addictive body without hesitation. They had pushed those boundaries to the limit last night, round after round, until at last exhaustion had overpowered even them.
But it wasn't defeat. It was surrender. A sweet surrender.
Thus, they slept—tangled in one another's arms, her body radiating heat against his skin, their limbs intertwined as if they were sculpted from the same block of destiny.
The sun rose higher now, and Victor moved. His eyelashes dipped, golden light snagging on the sharp angles of his face. Muscles tensed under skin tanned by morning heat. Cautiously, slowly, he opened his eyes.
His wide chest rose and fell in deep breaths. Sunlight kissed his exposed skin. Silk sheets wrapped around his hips, clinging to the slight sheen of last night's sweat. A soft exhale slid from his throat. Half growl, half sigh—weariness blended with satisfaction.
Then, he felt it.
Warmth. Wetness. Movement.
"Mmm." he groaned, his brows drawn in as ecstasy pulled him awake. Shivering ran down his spine. He blinked open his purple eyes—bleary, unfocused—and then they went wide.
The first thing he was aware of wasn't the room or the sun—but sensation. A delicious, slow suction that arched his spine. His dick was hard, straining under the sheet—and someone's lips encased him.
He blinked the sleep haze away and glanced down. He glanced down.
The sheet ridged over his waist, but it shifted—gently, relentlessly. Victor pulled the sheet away with a sweep of his hand.
And there she was
Silver hair ran down her back like a waterfall of moonlight over his thighs, shining in sunlight. Her violet eyes—those hungry, haunting eyes—looked up at him with mischief as her mouth moved wetly. Gleamed up at him, full of teasing mischief and hunger. The sheets hung off her naked body, exposing the curve of her back and the soft swell of her buttocks. Her lips, clasped around his erection, emitted the vilest, moist noises—slurp… pop… slrrpp.—when she drew away, her tongue tracing circles over the head.
"Sweetheart…" he growled, voice raw with sleep and desire.
She released him with a soft pop. Smacked her lips as one savoring a treat. "Darling," she said huskily, voice full of morning rasp and need, "you were sleeping… but this bit was wide awake. I couldn't help myself."
Victor chuckled, low and sinful, running a hand through her tangled hair. "A dangerous little demon, aren't you?" and he add while running a hand through her silver hair, letting his fingers linger against the soft curve of her horns. "A dangerous woman. You'll kill me at this rate."
Her smile widened. "Then die in me." And she lowered her head again.
The noises were obscene. Slurping wet noises, small moans humming against him, her tongue moving wicked patterns. His hand gripped the sheets, his breaths labored.
"Violet…" he grunted, his hips jerking hard beneath his control.
Violet just smiled. Without a word, she descended again, her lips and tongue working in cadence, faster now, wetter, more boldly—slrp… mmhh… slrp!
Her moans sent vibrations up his shaft, and Victor's hand clenched the sheets. His breath quickened. Each movement, each swirl of her tongue, made him pulse harder.
"Sweetheart …" he groaned, the sound like thunder in his chest.
Her eyes locked on his as she swallowed him deeper, the sight alone enough to break kings. Her moans sent shivers up his shaft.
Victor's jaw tightened. "I'm… going to—"
She didn't draw back. She drank him greedily, violet eyes glimmering as she welcomed every sip. When she drew back, lips licked languidly, cheeks flushed, breath labored. She licked them slowly, relishing him.
"You taste sweeter in the morning," she whispered, climbing up onto straddle his belly. Skin still warm from last night. A glowing softness of sweat lay shimmering across her collarbones and thighs. Her perfume—female, sensual, sinful—combined with his, rich in the air.
Her breasts shook with every breath. Pink nipples tense with excitement. Body shone dimly in sunlight—perfect, radiant. Her pussy grazed his abs, leaving warmth behind. She leaned forward, lips kissing his, silver hair a curtain of concealment around them.
Victor moved hands along her waist. Grasped hips gently. "You…" He smiled, pulling her up around the waist. "…are insatiable."
"I'm yours," she breathed, sliding onto his stomach, breasts swaying, her heat brushing his abs. "Why hold back?"
He smiled—slow, dangerous, full of desire. "Playing with fire."
She leaned close. Lips brushed his ear. "Then burn me, Darling."
Then, he flipped her in one smooth motion—now she lay beneath him, laughing breathlessly.
"You always do that," she pouted on his action.
"Because I enjoy reminding you who you are to," he breathed, before kissing her neck.
"And also, because I adore this view," he smiled whispered, before seizing her lips.
The kiss was blazing. Tongues sparred, breaths entwined, teeth scraped. His hands roamed—sides, waist, curve of hips. She arched into him, moaning—"Mmh… nghh… yes…"—as he devoured every inch.
Then rolled her onto her knees. Back arched, hips high.
He paused. Eyes devouring her. Perfect spine dip. Round hips. Soft heat between thighs gleaming with want.
"Wait…" she whispered, glancing back, feigning hesitation. "I was only teasing…"
Victor's hand slid down her ass, squeezing firmly. "Teasing has consequences."
"But… I'm sore… from last night…" Her voice was playful, dramatic. She was the Spirit of Lust itself—never truly tired, never satisfied. But now she acts like poor woman
Victor caught her drama so he smirked. "I'll be gentle." It was a lie, and they both knew it and he smirking wickedly.
He pushed into her with one deep, slow thrust. He entered her.
"Ahhh—Darling!" she cried out, voice trembling with pleasure.
He set a steady pace, each movement drawing another sound from her lips— "Ngh… mmhh… aah…!"—and each one fed his hunger.
Their bodies flowed like poetry—colliding, yearning, devouring. They keep going with their love making session until noon.
They did not hurry. This was not lust—it was passion and love.
who know how many love making session after their bodies at long last gave out in exhaustion, the sun had climbed high in the sky, and their knotted limbs glistened with heat and perspiration. Bed a tangle of silken sheets, silver hair, intermingled heat.
Victor reclined on his back, chest heaving. Violet snuggled up against him, her silver locks spilling over his chest, violet eyes sleepy but still blazing with possession, face flushed, eyes heavy, aglow.
"Sweetheart…" he whispered, running his fingers through her hair.
"Mm?" she sighed, hardly awake.
"I could get addicted to you."
She chuckled softly. "You already are."
There was a long silence afterward, the kind only lovers can have after being utterly undone by one another. And then her voice came back—soft, but with an undercurrent of possessiveness.
"You'll never leave me… right?"
Victor turned to face her, his purple eyes blazing with sincerity. "Never. You're mine."
Violet smiled, then breathed, "And you're mine… Darling."
Victor released a soft laugh, pulling her into him, kissing her forehead. "Always."
The heat between them remained—until it was shattered.
Knock. Knock.
A soft voice came through the door. Sweet. Familiar.
"Son… are you awake? Or did you forget? Today is the beginning of your cultivation."
Victor came to a standstill.
His eyes grew wide. His chest constricted.
Violet's violet eyes were reflected in his panic. For once, the Spirit of Lust herself appeared caught—like a child who was being caught stealing candy.
Victor grumbled under his breath, voice strained. "…Shit."