10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 134- Thalia Left

She flinched—a sharp, visible tremor—but her mind was too far gone to truly register the sensation.

Her eyes remained locked on the words he was writing. Sentence after sentence, the dark ink bloomed across the soft skin of her hand like a brand. They were orders—commands too shameful to mutter, too raw to imagine without a fresh wave of heat staining her cheeks.

Her breath caught. She blinked, the reality of the script finally sinking in.

"Wait... I-I can’t say these things," she whispered. Her voice cracked, thin and fragile. Her free hand instinctively reached up, fingers fumbling to pull the edges of her blouse over her exposed chest.

Cruxius didn’t look up. He finished the final stroke of the sentence and tossed the pen aside. It clattered against the wood, the only sound in the suffocating silence.

"You told me you love me," he said, his tone dangerously calm.

Her throat tightened, a dry swallow clicking in the quiet. "I do," she said. The words came out too quickly, a desperate attempt to anchor herself.

"Then show me." His words were light, almost conversational, but they cut through her defenses. "You want me to believe you? Make me believe it."

She glanced down again at the lines staining her palm.

The sentences weren’t just vulgar—they were designed to strip away her pride. Each word was a calculated strike against her principles, a test to see exactly how much of her soul she would trade for his favor.

For a moment, the air felt too thick to breathe.

"I... I don’t know if I can," she admitted, her voice shrinking until it was barely audible.

Cruxius moved closer. He wasn’t rough, but his proximity was overwhelming. His hand reached out, fingers grazing the underside of her breast as he caught the edge of her fallen blouse.

His knuckles brushed the underside of her nipple—whether by accident or cruel design, she couldn’t be sure—and the contact forced a sharp gasp from her. A soft, involuntary moan escaped her throat before she could choke it back.

Her back arched, her body reacting to him even as her mind recoiled.

He smoothed the fabric over her chest with agonizing slowness. He let the cotton cling to the damp sheen of her skin, the material turning slightly translucent where her sweat and heavy breaths had soaked through.

But his hand didn’t leave her.

He pressed his palm flat against her chest, right above the frantic thudding of her heart. He held her there, feeling the way she hammered against her own ribs, trapped and helpless.

"Seleyena," he said, his voice dropping to a low, burning hum. "Please. Do it for me." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

And then—he pulled.

His hand fisted the fabric over her heart and yanked her toward him. The motion was sudden, stealing the very air from her lungs. Her body lurched forward, eyes flying wide as a startled cry died in her throat.

"Wha—!"

He didn’t give her the chance to finish.

His mouth slammed onto hers—hot, demanding, and utterly dominant. He silenced her shock with a kiss that devoured her hesitation, leaving her with nothing but the taste of him and the weight of the words on her hand.

"Mmphh—"

KRIEEK—the heavy door to the room swung open.

Present.

"He didn’t," Seleyena cut in, her voice gaining a sharp, defensive edge. "He didn’t touch you again after that night. He didn’t even mention it. He never humiliated you. Never threatened you. He respected you—when he didn’t have to."

Thalia’s breath came in ragged, shaky hitches. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her fingers digging into her sleeves as if trying to hold her crumbling composure together.

Seleyena’s voice softened, but the words were no less piercing. "Do you know how easily he could’ve made you his sex slave, Thalia? No cameras. No escape. Just luxury prisons and forced moans. And the world would still call him a hero. But he didn’t."

Thalia’s knees visibly trembled.

Her face twisted—a messy tangle of shame, anger, and a realization she wasn’t ready to face. Her lips parted, searching for a rebuttal, but her throat remained tight and silent.

"I know you hate what happened," Seleyena whispered, stepping closer. "You’re allowed to. But don’t lie to yourself about the kind of man he is. Because somewhere inside you... you already know."

Thalia’s voice was a hoarse, broken shadow of itself. "Then why are you telling me this?"

Seleyena stepped back, a long, shaky exhale escaping her. "Because I... I—"

She turned her eyes toward Cruxius. Her hands clenched at her sides, knuckles turning white with hesitation. Then, she spoke the words that felt like a final surrender.

"I want to make sure you don’t come back... He is... mine."

The declaration hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

Seleyena’s throat bobbed. She wrapped one arm across her midriff, her fingers gripping her own side as if the words had physically drained her.

She shifted her weight nervously, the quiet rustle of her clothes the only sound in the room.

She didn’t look at Cruxius. Instead, she watched Thalia, whose mouth hung slightly open, her lips trembling with a dozen unvoiced questions.

Thalia blinked, her expression blank with shock.

"I... I will take my leave," she whispered, her voice sounding scraped raw.

She turned and retreated. There was no fire left in her, just the quiet, hurried steps of someone who needed to flee before they broke apart entirely.

The door clicked shut, the sound echoing through the room.

Seleyena let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for a lifetime. Her shoulders slumped, but it wasn’t the posture of someone who had won.

She kept her head down, her fingers clenching the hem of her white doctor’s coat. The guilt was a physical weight, curling like cold smoke in her chest.

Had she been too cruel?

Her heart was still racing, the adrenaline of the confrontation turning into a dull, pulsing ache.

Then—

Cruxius was there. He moved like a shadow, making no sound until he was directly behind her.

Her body jolted.

A hand—brutal and heavy—clamped over her breast right through the fabric of her blouse. His fingers dug in deep, kneading the soft flesh until it bulged between his digits. He crushed her so tightly her nipples slammed against the flat of his palm, the sensation sharp enough to steal her breath.

"Ah—! Crux—"

The air left her in a broken sob.

Before she could recover, his other hand dove beneath the hem of her skirt. There was no hesitation, no gentle lead-in.

Two fingers mashed firmly against her clothed slit. He began to rub in harsh, demanding circles, dragging the fabric against her sensitive skin with a friction that was far from comfortable.

He wasn’t teasing. He was claiming. He used deep, punishing strokes that forced her wetness to soak through the barrier of her underwear, marking her.

His body pressed into her back—solid, radiating heat that felt like silk over steel.

His lips hovered just against the shell of her ear. His breath was dark, ragged.

"You proved your love, Seleyena..."

He squeezed her breast one last time, a sharp reminder of who she belonged to.

"...Now it’s my turn."