The Incubus System Chapter 1188. Lost and Rewards
The Incubus System Chapter 1188. Lost and Rewards I reached between us, pushing fabric aside with shaking fingers. She didn’t stop me. Not
The Incubus System Chapter 1188. Lost and Rewards
I reached between us, pushing fabric aside with shaking fingers.
She didn’t stop me.
Not this time.
Her breath stuttered when I touched her, and her voice cracked as she whispered my name—“Ethan…”—like a confession and a goodbye wrapped into one.
And then she moved.
She sank onto me with a low gasp, her thighs tightening around my hips, her hands bracing against my chest for balance. And I…
I let out a groan. Sharp, guttural. My hips jerked in response.
Then I slapped my hand over my mouth.
Because shit.
We were still in the middle of a ruined district.
There were demon hunter drones out there.
Holy scouts. Stray demons.
But none of that mattered right now.
Because the chief of the Demon Hunter Association—Clea herself—was riding the demon lord.
I could feel everything.
My body was hyper-sensitive, pushed to the edge by the Incubus Rage status and the raw desperation that came with it. Her inner heat wrapped around me, clenching, pulsing, and my head lolled back against the cracked wall behind me as I bit down another groan.
“Shit,” I breathed under my hand. “This is really happening…”
Clea’s brow was furrowed, her lips parted with short, sharp breaths. Her hair stuck to her cheek, her body moving with quick, efficient rhythm—not drawn-out, not slow—because we didn’t have time.
And she knew it.
I could see it in her eyes.
Every grind of her hips, every shift of pressure, was deliberate. Focused. She wasn’t trying to tease me. She was trying to save me.
I braced my hands on her hips, fingers digging into her skin where her combat gear had fallen away. I could feel her muscles working, her heat, her slick tightness around me. It was maddening. She moved again, and this time I couldn’t help it—my hips bucked in response, and a noise escaped me that didn’t sound human.
I was getting close. Too close. Not just physically—but everything. Emotionally. Mentally. I was floating somewhere between reality and madness. Her body wrapped around mine was the only anchor I had left.
“You feel…” I choked out, gripping her tighter, “—you feel too good.”
She let out a shaky breath, her forehead resting against mine as she picked up the pace. Her thighs trembled. Her breath came faster.
“I told you,” she whispered between movements, “forgive me if I’m not perfect.”
“You’re—” I gasped as she ground down harder, faster. My claws scraped against stone. “—you’re more than perfect.”
The sounds of our bodies meeting echoed off the broken alley walls—muted, wet, frantic. Sweat clung to us. My runes flickered dimly across my chest, slowly recharging with every sharp movement.
And then— She clenched around me. Hard.
That was it.
I buried my face against her shoulder, holding her tight as my body locked up.
I came with a grunt I couldn’t suppress—loud, ragged, animal. It felt like lightning detonated in my spine, like my entire body was finally, finally getting what it needed.
My muscles seized. My wings twitched once.
[Demonic Power Fully Restored ]
[Status Cleared: Incubus Rage]
[HP Regeneration Restored – +12 per sec]
[You gained EXP!]
I slumped back against the wall, breathing like I’d just outrun a dragon.
Clea collapsed against me too, her arms still wrapped around my shoulders, her face buried in the crook of my neck.
“…Well,” she murmured, voice barely audible. “That’s one way to end a mission.”
I laughed—quiet, winded, but real. My hand brushed her hair back gently, and I leaned my head against hers.
“You okay?” I asked softly.
She didn’t answer right away. Then she nodded. “Yeah. Are you?”
I gave a weak, crooked smile. “Kinda... I need to move again.”
Clea lifted her head, brows knitting, but she didn’t argue. She slid off me gently and moved aside, her breath still ragged. She started to redress.
I groaned, dragging myself upright, every muscle groaning like it had just been reassembled wrong. My legs felt like stone and jelly at the same time. My wings gave one pitiful twitch and fell flat again.
“Gods, I feel like I just lost a boss raid and won the reward at the same time,” I muttered, dusting myself off and trying not to fall over.
She smirked faintly. “You look it.”
“I need to settle all this. Get this zone locked down and head back to my city.”
She glanced up from buckling her coat. “Your city?”
“Lust City,” I said flatly, my tone darkening. “That bastard demon lord didn’t just send his forces here. He’s hitting everything. Even the capital.”
She went quiet.
“This isn’t just a breach,” I added, voice low. “This is a war.”
Her expression shifted. The tension in her shoulders straightened—battle stance. She pulled her gloves back on, tightening the straps at her wrist.
“I’ll… inform the others,” she said after a moment, her voice a little softer.
She turned to leave, but I stopped her.
“Clea.”
It came out sharper than I intended. Not ‘Mrs. Clea.’ Not formal. Just her name. Just the truth.
She paused, half-turned. “Yes?”
I looked at her for a beat, then said, “Thank you… for giving me a chance.”
There was a silence. One of those heavy, strange silences where a hundred things might be said but none of them need to be.
Then she chuckled, looking back at me with a slightly amused tilt of her lips. “I’m surprised to hear something like that from you, of all people. Especially in this form.”
She gestured vaguely at me—at my demon lord self, eyes probably still smoldering with low-grade infernal fire.
She took a step back, lingering only a second.
“But I guess…” she said slowly, her voice gentler now, “I can confirm… you’re still Ethan Strongheart.”
And then she added, with a look that reached a little deeper than I expected, “The one I knew.”
With that, she turned and left, vanishing into the chaos beyond the alley.
I stood there a moment longer, alone with the smoke, the dirt, the blood… and the faint warmth still lingering where she’d been.