10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 130- Devil’s Tease

Her voice broke pathetically against his lips, soft and breathy, a helpless, dirty little moan escaping her throat before she could even try to stop it.

Cruxius felt it vibrate against his mouth. He groaned deeply into her, the dark sound heavy and hungry, pulling her even closer, tighter, until there wasn’t a single millimeter of space left between her soft curves and his hard angles.

One large hand moved up, aggressively groping the heavy swell of her breast right through her thin silk blouse. His rough fingers squeezed and kneaded the plush flesh until her highly sensitive nipple instantly stiffened, pressing into a hard, aching peak beneath the sheer fabric. His palm rolled over it again and again, greedy and agonizingly slow.

His other hand slid dangerously low, gripping the soft, full cheek of her ass—yanking the fabric of her pencil skirt dangerously high as he forcefully ground her trembling hips directly against the thick, sheet-covered bulge already straining heavily beneath him.

Her bare thighs trembled.

Her mouth was an absolute mess—his dominant tongue swirling, aggressively tasting her. Each deep, slick pass of it made her knees go infinitely weaker.

Her legs buckled against the bed frame, and she moaned much louder directly into the wet kiss. "Mmm—ah—C-Cruxius—!"

The slurping sounds grew much louder.

Messier.

She couldn’t even breathe. His hot lips moved hungrily, his tongue dragging heavily over hers, thoroughly exploring every single inch of her mouth exactly like he owned it.

She wasn’t even kissing back anymore—he was simply using her plush lips, her desperate tongue, her wet moans, exactly like she was just a sweet delicacy to feast on.

And god—her traitorous body was fiercely reacting to it.

She was incredibly sensitive on the inside, maybe precisely because she had spent her whole life repressing any dirty thoughts about men.

She felt totally dizzy.

Her generous chest heaved against his.

Each heavy, groping squeeze of her breast made her whimper pathetically, her back arching entirely involuntarily to press closer to his hand. And when he shifted his weight very slightly, letting his muscular thigh press flush and hot directly between her trembling legs—

She almost cried out loud.

A heavy, dripping heat flashed violently between her thighs like lightning, instantly soaking the crotch of her lace panties.

Her small hands still pushed against his bare chest—but there was absolutely no physical strength left in them. None at all. She was just holding on.

He finally broke the kiss. A thick, wet string of saliva still intimately connected their tongues before it snapped with a soft, messy little pop. Her lips were parted, completely swollen, and glistening wet. Her face—a deep, flushed red. Her dark eyes—entirely glassy and unfocused.

He looked down at her, grinning exactly like the devil himself.

"You moaned just like that last time too," he said, his voice dark, raspy, and teasing, his broad chest still rising. "Sloppy, sweet little sounds—just exactly like that—when you were bouncing on my cock."

She shook her head—very slowly, entirely dazed—hot tears forming in her eyes again.

"N-No... I totally didn’t... I—"

He leaned right back in, his wet tongue licking her swollen bottom lip agonizingly slow. "Liar."

Then he bit it.

Gently, but enough to make her gasp.

And grinned.

"L-Leave me..." she whimpered.

Her voice cracked completely—quiet, totally breathless—but it came from somewhere deep and desperate.

Her hands trembled visibly against his bare chest, pushing at him feebly. "P-Please... just stop..."

But her flushed body was already violently shaking with need.

He didn’t say a single word.

Not yet.

He released his tight grip on her waist. She stumbled back—half-falling on her heels, half-turning away, as her wrist dragged clumsily across her flushed cheeks, desperately trying to hide the tears already slipping down.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her silk blouse sticking intimately to her skin, now entirely damp with sweat, heat, and crushing shame.

"Why..." her voice broke completely again. "Why did I ever fall for a terrible man like you?"

Her fogged glasses slid entirely to the tip of her nose, barely clinging on as her vision completely blurred behind them. She sniffled quietly, swiping away more hot tears, but they just kept falling.

The cold click of her heels echoed weakly in the sterile room as she tried to retreat toward the door—but her shaking legs simply wouldn’t move fast enough.

They subconsciously didn’t want to leave him.

And then—

A soft rustle of fabric.

She heard him stand up from the bed.

Slowly. Deliberately.

He absolutely didn’t rush. Didn’t speak a word. He just reached casually for his charcoal shirt, sliding it over his broad shoulders exactly like this highly charged moment meant nothing.

Exactly as if her crying was just a pleasant part of the background noise.

As if her desperate tears only made her look infinitely more his.

She barely even noticed when he stepped silently right behind her. Not until she suddenly felt his strong arm curl warmly around her narrow waist and pull backward—not hard, not overly forceful, just entirely inevitable.

He sat heavily on the edge of the mattress, and she landed perfectly right on his lap.

"Ahh—!?"

A sharp gasp slipped from her swollen lips, but his large hand was already moving—sliding effortlessly past her white doctor’s coat, past the tucked hem of her silk blouse, sliding right up beneath the tight, lacy underwire of her bra where her skin was incredibly warm, bare, and trembling.

She froze completely, her breath catching painfully in her throat, as his rough palm finally cupped the heavy, bare flesh of her breast—skin to skin, his fingers spreading wide and possessive exactly like he’d done it a hundred times before, exactly like her body legally belonged to him.

And the absolute worst part? The deeply shameful, burning truth? Her body didn’t even try to fight it.

Not really.

Her sensitive nipple instantly stiffened into a painfully hard peak the exact moment his rough thumb brushed casually across it. A massive, heavy heat bloomed directly in her chest, twisting violently lower, making her bare thighs tense and squeeze together against his lap.

"C-Cruxius..." she whispered, her voice totally cracked and breathless, but he didn’t even blink.

He just pulled her much harder into his lap, her soft back pressed flush against his chest, until she felt absolutely every hard, unyielding inch of him pressed tightly to her spine.

Given the plush, soft curve of her body pressing backward against his firm, chiseled chest, her back instantly yielded, melting and molding perfectly against his hard angles like she was made entirely for his touch.

His strong arms closed tightly around her like a warm cage. One large hand began kneading the heavy, soft weight of her breast in slow, highly deliberate squeezes right through the fabric, while his other hand anchored her narrow waist securely against him, exactly as if she might try to run—which she absolutely wouldn’t.

She never really could.

He leaned down smoothly, brushing her dark hair aside exactly like he truly cared, his warm lips pressing firmly against the sensitive curve of her nape—soft, almost tender, and somehow that rare gentleness broke her far more than his roughness ever could.

Another wet kiss followed, dragging agonizingly lower this time, his hot breath fanning heavily against her flushed skin.

"So you finally accept it," he murmured, his deep voice honey-drenched and incredibly dangerous. "You completely fell for me, huh?"