Seven Sins System Chapter 624. on My Terms
Seven Sins System Chapter 624. on My Terms
‘Damn it,’ I thought.
My eyes locked with hers.
Morgana.
This wasn't just some random demoness with a crush. This was Asmo’s little sister. A succubus with a reputation, power, and the emotional maturity of a mana-charged firework. She’d probably slept with half the high demons in the Underdeep. I wasn’t judging… but I was possessive.
And that part of me—the Wrath deep in my core? It didn’t like the idea of being added to some list.
Still…
She wanted to play games.
And if there was one thing I was damn good at—
It was taking control of them.
So I made my choice.
“How about this…” I said, voice dropping into a low, dangerous hum as I stepped into her space, making her back up until the back of her knees touched the edge of her ridiculous pink bed. “I’ll give you what you want.”
She smiled slowly. “Yeah?”
“But on my terms.”
“Ooh. Intrigued.”
“I’ll give you the biggest climax of your life,” I said flatly, letting my tentacles ripple through the air behind me, slow and deliberate. “And in return, you give me the damn candle. No tricks. No flirting it out of reach. No pouting.”
She crossed her arms, grin sharp. “Sounds like a bargain to me.”
I stepped closer, close enough for my breath to touch her lips. “And Morgana?”
“Yeah?” Her voice dipped.
“I’m not holding back.”
“I wouldn’t want you to,” she whispered, eyes shining with something feral.
That was all I needed.
My fingers flicked, subtle, controlled.
‘Telekinesis.’
A soft clink from the shelf behind her, and a black leather blindfold slid into my hand. I held it up between us. Her eyes sparkled.
“Ohhh,” she breathed. “You’re pulling that card?”
“Eyes closed.” I whispered, brushing it over her cheek. “Unless you want to break before we even start.”
She didn’t hesitate. Turned around. Lifted her hair. “Tie me up, El.”
That name. From her lips?
It hit different.
I looped the blindfold behind her head. It fit perfectly. She let out the faintest hum, swaying a little like she was already starting to melt into it.
My tentacles hovered behind her, a hair-width from her skin, ready.
And then, one by one, I wrapped them around her.
The first around her thigh, lifting her leg, letting her feel the weight.
She gasped, arching against the pressure.
The second, around her waist, pinning her back against my chest, her arms trapped in front of her.
Her head fell back, breath stuttering.
The third, tightening around her throat, the tip brushing her jaw.
She whimpered, body going pliant, lips parted in a gasp.
The fourth, winding down her back, teasing the base of her tail, the tip of her spine.
She shuddered. Moaned.
I paused.
Said, softly, just behind her ear.
"I will wreck your body till you can't walk straight tonight."
A tiny, needy sound slipped past her lips.
My tentacles tightened, just slightly. "You will not be able to breathe without feeling me."
"Please," she whimpered.
I let my lips brush the base of her ear. "And when you think you can't take anymore—"
"Please!"
"—I will..." I held my words since I was about to said "I will fuck you senseless." But that wasn't my plan. My plan was making her experience orgasm without using my cock or fucking her with my tentacles. Yeah, using my hand or maybe my mouth.
My lips hovered over her skin, her pulse flickering just under the surface.
"I will," I said, voice dropping, "let you come."
The breath left her lungs.
My fingers brushed her chin. "Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good."
And then, one by one, my tentacles lifted her off her feet.
Her gasp was immediate, breathless, delighted. The one at her throat loosened enough to let her breathe, but the rest tightened, pinning her legs wide, her arms trapped against her sides, her body a willing captive suspended in my arms.
She was strong enough to fight it. To snap the restraints.
But that wasn't the game.
The game was being helpless, at my mercy, letting me control everything—the pace, the pleasure, the pain.
I parted her legs, holding her wide open, the tip of the tentacle teasing along the fold. She squirmed, gasping.
"Don't move," I ordered.
Her breath stuttered, and the muscles in her legs tensed—like she wanted to obey, but couldn't stop her instinctive reactions.
"I said. Don't move."
She obeyed.
My eyes locked on her dripped entrance, the soft, pink flesh begging to be touched, the pearl of her clit begging for attention.
The tentacle between her thighs brushed her slit. She moaned, head falling back against my shoulder.
"You like that, don't you?"
She nodded, whimpering.
I slid the tentacle along her pussy, teasing, the tip barely nudging her entrance.
Yeah, I had to be honest. She had a nice looking cunt.
"Do you want more?"
"Y-yes!"
"Say it."
"I want more," she whispered.
"Louder."
"I want more!"
I pressed the tentacle against her clit.
Her whole body jerked, the restraints around her legs and thighs tightening.
"Fuck!"
"That's what I thought," I purred, sliding the tentacle down, spreading her lips.
She was soaked. Dripping down my coil like she’d been waiting her whole damn life for this moment. And maybe she had. The brat had teased me, danced around me, flirted like her life depended on it—but now? Now she was trembling. Breath shallow. Voice caught somewhere between a moan and a plea.
I leaned in close, right behind her ear. “You’re a mess already.”
She whimpered, trying to rub against the tentacle. Denied. My grip shifted, holding her even tighter. No friction. No satisfaction. Just unbearable pressure.
“You think just because you offered me your cunt, I’m going to let you come?” I whispered. My voice was low, dangerous, dripping with restrained hunger. “No, Morgana. You don’t get rewarded for existing. You get punished for misbehaving.”
She made this broken sound, somewhere between frustration and arousal, and tried to wiggle again.
My hand clamped over her throat—not hard, just a gentle, possessive squeeze. “What did I say about moving?”