Seven Sins System Chapter 770. Worshipped

Seven Sins System Chapter 770. Worshipped

She jumped into my arms, legs wrapping around me like she knew she had seconds before I lost all control again.

“Please,” she whispered. “Me too—”

I pinned her to the wall.

And she screamed.

Beautiful. Ruined. Perfect.

And when she sagged, boneless and overwhelmed, I caught Katrina’s gaze.

She didn’t smile.

She stepped forward in silence and knelt at my feet.

And I smiled.

Because this?

This was mine.

Katrina didn’t ask. She didn’t beg. She just looked up at me, eyes wide, trembling with need, and waited. Not out of fear. Out of faith. That I’d take her next. That I’d finish what I started.

I did.

Fifteen rounds blurred into something feral. Something beyond counting.

They worshipped me with lips and tongues and clawed fingers. One at my throat. One at my chest. One between my thighs. At times they moved as one, synchronized like dancers trained in the dark, kissing, sucking, grinding, whispering. My name. My title. Their sin.

Azrael.

My lord.

Master.

Please.

Sometimes I forgot who was where.

Because it didn’t matter.

I broke them again and again. Every single one of them.

Penelope sobbed into my chest with her legs still shaking.

Katrina bit down when she came, not hard enough to pierce, but hard enough to leave a mark.

Red took everything I gave and asked for more, her body glowing with the high of too many orgasms, too much pleasure, not enough sanity left to filter it.

There was blood.

My blood.

They all fed from it.

Little sips between rounds. On my neck. My wrist. One of them, maybe Red, licked it from my lips after kissing me so hard we both lost air.

I didn’t stop.

Couldn’t.

Something inside me had cracked. Not shattered. No. More like… something had unlocked. Power I hadn’t tasted in centuries. Passion I thought buried. Hunger, raw and without filter. All of it, flooding me at once.

It wasn’t just lust.

It was mine.

The sound of their moans. The sharp slap of skin on skin. The creak of the desk, the shudder of the walls, the way the air got heavier with each climax until it felt like the room might implode from heat and magic alone.

And when it finally ended, when every drop of stamina had been wrung out, when they couldn’t beg anymore, when even my muscles were burning from overuse…

We collapsed.

Onto the couch.

I didn’t even remember moving there.

Just a blur of bodies, blood, breath, sweat. And then stillness. Heavy, sacred stillness.

I sat in the center, sprawled like a war god after the carnage.

Red curled up on my right, her head against my shoulder, cheek resting on the mark she’d left earlier.

Katrina slumped to my left, one leg draped over mine, her nails still trailing idle lines across my chest.

Penelope sat across my lap, leaning back against me, eyes half-lidded, mouth swollen, hair a wreck. My arm was around her waist, holding her in place more out of instinct than choice.

The room was a mess.

The desk was cracked.

Clothes? Gone.

Sweat glistened on all three of them. Their bodies still twitching, lips still parted. Every breath came out slow. Deep. Like they were relearning how to exist without pleasure pumping through their veins.

I looked down at Penelope. Her cheeks were flushed, her thighs still sticky. She looked… dazed. But happy.

Red purred softly beside me, her nails drawing lazy circles on my thigh.

“You broke the couch,” she whispered.

“No,” Katrina muttered. “That was Penelope.”

“I didn’t mean to—” Penelope tried to say.

“You screamed my name,” I said, voice raw. “Twice.”

She covered her face.

Red giggled.

Katrina chuckled too, though hers sounded more like a sigh.

My eyes drifted to the far wall. To the large crack running through one of the hanging paintings. The frame had fallen at some point. I didn’t even remember when.

The smell in the air was thick. Sweat, blood, sex, ozone, heat. All of it clinging to the walls like incense from a ritual that had gone far, far too deep.

Red turned her face into my neck. “You smell like fire.”

“You taste like wine,” I murmured.

“You came too much,” Penelope whispered, her voice light and teasing.

I smiled.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not,” Katrina said, tilting her head, eyes gleaming. “It was beautiful.”

I leaned back further into the couch.

Let the silence settle again.

The kind of silence that wasn’t awkward. Just… full. Of heat. Of satisfaction. Of everything we didn’t need to say anymore.

My hand drifted down, brushing Red’s waist.

“I should go,” I said softly.

They all stilled.

“To the Shadow Realm,” I added.

No one moved. But I felt it. The subtle shift in their bodies. That tightness in their chests. The quiet panic they tried to hide.

Red’s fingers curled around my wrist gently.

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s your domain,” Katrina said quietly. “But this… this can be your sanctuary.”

Penelope looked up at me, eyes softer now.

“Stay a little longer,” she murmured.“Please.”

I didn’t answer.

Not right away.

My gaze wandered across the broken desk. The shattered lamp. The overturned chair.

A part of me… the old part, the one buried under chains of control and diplomacy and discipline… wanted to go. Wanted to vanish back into the shadows and pretend none of this ever happened. That I hadn’t let go. That I hadn’t let myself feel this much.

But another part?

The part wrapped in warm limbs and soft gasps and whispered my name over and over like a hymn?

That part wanted to stay.

I looked down at them again.

Penelope’s head rested against my chest now, her fingers playing with the ends of my hair.

Katrina traced idle patterns on my stomach, her eyes closed.

Red’s breath had evened out, her body curled tightly against mine like she couldn’t bear to lose contact.

I let out a slow breath.

“Fine,” I said.