Lust Sync: Every Woman Wants Me Now-Chapter 42: Forbidden Fire

The scent of roses and sweat lingered in the air, heavy and heady, clinging to the velvet drapes and the silk sheets tangled beneath them. Charles slowly pulled away from the golden-haired duchess sprawled beneath him, her skin flushed and gleaming in the aftermath of their passionate collision. Her breath came in soft, ragged pulls, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of release.

But it wasn’t the pleasure that held Charles’s attention—it was her eyes.

Luciana’s half-lidded gaze, glowing with post-orgasmic warmth, was too focused. Too calculating. Like she was trying to memorize his soul before something tore it away.

"Was that real?" she whispered, her nails still pressed into his skin like she was anchoring herself to him. "Or just the System again?"

Charles smirked and kissed her damp forehead. "Does it matter, if it made you scream like a siren?"

She blushed. But she didn’t smile. Didn’t laugh.

And that was what set his senses flaring.

The silence.

Luciana Valtare, the golden duchess, never stayed quiet after sex. She was the kind who’d tease, taunt, drag him back under the sheets before he’d even fully caught his breath. But now she was sitting up, the silk slipping from her bare chest like it meant nothing, and her expression had changed.

Worry. Conflict. Fear.

He shifted beside her, brushing a strand of damp hair from her cheek. "Luciana. You’re thinking again. Talk to me."

Her eyes dropped for a moment, then she lifted them. "I heard something. In the Grand Hall. Late last night."

Charles froze.

Luciana’s fingers curled around the edge of the sheet like she suddenly needed armor. "The Queen knows, Charles. She knows about me. About the others. About everything."

His pulse didn’t quicken. Not outwardly. But his System spiked with awareness.

"Did she say anything?"

"She summoned you. Personally."

Now that... was new.

Queen Amara Valeth, the Veiled Serpent of the Midnight Empire, didn’t summon people. She commanded from shadows, manipulated through whispers. If she wanted to kill someone, they vanished before the next dawn. But summoning Charles?

That meant she wanted something.

And if she wanted, it meant she wasn’t in control.

Charles stood slowly, baring himself to the fading candlelight. His Lust Sync stats hummed with recent growth—Luciana’s bond had just boosted to [Loyalty Rank: Burning Desire], which meant her feelings were real enough to overwrite the System’s own constraints.

But none of that mattered if the Queen moved first.

He needed to move faster.

---

Three Hours Later — Royal Palace, Midnight Hall

It was like stepping into a cathedral of erotic dread.

The Queen’s throne chamber wasn’t just a court—it was a battlefield of the senses. Scarlet curtains draped from obsidian rafters, gold vines wrapped around black stone columns, and women in red veils danced in slow, sensual patterns under the flickering lights of floating crystal flames. Every motion dripped with seductive warning, a message clear to anyone who dared enter:

Here, power came dressed in beauty—and beauty killed.

At the center sat Queen Amara Valeth.

Her throne was carved from ancient obsidian, veined with glowing runes. She reclined with one leg thrown lazily over the side, her dark hair spilling around her shoulders like midnight ink. Her pale skin shimmered with golden powder, her lips blood red. But it was her eyes—those ancient, impossible eyes—that made even Charles pause.

She didn’t just look at him. She unraveled him.

"Charles," she said, her voice smooth as molten honey and sharp as a blade. "Come forward."

He walked across the long black carpet without a word, the sound of his boots muffled by the velvet. His cloak draped around him, but beneath it, he was bare. His System pulsed with tactical overlays—escape routes, arousal currents, dominance ratios.

He stopped at the base of the throne.

"I assume you know why I’ve summoned you," Amara said.

"I assume you want me to stop," Charles replied coolly.

The Queen’s smile curved like a serpent coiling. "I want you to kneel."

A silence fell over the court.

Even the dancers froze.

Charles didn’t move. "Why?"

Amara stood with a grace that stole the breath from the room. Her gown unraveled from her shoulders like falling water, cascading to the floor until she stood bare under the enchanted moonlight that filtered in through crystal skylights.

Her body was divine. Not soft—perfect. Sculpted. Weaponized. Each curve a trap, every movement calculated to conquer.

"You’ve been spreading your System," she said. "Noblewomen. Bodyguards. Priestesses. My younger sister."

Charles didn’t blink.

"Their bonds," she continued, "were once mine. Now, they whisper your name in their sleep."

"I never forced them."

"No," she whispered, drawing close, trailing a finger down his spine. "You seduced them. And worse—you made them choose you."

The System buzzed violently.

> [WARNING: Hostile Lust Sync Detected] Target: Queen Amara Valeth — LVL ??? Compatibility: 99.9% Threat Level: Apex Entity]

Charles’s body tensed. The Queen wasn’t just another conquest. She was the top of the food chain.

Amara circled him, her breath against his neck. "So, Charles Manson, I offer you a choice. Kneel—and submit to my rule—or I erase every woman who’s ever touched you."

His heart beat once, hard.

"Luciana. Layla. Mei. Even your precious little bodyguard. I will erase them. One. By. One."

> [SYSTEM: ULTIMATUM TRIGGERED] [Accept or Resist] [Hidden Quest Unlocked: Break the Queen’s Bond — Reward: ???]

Charles turned and faced her fully, his voice like steel.

"You don’t want to know what happens when you threaten my women."

Her smile widened. Her fingers glowed with black flame.

"Oh," she whispered, "but I do."

---

Midnight — Hall of Pleasure and Pain

He was bound.

Chains of silk laced with energy glyphs held his wrists in a ritual circle etched into the obsidian floor. Around him, dancers moaned in rhythmic tones, their bodies writhing with erotic magic. The Queen paced, her body now wrapped in sheer strips of enchanted cloth that flickered between visibility and nothingness.

"This is the Ritual of Submission," Amara said. "If you survive, your Lust Sync will be wiped. Your bonds erased. Your women... will forget you."

Charles’s eyes narrowed. "You’re scared of me."

She slapped him with a surge of raw magic.

> [DAMAGE TAKEN: 44 Lust Integrity]

"Wrong," she hissed. "I crave you. And I hate craving."

She raised her hands. Glyphs of crimson and black appeared midair, symbols pulsing with a dangerous rhythm. The dancers chanted faster. The air thickened. The room heated until the stone itself steamed.

The circle ignited.

> [SYSTEM WARNING: Ritual Integrity Falling] [Repression Sequence Initiated]

Charles clenched his teeth. Then whispered: "System. Activate Overdrive."

> [OVERDRIVE MODE: ACTIVATED] [Temporary Boost: Lust Influence +500%]

A wave of power detonated from his core. The chains cracked, moaned, then shattered. The circle flared—then broke.

Amara gasped, stumbling back.

Charles rose, step by slow step, power radiating from his body like solar flares. The dancers dropped to their knees in shock and arousal. The Queen’s control was shattering.

"You think I’ll kneel?" he growled.

He grabbed her wrist, yanked her forward—and kissed her. Deep. Dominant. Dangerous.

She moaned.

Her knees trembled.

Her magic faltered.

> [SYNC INITIATED – Queen Amara Valeth] [Resistance: 94% → 36% → 19%]

He pinned her to the black throne, his mouth hovering over hers.

"No one owns me," he whispered, eyes glowing like burning rubies. "But I’ll make you mine."

The air itself thrummed with magic and arousal, a living rhythm that matched the pounding in Charles’s chest. Crimson candles flickered from walls of obsidian, casting their molten light across silk-draped altars and pleasure-bound statues. The scent of incense, sweat, and something darker curled around them like a spell.

Charles stood at the center, half-shadowed, fully unleashed.

Before him, she knelt.

Queen Amara, once untouchable—now trembling. Her gown was torn, not by accident but by his hands. Her golden skin flushed, marked already with the trace of his grip. Her eyes, wide and burning, flickered between defiance and submission.

She hated losing control.

Which is why he took it.

"Say it," Charles growled, his voice low and sharp like a blade unsheathed.

She didn’t answer.

He grabbed her jaw, forcing her gaze upward, and leaned down—his breath hot against her lips. "I said, say it."

Her throat worked. Her pride held the words back.

But her body betrayed her.

"Y-You own me," she whispered.

Charles’s mouth curved into a dark smile. "Good girl."

Then he seized her.

He didn’t wait for permission—he never waited. His hands were everywhere: pulling, claiming, owning. Her body arched into his like she’d been waiting for this dominance all her life, like every cold command she’d given before was just a prelude to this moment of surrender.

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, slammed her back against one of the velvet-clad pillars, and pressed himself against her—hard, relentless. The column groaned behind her. Her moan was lost in his mouth as he kissed her—rough, consuming, full of the kind of hunger that burned empires to ash.

Clothes? Gone. Between bursts of heated friction, they tore and unraveled like paper under his grip. She gasped, scratched, bit. He growled, pinned, and answered with bruises made of lips and teeth.

The System pulsed behind his eyes:

> [SYNC INTENSIFIED: Queen Amara – Resistance: 0%]

[Desire Feedback Loop Engaged: Mutual Overload]

[Bond Deepening: Lust Rank - Dominated Flame]

Magic curled around them, invisible chains of lust tightening with every thrust, every command, every cry. The chamber responded—lights flaring, runes glowing on the floor beneath them, the air sparking with forbidden energy.

She tried to take control again once—twisted her hips, whispered a spell—but Charles caught her wrists above her head and pressed her deeper into the silk wall.

"No," he growled against her throat. "Not tonight."

Then he took her.

The rhythm wasn’t soft. It wasn’t tender. It was thunder and war drums, conquest and fire. Each motion was a declaration: she wasn’t above him—not anymore. Her moans turned to cries, her cries to screams, echoing through the Hall like a sacred hymn of surrender.

The climax wasn’t just physical. It was magical.

The moment they hit that peak, the entire Hall exploded with light—runes igniting, air shaking, the throne itself shattering behind them. It was as if the very fabric of the Lust Sync had acknowledged the shift in power.

She collapsed into him, limp, gasping, undone.

Charles held her, eyes still glowing red.

And above them, deep in the obsidian ceiling—something cracked.

The System flashed in red:

> [WARNING: INTERVENTION IMMINENT]

[You have surpassed the mortal threshold for Lust Sync Control]

[Celestial Overseer Approaching]

But Charles didn’t flinch.

He lowered her gently, kissed her parted lips once more, and stood tall in the aftermath—dominant, divine, unchallenged.

This wasn’t just sex.

This was a declaration of war.

Her eyes widened, lips parting for a curse that never came.

> [BOND ESTABLISHED – Queen Amara – Lust Rank: Forbidden Fire]

She climaxed—hard. Her body convulsed, the throne cracked, and every torch in the chamber flickered violently before dying.

The dancers collapsed. The runes shattered. Silence fell like a guillotine.

And then— CRACK.

A rift tore through the palace ceiling.

The sky above split open like glass. Cold moonlight poured through, illuminating a figure descending with impossible grace.

A woman.

But not mortal.

Her skin shimmered like liquid silver, her hair flowed like starlight, and her eyes—endless galaxies of cold judgment—locked onto Charles.

Everyone in the hall, even the Queen still shaking from orgasm, fell still.

The silver-skinned woman raised a single hand.

"Charles Manson." Her voice was neither sound nor thought. It was.

"Your power has exceeded the planetary threshold."

> [SYSTEM ALERT: CELESTIAL INTERVENTION DETECTED] [WARNING: You have drawn attention from the Overseers of Lust Sync] [World Instability: 83% and rising]

Charles’s eyes flared.

"What are you?"

She pointed at him, a spark of white fire crackling from her fingertip. Space itself warped.

"I am Judgment."

The world screamed—

And the sky collapsed.