The Incubus System Chapter 1261. Bigger, Harder
The Incubus System Chapter 1261. Bigger, Harder
Her head rolled back against the pillows.
“Okay,” she panted. “You’ve convinced me…”
“Of what?” I murmured against her skin, dragging my mouth slowly down her chest again—kissing, nipping, tasting the salt and sweetness of her, like I couldn’t get enough. Which I couldn’t.
“That I need more of this,” she breathed. “More than anything else. You don’t just f*ck—” Her voice hitched as my tongue flicked her nipple again. “You reward.”
I grinned against her skin. “As I should be.”
She kissed me then, quick but hot, her fingers tangling in my hair again like she wanted to pull me back under. But this time, her hand slid lower.
And yeah. She found my cock hard.
Real hard.
She didn’t grip me—at least not fully.
She teased.
Her fingertips ghosted along the side of my cock, soft as silk, almost like she was drawing a line. A breath. A promise. Then her palm brushed down toward the base, grazing my balls, her nails scratching just enough to make my hips twitch.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Still didn’t move.
Didn’t push.
I wanted to see what she’d do.
Her fingers rubbed the tip, slow circles, smearing the precome across the head, and holy hell—yeah, I gave her all the access. Just laid there, staring at her, watching the way she touched me like I was something delicious she’d been waiting to unwrap.
Meanwhile—
My hands weren’t idle.
One cupped her breast again, fingers toying with her nipple, pinching it between slow rolls while the other dipped between her thighs and found her already soaked.
She gasped the moment I touched her.
Her thighs spread instinctively—welcoming, needy—but her gaze stayed on me, hooded and dark and just a little wild.
“I really like this scene…” she whispered. Her hand still traced lazy circles over my shaft, watching the way I twitched every time she found the right spot. “I like when you get harder… when you get bigger…”
She leaned in close, lips brushing mine. “And when you got your climax…”
Her voice dropped into something filthy-sweet and hot enough to melt stone.
I didn’t respond.
Couldn’t.
Because yeah—
She said it like she meant it.
And the way her fingers moved? Like she wanted it.
And I was starting to see stars.
But I wouldn’t let her win the rhythm war.
I flicked my tail.
That sleek, infernal limb slithered up behind her, coiling like a serpent until the tip brushed her cheek. She shivered.
I trailed it down her face, then along her collarbone—slow, teasing. Then back up to caress the curve of her jaw.
She met my gaze.
“And I…” I said low, my voice like embers, “I love it when I see you wet.”
She moaned—quiet, breathy.
“When this—”
I pushed two fingers deeper into her folds, slick and warm and clenching—
“—is drooling for my cock.”
Her whole body arched.
“And after I come inside…”
I kissed her throat.
Her pulse beat against my lips.
“…and it leaks…”
Another kiss. Lower now.
“Dripping with my seed.”
She let out a shuddered breath that was half a laugh and half a growl.
“Then…” she whispered, “do it.”
Her hand left my cock just long enough to grab the tip of my tail.
And yeah—she knew.
That was one of my weak spots.
She brought the tip to her mouth.
And licked it.
My entire body locked.
A hiss tore from my throat.
Not pain. Not surprise.
Just pure need.
My hips bucked forward slightly. Her tongue swirled, slow and lewd, and she sucked lightly on the tail's tip like it was just another part of me she could control.
“Oh f*ck,” I groaned, my voice dropping into something darker.
I leaned over her now, bracing myself with one hand on the headboard while the other still toyed with her, still working her slowly—soaking in every twitch, every moan, every time she bit her bottom lip like she couldn’t stand how much she wanted it.
“I’m so horny right now,” I breathed. “You have no idea.”
“Oh, I do,” she whispered back, lips brushing the tail still in her grip. “I feel you throbbing.”
Her thighs squeezed around my wrist as I continued to move my fingers in slow, firm strokes. Her hips rolled, meeting me halfway.
“I want it,” she breathed. “All of it.”
“Say please.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not that desperate.”
I leaned down and kissed her again—deep this time, tongue claiming hers, mouth hot and hungry. She moaned into it, biting back the pride in her tone.
When we pulled apart, she panted, “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re dripping,” I growled. “Admit it.”
She didn’t answer.
Just moaned louder as I slid another finger inside.
The wet sound of it echoed in the room, tangled with our breathing and the faint rustle of sheets as we twisted into each other.
“Damian,” she muttered, “you make me say things I never thought I’d say…”
“You love it.”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I do.”
Then she pulled me down again—this time grinding against me, our bodies sliding together like puzzle pieces soaked in sin. Her legs wrapped around my waist, locking me in place.
And she whispered against my lips:
“Now f*ck me like you’re never going back to that college again.”
I smiled.
Eyes glowing.
Tail curling around her thigh.
“Oh baby…” I murmured. “I dropped out ten minutes ago.”
Syntyche didn’t even pretend to act surprised.
Her grin turned feral.
“Well then,” she purred, “no deadlines. No lectures. No excuses.”
And then she kissed me—rough.
Teeth, tongue, fire.
There was no preamble now. No drawn-out teasing like before. Her mouth moved on mine like she was already claiming me, her nails raking down my chest, her thighs locking around my waist as we tumbled into the sheets like heat-struck animals.