The Incubus System Chapter 1264. Unrestrained
The Incubus System Chapter 1264. Unrestrained
She kept moving.
Yeah, the way she kept moving.
Like her body was sculpted for this—this exact rhythm, this obscene, perfect grind that had her folds fluttering around me, tightening just when she rolled down hard enough to make my brain short.
Every time I thought I had a grip on my sanity, she’d do it again—clench, circle, drag the entire length of me with the kind of friction that made my toes curl.
Like I was trying to keep composure in a hurricane of heat.
And yeah, I was moving too.
But it wasn’t like her.
Mine was erratic.
Wild.
Unrestrained.
I was thrusting up into her now, not even thinking about it—just needing.
Needing more.
More of her. More of the way she moaned when I hit deep. More of the way her whole body reacted to me.
I didn’t know why I was like this.
No—scratch that. I did.
I was hungry.
And not just for her.
For all of them. All my women.
Not just their bodies. Their touch. Their scent. Their voices. Their skin on mine, nails, lips, tongues. I wanted to drown in them, roll in them like sin and silk.
It wasn’t about release—it was about connection. A craving down to my bones. Like I’d been holding back for so long and didn’t even realize it until now.
It was ironic, really.
I was a Nephilim now.
And somehow I was more insatiable than when I was a regular incubus.
Why?
Because, for the first damn time since all of this started—
I felt safe.
Zatan was dead. Beel was ash. Puriel was free. I finally secured my place—my throne.
Sure, the capital was still a mess. Some rebuilding. But that was logistics. Not threats.
This?
This was peace.
The first real one in forever.
And in this moment, naked and half-mad inside the Spider Queen who currently rode me like her life depended on it, I felt it.
I didn’t need to think.
Didn’t need to fight.
I just needed to feel.
And f*ck, I was feeling everything.
Her hands tangled in my hair now, pulling my face up toward her.
“You’re distracted,” she growled, lips brushing mine, her voice low and feral. “I can feel it. Your rhythm’s all over the place.”
Of course she noticed.
I gave a rough exhale and smirked against her mouth. “Sorry.”
Then I flipped us.
Hard.
She squealed— that sound—and landed on her back in the center of the bed, her hair spilling out around her like dark fire. I didn’t waste time. I grabbed her thighs, hiked them high over my shoulders, and slammed back into her in one brutal, wet thrust.
She gasped.
And I leaned down, breath hot against her throat. “I’ll focus now.”
“Oh f*ck—”
“Say my name.”
“D-damian—”
“The other one.”
“Ethan—!”
“There we go.”
I wrecked her.
Or maybe she wrecked me. I’m not even sure anymore.
It became a blur of moans, skin slapping skin, tangled limbs, and whispered curses that turned into screams. I moved like a demon unleashed—grinding into her, pulling her up so I could angle deeper, harder, until I felt her walls convulsing again.
I played with her chest, sucking one nipple into my mouth while pinching the other. My hand slid down between us, fingers circling her clit—soft at first, then fast, tight little spirals.
She thrashed.
Called my name like she was casting a spell.
And I responded to it.
Her pussy clenched me so hard I swore the world tilted. Wet. Squeezing. Velvet heat dragging me toward the edge like it wanted to claim me completely.
“Say it,” I growled, voice half-mad. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” she cried. “F*ck—Ethan, you! Always—!”
“Good girl.”
I didn’t stop. Not even when she came again—thighs shaking, eyes rolled back, mouth slack from moaning too much. I kept going. Harder. Faster. Like my soul was trying to dig into hers through every thrust.
Round three blurred into four.
Four into five.
The sheets were soaked. The bed creaked under us, some strands of silk snapping from how hard I was pushing her into the mattress. Her hair stuck to my neck. Her nails raked red lines across my back. And still—we moved.
I didn't care about sound.
But even if the whole damn city heard?
Too late for shame now.
By round six I was panting like a beast. My hips moved on instinct, deep and fast, wet slaps echoing through the chamber as her legs wrapped tight around my waist.
She was babbling.
“Y-you’re… hnnn—still hard?!”
I gave a crooked grin. “Did you think my Level 5 Demonic Erection came with a cooldown?”
Her eyes widened. She burst out laughing, even while moaning.
“F*cking cheat,” she gasped.
“Don’t blame the cheat,” I said, biting her shoulder just enough to leave a mark. “Blame the one who earned it.”
She tightened around me again.
Like her body was agreeing.
My vision was swimming now. She looked ruined—sweaty, flushed, glowing with leftover aura and glowing bloodrun lines across her inner thighs.
We kissed again.
Messy. Breathless. Addicted.
I brushed a few strands of her sweaty hair off her cheek. She blinked up at me, lips kiss-bruised and eyelids heavy.
“You okay?” I asked, voice rough but soft.
She snorted. “I can’t feel my spine. You broke me.”
I kissed her collarbone. “I’ll cast Dark Healing later.”
She lazily slapped my chest. “Later?”
“Yeah. We are still having sex.”
She laughed. I laughed. And yeah… it felt real.
That warm, deep kind of real that didn’t need drama or destiny or demons to feel important.
But right when I thought we could drift for a bit—
My system flared.
[Alert: High-Level Signature Detected]
[Race: Demon Lord Class]
[Threat Level: Variable]
I blinked.
Then sighed.
Syntyche groaned. “Oh f*ck me—who now?”
“Apparently, we got a guest.”