The Incubus System Chapter 1265. Post-orgasm Brain
The Incubus System Chapter 1265. Post-orgasm Brain
And then—
-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!
“My Lord,” a voice came from behind the ornate chamber doors. “Apologies. But—The Lord of Wrath is here to see you.”
I froze.
Syntyche froze.
Then she snorted—actually snorted—and pulled herself up a little on my chest, her body still gripping me. “Tell him to wait,” she called back, voice sweet and venomous. “We are—ahhn—almost finished.”
She clenched around me for emphasis.
I twitched.
Holy Hell, she was evil.
The servant paused.
Then with the smooth dignity of someone who’d clearly walked in on worse, he said, “Understood,” and vanished like a damn professional.
I groaned and buried my face in her neck. “You’re the worst.”
She kissed my cheek. “You’re still hard.”
“That’s not fair. I’m cursed.”
She moved her hips—slow and deep. “And you’re not done.”
I wasn’t.
Not until we finished this sixth round properly.
So yeah. I f*cked her against the wall.
Again.
No hesitation.
My hands braced on the smooth obsidian webbing, her legs wrapped around my waist, and I just moved. Her back arched against the stone, sweat trailing down between her breasts as her nails dug into my shoulders.
It was fast. Brutal. Quiet except for the wet slaps and the soft, breaking sounds she made in my ear every time I bottomed out.
We weren’t making love.
We were sealing a deal.
Like our bodies refused to stop until we were sure this thing between us wasn’t just lust or timing—it was… something bigger.
And right at the peak—right as she gasped again, her core fluttering around me—
I came.
Hard.
Groaning into her neck as my hips pressed tight against hers, releasing deep inside her like I needed to leave a part of me there.
We stayed like that.
Pressed together.
Breathing heavy.
“Now,” she panted, resting her head against the stone, “you can go talk to Wrath.”
“I’m still inside you.”
“I know,” she smirked. “Let him wait a few more seconds.”
But we didn’t get the luxury.
Outside, the unmistakable rattle of magic flared. The crack of a spell barrier, followed by a shout.
“Wait! My Lord—please! Let me announce you—!”
“You,” Then the voice came. “You said she was with the crown prince. I know the Prince’s aura. And this?” His voice dropped an octave. “This isn’t him. It’s… different. Familiar, but wrong.”
Then…
-Boom!
The door shattered.
A wave of heat and red aura blasted into the room, slamming every torch against the wall and curling the silken curtains in on themselves. My wings twitched, my body still hypersensitive, my brain still floating somewhere between afterglow and absolute panic.
Because in strode him.
Azrael.
Lord of Wrath.
Towering. Horned. Eyes glowing like molten rubies.
He stopped.
His nose wrinkled.
His eyes scanned the room.
Took in the wreckage.
The smell of sweat and sex.
The ripped sheets.
The ruin of Syntyche’s hair.
Her legs still slightly parted.
And me—cock still inside her, breathing heavily, wings out, shirtless, flushed.
Syntyche didn't even bother covering herself. She leaned back against the me and casually rolled her eyes. “You could’ve waited outside like a normal person.”
I slowly raised my hand. “Hey. Long time no see.”
Azrael blinked.
Then noticed something else.
His eyes dropped to my back.
To the wings.
The glowing white-gold, half-translucent feathered wings still stretching out behind me. The ones I hadn't even realized were out until now. Post-orgasm brain forgot to hide the angel part.
His expression snapped.
His Wrath aura exploded.
Tentacles of crimson energy surged out from his back, roaring like dragonfire with fury, heat, violence. They whipped toward me like blades made of emotion—pure unfiltered rage.
“Angel?!” he bellowed.
I cursed. “Shit—no—wait—!”
I threw my hands up and cast Shadow Barrier just in time.
[You have formed a barrier]
The first tentacle slammed into it, cracking the air with force, the whole chamber vibrating under the impact.
“Okay!” I shouted over the sound of magical violence. “Everyone calm down! It’s me! Damian!”
Azrael froze.
Only slightly.
His tentacles stopped a few inches from tearing me in half.
“…Damian?” he repeated, eyes narrowing. “You?”
“Yeah! That one! Incubus. Royal. Very naked. By the way—can we not kill me until I pull out?”
Azrael’s expression flickered between confusion and fury.
Then realization.
“You’re a Nephilim?!”
“Broke the seal,” I said, exhaling slowly. “Kinda forgot to mention it to you. Surprise?”
He stepped closer.
The heat of his aura licked my skin.
He wasn’t attacking now, but he wasn't chill either.
“But you're the crown prince, right?”
“Yes.”
“You turned on the angel side.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been hiding this?”
“Until recently.”
“You f*cked a demoness while glowing with angel wings.”
“She started it.”
Syntyche snorted behind me. “He really did try to behave.”
Azrael looked like he wanted to punch something.
Preferably me.
His nostrils flared.
“You better have a damn good explanation.”
“I have several,” I said, gently pulling myself out of Syntyche with a groan and quickly using my Demon’s Clothes skills. “But I’m not explaining anything with post-sex sweat still on me and her cum dripping down my—”
He raised a hand. “Enough.”
Silence.
Syntyche sighed. “Boys and their drama.”
I turned to her. “You good?”
She gave a lazy thumbs-up. “Can’t feel my legs, but emotionally? Great.”
“Perfect.” I looked back to Azrael. “Look, I get this is a lot, but I’m not your enemy. And I didn’t fall. I ascended. It’s… complicated.”
“You smell like both heaven and hell,” he growled. “Do you even know what you are anymore?”
“Yeah,” I said, squaring up, wings slowly folding behind me.
His jaw tightened.
His aura dipped.
“Still me. Just upgraded.”
“…Tch.” He turned away, muttering under his breath. “You’re lucky I didn’t spear you through the d*ck.”
“Honestly, so am I.”
“And I still might,” he added, glaring over his shoulder. “If I find out you’re lying.”
I chuckled weakly. “Yeah. Good to see you too. Let’s talk like civilized beings.”
Azrael glanced to us and grimaced.
“Fine. Just cover up.” He turned around and shook his head. “I need bleach for my eyes.”