The lounge was quiet, save for the distant, rhythmic bass of moans echoing behind the velvet-draped rooms beyond. Time seemed to still inside these private walls. The noise, the world, the stage—all of it faded. All that remained was the hum of tension as Carmilla Vayne stood before Kenji.
Her gaze was unwavering, confident, slow in its assessment of him. Kenji didn't move either. He let her take him in—like a lion letting another predator circle. They were two creatures who didn't fear being hunted. They welcomed it.
Her voice was satin wrapped around steel. "I don't kneel."
Kenji's lips curled into a slow, amused grin. "Then I'll make you crawl."
Her brow arched. "Cocky. That'll get you bruised."
He stepped closer, his chest brushing hers. "That'll get me wet."
The spark caught, and they collided again—tongue, breath, fire. But this time there was no tenderness. She tasted of red wine and danger. Her mouth bit back, lips parted, tongue teasing control as if daring him to take it. He accepted.
Kenji shoved her against the padded wall, his hands sliding under the slit of her dress, gripping her ass firmly. She gasped—not out of shock, but arousal—grinding against his thigh with sinuous precision. She wasn't just playing hard to get. She was hard to win.
Her hand found his belt.
"I heard you're rough," she purred.
"I heard you don't moan," he countered.
Her smile was sharp. "Then one of us is leaving disappointed."
---
She pushed him to the velvet bed in the center of the room, straddling him like a queen claiming her throne. Her hands moved to undo his shirt, one button at a time—never rushing, never flustered. Just calm, deliberate control.
Kenji let her.
He leaned back, shirt parting to reveal muscle like sculpted marble. Years of street fights, ring brawls, and jail-cell tension carved into every inch of him. Carmilla's fingers traced along his abs, slow and appreciating.
"You're prettier than I expected," she murmured.
"I'm worse than you fear."
She leaned down and kissed his jaw, then dragged her tongue along his neck. He felt her breath warm against his skin, smelled the faint perfume of vanilla and spice. Her body was molten against his—every movement of her hips a silent challenge.
Her hand slipped under his waistband, wrapping around him.
"Oh…"
Her voice cracked.
Just a little.
Her eyes flickered. Not fear. Respect.
Kenji sat up.
He gripped her throat—not tightly, but firmly, enough to tilt her chin up so their eyes met. "Now I know why they say no man's made you moan."
"Oh?" she smirked, despite the pressure on her neck.
"Because they were boys."
---
He flipped her.
One smooth motion had her on her back, dress hiked up, heels still on. He dragged her panties down slowly, watching every inch of fabric peel from her skin like he was unwrapping a forbidden prize.
Carmilla didn't resist. Her legs parted willingly. Her eyes didn't break from his. Not once.
Then his mouth was on her.
No teasing. No preamble.
Just heat, tongue, and expert strokes from a man who studied her body like scripture.
Her breath hitched. One hand clenched the sheets.
He didn't stop. Didn't slow. He used the skill system's Whisper Corruption, murmuring filth between licks.
"You taste like power. But you'll sound like submission."
Her body tensed, arched, then fell again. Her thighs trembled.
She was close.
Kenji knew.
He gripped her hips tighter, devouring her until the first moan spilled out of her lips—a soft, guttural sound. She tried to swallow it.
But it came again. Louder.
The system chimed:
[Carmilla Vayne: Arousal Level – 78%] [Status: Voice Unlocked – First Moan Achieved]
He pulled away, lips wet, chin glistening with her arousal.
She looked dazed.
He leaned in.
"I'll make you cum from eating you alone."
"You won't," she gasped.
He went back down.
Five minutes later, she screamed.
Not performed. Not acted.
Raw.
She gripped his head as her body convulsed, legs locking around his neck as the orgasm tore through her like lightning. He held her through it, never pausing.
When it was over, she collapsed, trembling.
Then she laughed.
A broken, breathless laugh.
"Well," she said, voice hoarse. "You've got my attention."
He kissed her inner thigh.
"I'm not done."
---
They went again—this time, with him inside her. Deep, slow strokes that hit every nerve she thought had gone numb over the years. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands clawing at his back. She was louder now. Her voice, trained to act, failed to lie.
He whispered into her ear.
Filthy promises. Commands.
"Touch your tits. Harder."
"Call me master."
"Beg to cum again."
And she did.
Each time, she fought it. And each time, she lost.
By the time they were done, she'd cum four times.
The room smelled of sweat, sex, and conquest.
Kenji sat back on the couch, bare-chested, cock still semi-hard, watching her gather herself. She stood slowly, trembling slightly in her heels.
"Fuck," she whispered. "You're not human."
He said nothing.
She turned to him, brushing hair behind her ear. For the first time, she looked humbled.
"You won," she said quietly. "I don't kneel. But I will speak for you."
Then she leaned down, kissed his cheek, and whispered:
"You'll own this industry in a year. If it doesn't break first."
---
[System Update: Influencer Tier – Carmilla Vayne Acquired] [New Passive: Succubus Endorsement – Fame Gain +50%, Elite Access Unlocked]
[New Video Released – "Succubus Break: Kenji x Carmilla (Private Session)"]
Views: 2.4M (in 6 hours) Rating: 9.9/10 Comments: "He made Carmilla moan. It's over for everyone else."
---
Back in his apartment, Kenji leaned against the window, looking down at the glowing city.
His phone buzzed again.
Unknown Contact: I want next. – Hina Valentine
He smirked.
One queen had fallen.
Others were watching.