Seven Sins System Chapter 662. Unshaken

Seven Sins System Chapter 662. Unshaken

I rose above her again, eyes glowing molten, horns curved like daggers of truth, my tentacles wrapped around her like the arms of a god too old to speak its name.

And I looked at her—really looked.

Hair a mess of sweat and shadow. Lips red. Chest rising in shallow, desperate breaths.

But her eyes?

Unshaken.

I leaned in, kissing her jaw, her cheek, her ear.

“I could end the heavens for you,” I whispered. “Maybe I should…”

She shuddered. Her fingers clawed into my back.

“Do it,” she whispered.

My tails flicked, sharp and precise, curling along her leg like a promise of what I was still holding back.

I held her.

With hands. With wings. With every coil of power I had.

My tentacles gripped tighter—supporting her, rocking her, moving in rhythm with each thrust of shadow and sin and sacred destruction.

She moaned my name again.

And I— I fucked her.

Not like a man trying to impress.

But like a devil remembering his crown.

And she—

She moaned to me.

Like I was the only god left worth praying to.

Not in words. Not in praise. But in the sacred, breathless sounds that cracked through her throat as her back arched and her body wrapped tighter around mine.

Julia trembled beneath me, above me, around me—her fingers digging into my shoulder blades, her legs locked around my hips. She wasn’t just surrendering.

She was ascending.

Her breath came in fractured gasps, each one more broken, more beautiful than the last. Her voice—normally sharp, quick-witted, laced with sarcasm—was now a litany of whimpers, curses, and my name spoken like a spell.

Every time she said it, it hit me somewhere primal.

Like I was rewriting the definition of worship—one thrust, one growl, one tangled heartbeat at a time.

I kissed her. Hard. Open-mouthed and gasping. Her lips were swollen, soft, tasting like the kind of blasphemy that deserved a crown.

My hands roamed—her waist, her sides, her ribs, her breasts. I couldn’t stop touching her. Like I had to remind myself that she was here. That I was here.

I was close. Too close.

And when it hit—

When the world fractured inside me, and my body surged with white-hot ecstasy—

I didn’t roar.

I groaned.

Deep. Low. Owned.

And then—

[Lust Point +20]

The screen flickered faintly behind my eyes. Cold, digital, distant.

But I didn’t care.

Because she was beneath me, purring now—yes, purring like some kind of satisfied demoness. Her fingers still in my hair. Her thighs twitching slightly. Her smile lazy and glowing and entirely unholy.

I collapsed halfway onto her, still panting, half-draped in tentacles and sweat.

She looked up at me, eyes half-lidded. “That’s twice now you’ve wrecked my ability to walk.”

I kissed her—slower this time. Mouth against mouth, soft and savoring. She melted into it, like she belonged there. Like she’d never belonged anywhere else.

“Worth it,” I murmured.

“Mmm,” she purred, voice thick with warmth. “My love.”

That sound.

That sound!

The devil in me grinned.

Sharp. Sated. Dark around the edges. My wings twitching slightly with leftover tension.

And then I felt it.

A prickle on the edge of my senses. A flicker of gold. A weightless shift in the air, like someone watching through silk and judgment.

I turned my head— And saw her.

Through the still-flickering veil of Shadow Space, just outside the infirmary window…

Puriel.

Standing there.

Motionless.

Watching.

Her expression unreadable. Her aura locked down so tight it looked like moonlight frozen behind glass. But she was there.

And she’d seen everything.

The heat in my body didn’t vanish.

But something shifted.

I turned back to Julia, kissed her forehead—lingering, slower this time—and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

“Get dressed,” I murmured. “I’ll be right back.”

She blinked, still dazed. “What—?”

But I was already moving.

I stood, half-naked, shirt clinging to my ribs, doctor coat still half down. My pants were halfway down my hips—I yanked them up and zipped them, not even bothering to fix the rest.

Didn’t care.

Let her see me like this.

I stepped into the air and teleported.

Right in front of her.

Just as she turned.

Just as she tried to leave.

The moment my boots hit the earth in front of her, her eyes flared. Her wings tensed, but she didn’t open them. Not yet.

She froze.

So did I.

The silence between us stretched wide, thick with everything she had seen and everything I refused to regret.

She opened her mouth.

I raised a brow.

And said nothing.

Yet.

The breeze between us was sharp—cool against my bare skin, laced with morning dew and the faint trace of lavender from the infirmary window behind me.

Her scent hit just after, softer, like faded starlight. She looked composed at first glance—hair brushed, uniform immaculate, eyes glowing as always—but the tension in her wings said otherwise.

Her feathers twitched once, like she was either ready to fly or ready to flinch.

I didn’t step forward. Not yet.

I didn’t need to.

My presence was enough.

Disheveled. Unbuttoned. Skin still flushed from heat and shadow. The echo of Julia’s purr still clinging to my jaw like ghost lipstick. I looked like sin walked out of someone’s last prayer.

She noticed.

Of course she did.

So I spoke.

Finally.

“You know,” I said slowly, “you should stop spying on me.”

A beat passed.

“I thought we were partners?”

That got her.

Her lips parted, but only a huff came out first—half scoff, half regret. Her wings folded tighter behind her, and her posture went stiff like she was preparing for some kind of holy tribunal.

“I wasn’t spying,” she muttered.

I tilted my head.

She folded her arms—not like she meant it. More like she needed something to do with her hands. “There’s no way I was going to walk up to you while you were in that… condition.”

That condition.

The grin that threatened my face didn’t reach my mouth. But it damn well curled in my chest.

“Right,” I said smoothly. “So instead you watched it. From afar.”

She looked away. “Yeah.”

One word. Barely audible.

But I heard it.

I felt it.