"Your Highness, let's continue."
Truman shed his clothes, freeing his cock. In the dark, Elaviel's mythical senses saw everything clearly—dimming the light was mere self-deception.
"What? You… didn't you say…" Her voice faltered, realizing he'd never promised oral would replace intercourse. Deflation hit her.
"Your Highness, better to rip off the bandage quickly," Truman coaxed, his umpteenth attempt to lure the naive angel tonight. He was sure it'd pay off.
He nuzzled her neck, licking delicately, a true lapdog earning his treat.
Elaviel shivered, goosebumps rising, ticklish and tingling. Her long legs were parted, his presence lingering at her secret garden, refusing to retreat.
She realized escape from this sinner's defilement was impossible tonight. Yet her initial repulsion had dulled—perhaps the sin's effect? She thought mournfully.
Lifting her head, she met his eager gaze, her eyes misty. "What you said before… was it true?"
Her voice was faint, barely audible.
"Huh? Said what?"
"That this is all the Lord's plan…"
A blush spread across her pale cheeks, starkly visible.
"Of course! Our kiss is proof. If not for the Lord, would someone as exalted as you join with a mortal like me?" Truman wouldn't dare deny it. He'd swear the sun rose in the west if needed.
"It better be…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Then… do it."
Elaviel surrendered, numbing her last nerve with his flimsy justification, turning away, lips pursed.
Truman nearly roared with triumph but held back. Making a cross, he declared, "This is the Lord's will!"
Beneath his pious words, his hands greedily stripped her robe. A flawless, incendiary body emerged. In the dark, her skin glowed faintly, as if haloed, letting him see clearly.
A candle in the night.
This body was made to be a man's conquest… Truman pressed his chest against her breasts, flattening them into pancakes, while his hands slid down her back, gripping her perky, plump peach of an ass.
He kneaded eagerly, like a child with a toy, drawing soft, feminine whimpers from her.
"Ngh~ ohh… stop squeezing there, mmph…"
"Your Highness, can you control yourself?"
"Hm… what?"
"Last time, the contract bound you. Now, with no restraints, you won't crush me in a fit of passion, right? You're so powerful."
"I… shouldn't… but go easy."
Elaviel squirmed, resisting Truman's increasingly brazen kneading, while answering his shameless questions.
"Your Highness, I'll send you to paradise."
Paradise? What did he mean? Before she could process, Truman's forceful thrust clarified everything.
Pop~
That familiar sound.
His cock plunged into her exquisite, tight pussy, enveloped by eager flesh that kissed and hugged the rod that had once brought her ecstasy, joyfully welcoming it to her depths.
"Aaah~ wait, not so fast~ nghhh!"
Their perfect chemistry shone. After that first night's conquest, her pussy had molded to his shape. Now, revisiting, her passage and womb surrendered without resistance, fawning over him.
"How… nghh, don't move…"
"Seems you need me too, Your Highness. You're gripping me so tight I can't budge."
Truman nibbled her delicate earlobe, his hot breath flooding her ear.
Elaviel hadn't expected such weakness. She could crush this vile sinner with a finger, yet here she was, toyed with in bed.
Unbeknownst to her, the master-servant contract still subtly influenced her. It couldn't alter her will or emotions directly, but it could affect her subconsciously.
"Ngh! Easy…"
Unable to endure her pussy's ravenous sucking, Truman pounded harder. He sealed her lips with his, attacking from both ends—how could a fledgling angel withstand it?
The black tattoo above her pussy flickered, its glow dimming, fueling her lust, drawing soft moans from her throat.
Her long, pale legs instinctively locked around his waist, her wings draping over them like a swan-white velvet blanket, as if shielding their act from prying eyes.
"Your Highness, can I call you Vivi?"
His steamy breath grazed her ear. Elaviel frowned, clenching her teeth to stifle lewd moans, murmuring a faint "mm" after a pause.
Truman's thrusts grew bolder. He slid his hands under her armpits, gripping her shoulders from behind, pinning her before him. Her stunning face, wrestling with pleasure, drove his cock deeper into her sacred depths. He roared with passion, a rutting beast.
"Vivi… you feel so damn good. Your body's unreal! Nghh!"
"Nothing but… filthy words… ngh~ shut up…"
Her moans were a nightingale's song, plaintive and melodic.
"Hah… passion's like that. If you feel good, Vivi, let it out. It'll help purge the curse."
"Ngh… hah… keep talking, and I'll rip your mouth off!"
This man was the devil's devil, his depraved words relentless, dragging her down.
Slap, slap, slap!
Lewd, wet sounds echoed in her clinging, layered pussy, his cock branding her with each powerful thrust, reaching her core. She seemed to meet him, her hands lightly smacking his back—half-resisting, half-encouraging, though she'd never admit it.
"Vivi, how many times have you come? Be honest."
"Five… wahh… why's it bigger?!"
"Honest girls are cuter."
"Ngh… don't… don't call me cute…"
Elaviel's cheeks burned, her toes curling, nearly rolling her eyes. Why did she react so strongly to this man calling her cute?
"Your Highness! I'm coming—where do you want it?!"
"Nghhh! Anywhere… ugh!!"
After thousands of bed-shaking thrusts, Truman unleashed his first load, parting her legs and hoisting them onto his shoulders in a mating press, flooding her with his seed.
Gush, gush!!
Though mythical beings couldn't conceive, the sight of white cream overflowing her pussy sparked a primal satisfaction, as if she'd become his breeding vessel.
One release was far from his limit. After a brief rest, Truman flipped over, lifting Elaviel. She clung to him like a koala, limbs wrapping him tightly, her wings spreading for balance.
Her eyes drooped, as if unwilling to face herself, dazed. By her faint glow, Truman marveled. The angel revered by millions hid this naive, vulnerable face beneath her icy mask—lucky him to witness it.
Carrying her to the living room, her body bounced with each step, his thick cock hammering into her like a battering ram, drawing a soft whimper.
"Truman… that's enough. I feel much better…"
"But I'm not satisfied yet. You've come six times, me only once. Isn't that unfair, Your Highness?"
Truman feigned innocence, his hips relentless, tossing her up and slamming her down, her wings flapping, coaxing another moan.
"Your Highness, easing your followers' needs is your duty too, no? Besides, the curse isn't gone."
He set her on the windowsill, bending her into the same position he'd taken Sylvia in, forcing her to jut out her peach-like ass, a visually stunning sight.
"Enough for tonight… I'll come tomorrow…" Elaviel pleaded, her burning desire unresolved, coiling in her abdomen, ignited by his every touch.
"Tomorrow, tomorrow—too many tomorrows. Today's tasks are for today."
Truman's cock plunged into her tender, plump peach, triggering another gush of her climax.
He smirked. She clearly craved it—without the contract, she could leave anytime. Her pinned-down act was more like using him as a living vibrator.
Hundreds of thrusts breached her core, entering uncharted depths.
"Look, Vivi, there's the church below. Hundreds pray there daily, hoping to see Your Highness fulfill their wishes!"
Her imagination ran wild, picturing herself displayed before her faithful, tamed by this man, drenched in filthy seed, forsaken by God…
Another shattering orgasm hit. As if in sync, Truman gripped her wings, unloading in thick spurts, his cum clashing with her love juices, hips locked against her lush ass, lingering long after.