The first sensation was heaviness. My body stuck to the silk sheets as if the whole night had pinned me there, soaked with dried sweat and lingering stench of cum. I opened my eyes with difficulty, my eyelids gummed up by fatigue, and the room imposed itself on me in a diffuse light. Nothing like the woven huts I'd passed through when entering this damned village. Here, everything breathed excess. Polished wood, walls carved with vegetal motifs, colored veils hanging from the beams, fresh flowers heaped in bark vases. A miniature palace, perched in the branches.
I pushed myself up slowly, breath rasping, skin still damp as if my pores were oozing the scarlet night I had crossed. The sheets exhaled a heady perfume of flowers and flesh. With each breath in, I saw again their convulsing bodies, their swollen bellies, their throats open beneath my cries and theirs.
I ran a hand over my bare chest. The seal still throbbed, weak but stubborn, like a glowing heart under the skin. And the thought struck me at once, dry, clear:
— I was consumed. Swallowed by Lust. When I unleash too much, I become a beast.
I let myself fall back against the headboard, a bitter laugh escaping my dry throat. Yes, a beast. I'd lost all control yesterday, and yet… I smiled. Because in that chaos, two things had been accomplished. Two successes that, for the first time, made me feel this world obeyed something other than its blind cruelty.
The first was my power.
Until now, it served only to inject Lust. A bite, a discharge, small or large, but always the same end: fill a womb, inflame a body. Useful against the weak, yes… but useless against the strong. For a solid opponent, I would never have the time to possess him, to fill him at will. He would break me before my hands even closed on him.
But yesterday, emptying myself to the point of brushing trance, piling up energy to suffocation, something gave way. The first tier.
I lowered my eyes to the seal, stroking it with my fingertips. The runes there pulsed faintly, but a new warmth sprang from it, different. Finer. Sharper.
— Scarlet Illusion.
I closed my eyes, and the room tilted. Two silhouettes sprang up before me, clear then trembling, like specters projected by a wavering flame. A man. A woman. Their outlines pulsed, blurred, their limbs twisting like badly decoded images. They froze for a second, long enough to stare me down with their smudged faces… then everything dissipated, swallowed by the void.
Thirty seconds. No more.
I snorted, shaking my head. Weak, yes. Pathetic even. But not useless. Because I knew. The further I'd go, the more Lust would devour me, the more this illusion would grow with me. One day, perhaps, these shades would be armies.
I ran a hand over my still-dry lips, staring at the emptiness where the silhouettes had just vanished.
— This is only a beginning…
A slight noise split the silence. Two sharp knocks at the door, almost timid, as if the very idea of entering my room required a ritual. I raised my head, muscles still numb from my night, and the handle turned softly. The door opened onto her.
Lyanna.
She stepped into the dim light of the room, and at once I noticed she had nothing of those hysterical huntresses who had chased me in the forest. Her step was supple, measured, almost graceful, but her outfit betrayed an indecency that even the village veils failed to conceal. Her dress was fine, so light it clung to skin damp with dew. Her bare shoulders caught the reflections of the luminous lianas, her pale thighs appeared with each movement, offered by the slit of the fabric that parted as if by accident.
My gaze fixed on her in spite of me. No exaggeration, no monstrous bosom like those pressed against me the day before. No. With her, it was perfect balance: a slender silhouette, a delicate waist, curves that promised more than they gave. Her breasts, however, stood out clearly beneath the damp dress, two firm tips betraying the morning's coolness.
She gave me a shy smile, lips barely parted, and her voice flowed like clear water:
— "Breakfast is ready. Mother is waiting for you at the table."
I straightened further, the sheets sliding from my waist, and I saw her eyes widen for an instant before she looked away, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I stifled a laugh. Even here, even in this village where women lived naked in the damp heat, a sliver of modesty remained in her. A purity almost insulting, when one knew her mother.
I let my eyes take her in without hiding it, half serious, half mocking. Her fine legs, her hips too young yet to rival the matrons of the village, but already marked with that feline suppleness proper to nymphs. I thought, a smile at the corner of my lips:
— So this is my second success.
The first had been catching the eye of Elandra, the chief. Which had earned me this luxurious room, more gilded cage than favor. The second stood before me: her daughter. In the game, hundreds of players had torn their hair out over this cursed village. A prison with no exit, a trap of flesh and voluptuousness. Many preferred to delete their character than endure years here. Until someone found the solution: the chief's daughter.
I narrowed my eyes, catching her skittish look again. She had no idea what she represented. But I did.
The key.
The key to get out of this perfumed hell.
A rough breath escaped me, half amusement, half desire. My gaze slid once more over the curve of her breasts straining beneath the silk.
Arriving in the dining room, the massive table occupied the center of the space. Carved from a polished tree trunk, it breathed sap and power, as if the roots of the world had put themselves at this house's service. Steaming dishes were already set out: split fruits, juicy berries, grilled meats still shining with fat. Everything exuded a sweet and animal smell, a mix of royal banquet and tribal feast.
Elandra sat enthroned at its end, imposing, elbows on the wood, her golden gaze fixed on me with icy steadiness. She didn't need words to crush. Her huge chest lay half bare against the ivory necklace, her hips overflowed the woven loincloth, and yet it wasn't her body that weighed the most. It was her silence. A silence that measured every movement, every breath I dared take.
Lyanna, meanwhile, moved around us. She set down dishes, her slender arms barely trembling under the weight of the trays. Her light dress slid along her thighs, revealing by flashes the beginning of her pale legs. I followed her gestures, deliberately, letting my eyes linger on the curve of her backside when she bent over, on her firm breasts bouncing under the damp fabric. She felt it. I saw it in the flush rising up her neck, in her lips parting in a discreet breath.
I didn't have time to enjoy it any further.
— "Who do you think you are, ogling my daughter like that?"
Elandra's voice cracked like a whip. Cold. Dry. Without an outburst of anger, but charged with a heavy, palpable threat. My fingers tightened for a second on the wood of the table.
I calmly raised my eyes to her. My smile was measured, deliberately provocative.
— "She takes after you," I answered in an even voice. "She's as beautiful as you."
Her pupils narrowed. A silence fell, so dense you could almost hear it creak. Lyanna, frozen behind me, clutched a tray to her chest like a shield.
— "Be careful," Elandra said at last, her tone low and growling. "I don't like flatterers."
I slouched back into my chair, crossing my arms nonchalantly. My gaze held hers without wavering.
In the game, staying too polite with her doomed you. Here, I must provoke her just enough… remind her I'm not prey.
I let a thin, almost insolent smile slip.
— "This isn't flattery, but a statement. You forged this village in your image: strong, magnificent, cruel. If I'm to die here, I might as well say it with my eyes open."
She pursed her lips, amused despite herself.
— "Die, hm?" She clacked her bracelets against the wood, a dull rhythm that echoed through the room. "The Hunt wasn't enough for you?"
— "The Hunt was only a prelude." I tilted my head slightly, my voice low but firm. "If I'm still alive after last night, it's not by chance."
A glint crossed her eyes, half challenge, half curiosity. She weighed me the way one weighs a weapon picked up on a battlefield: dangerous perhaps, useful no doubt, but still to be tested.
— "You talk as if you had a place here," she said, her carnivorous smile baring white teeth.
— "Not as if…" I let my hand rest on the burning seal on my chest, visible above the slightly open veil of my shirt. The red light throbbed faintly. "… but because I already do."
Silence thickened again, broken only by the nervous breath of Lyanna. Elandra didn't look away, but her smile grew thinner, more dangerous.
She had just understood I wasn't here to crawl.
I was here to survive. To defy her. To seduce her, if necessary. And in this game, none of her rules would keep me on a leash.
I spent the whole day reading whatever books I could find, keeping myself busy as best I could, doing a bit of exercise as well.
Then night came.
Elandra's chamber reeked of opulence. Red veils descended from the ceiling like tongues of flame, rustling faintly under the drafts. Resin lamps burned in the corners, releasing a heavy, spicy perfume that clung to the throat. The wooden floor was strewn with cushions, with split fruits whose dark juice dripped like dried blood. It looked like a priestess's lair… or a beast's bed.
She entered without warning. Her imposing silhouette sliced through the veils, her huge breasts swaying freely beneath a necklace of teeth, her wide hips sheathed in fabric too tight, already gleaming with sweat. Her golden eyes fixed on me with glacial hardness, but her parted lips betrayed the fever growling in her. She didn't wait for me to speak.
— "You think you have a place here?" she breathed, her hoarse voice vibrating like a drum.
I sat up, propped against the wood of the bed, and a thin smile split my face.
— "I don't need to think so. I'm not here for nothing, after all."
She snickered, a feline rictus at the corner of her mouth, then suddenly leaned in, her lips crashing against mine. Her kiss was brutal, feverish, almost a bite. Her tongue ravaged my mouth, greedy, without gentleness. I answered, gripping her by the nape, and a growl escaped her, rough, animal.
I let my lips slide along her cheek, then her throat. Her breath broke, panting, as my mouth descended slowly, tracing a path over her damp skin. I licked her collarbone, bit the firm swell of her shoulder. She moaned, low, a guttural sound:
— "Nhhh… keep going… lick me…"
My lips continued their descent. I tasted the valley of her huge breasts, slick with sweat. I took a stiff nipple into my mouth, nibbling, drawing a shrill cry from her throat.
— "Aaahhh…! Yes… take them… my breasts…!"
I lingered over every curve, every hollow, going lower. Her gleaming belly shivered under my tongue, her hardened abs tightening with each kiss. I slid further down, brushing the top of her loincloth with my mouth, and she pulled the fabric aside herself, exposing her pussy already swollen with heat.
A sharp and sweet scent at once rose to my nostrils. I locked my eyes on hers, then bent in. My tongue brushed her clit, slowly. She jolted as if struck by lightning, her hands seizing my hair.
— "Aaahhh…! Fuck… yes… lick…!"
I circled it with my mouth, sucking softly, shifting pressures. Her hips rolled on their own, seeking more contact. I licked her at length, in circles, then in quick strokes, swallowing her moans.
— "Nnnnhhh…! Harder… ohhh…!" Her voice broke into sobs of pleasure, her back arching against the cushions.
I slid a finger into her, slowly. Her pussy throbbed around me at once, tight, burning. She cried out, thighs spread to the limit.
— "Aaahhh…! Yes… in me…!"
I kept eating her, my tongue on her clit, while pushing in a second finger. Her whole body arched, her huge chest lifting in an uncontrollable spasm. Her nails raked my nape, pulling my head harder against her.
— "Hhhhaaahhh… I… I'm going to… come…!"
Her thighs trembled, her abs went rigid, and she exploded. Her cry filled the room, her hips breaking against my mouth, her pussy clenching furiously around my fingers. I drank her, bit her clit lightly, until she collapsed for a moment, trembling, panting, lips parted.
I straightened, my mouth slick with her taste. My eyes in hers, I breathed:
— "Take my cock… and put it in you."
She moaned, her gaze blazing, and seized my rigid sex with a feverish hand. She guided my gleaming shaft between her swollen lips, and with a sharp plunge, she impaled herself.
— "Aaaaahhh…! Yesss… your cock…!"
I growled, grabbing her hips, and pounded her at once, without respite. She screamed with every thrust, her massive breasts bouncing against my chest. Her nails tore at my back, her breath ripped.
— "Harder…"
I slammed again, my cum rising, each push echoing through my loins like a discharge. She arched, her thighs squeezing me, her cries breaking into sobs.
— "Aaahhh… yes…! Fill me… make me come again…!"
I arched in a final spasm, my cock exploding inside her. My cum burst out, brutal, swelling her belly under my blows. She howled, her cry breaking into a guttural rattle, and her body convulsed around me.
And we did not stop.
Still panting, still slick, our bodies sought each other again. She rode me, I flipped her, she bit my throat, I made her scream as I crushed her against the cushions. All night, our moans followed one another, our bodies crashed together without end. Each time I emptied myself in her, she laughed, drunk, to demand even more. Each time she came, I took her harder, more brutally, until dawn finally slipped between the red veils.
And even then, her belly still trembled with my seed, her thighs shook with pleasure, and my loins burned with an insatiable hunger.