NOVEL WEB Chapter 153-Finally Got the Skills
His hand moved from her clit — just for a second — and dipped between her folds, fingers brushing the hot slickness there, teasing her soaked entrance.
She gasped into his mouth, legs trembling, realizing that he knew too much about her body, more than even she did.
"Crux…ius…!"
His name spilled out between their kiss — not screamed, not said — just… surrendered.
And still, he didn't stop.
His fingers rubbed her again, sliding up from her pussy to her clit, circling harder now. Tighter. Faster. Every stroke sent sparks shooting up her spine. Her thighs clenched, her breath stuttered, her back arched.
She was close.
And she knew it.
And he knew it too.
But he didn't rush.
He let her moan, let her grind, let her hips jerk and buck and clecnh his cock tighter to give his siignal how hard he needed to go.
The shower hissed like a serpent, steam curling thick and heavy, swallowing the world beyond the glass. The heat coiled around their bodies, wet skin against soaked skin, their breaths muffled by the hiss and humidity.
Her pink hair clung to her face in damp strands, cheeks flushed red under the veil of rising mist. Her lips—swollen, parted—trembled as she struggled to breathe.
Her maid dress hung in ruins, the corset loosened and unlaced, drenched fabric pooling at her waist. Her breasts were bare, glistening beneath the relentless fall of hot water, nipples taut and aching from both heat and touch.
Her legs shook, stockings torn down her thighs like shredded lace, framing the raw, swollen slickness between her legs. And still—
His cock remained buried in her ass.
Thick. Heavy. Pulsing.
Each throb echoed through her insides like a silent command. Her hole, stretched and ruined, clenched weakly around him, no longer resisting—only holding, as if molded to his shape. Her thighs twitched at the sensation, toes curling on the wet tile floor as the weight of him sat deep in her gut.
His fingers—slick with her arousal—slid down again. Slow. Unforgiving. Teasing the heat between her thighs, his touch brushed the folds of her untouched pussy. She jolted, a helpless jerk of her hips as the contact sparked something raw. Her breath hitched, chest shuddering as his fingers grazed just a little too close.
"Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low—molten steel poured into her ear. The heat of his breath cut through the mist as his hand moved lower.
Then—he pressed.
A single finger, slow and deliberate, nudged just beneath her glistening slit, pushing gently where no one had ever touched. A delicate, sudden sting lit through her nerves. She winced. Her hips locked. His finger had found it—her hymen.
"I'll wither this..." His voice was dark, thick with promise, "...on our wedding night."
Her body froze.
Tears bloomed in her eyes, sudden and hot, slipping down her cheeks. But the water masked them. The steam swallowed her sobs. It was more than the pressure inside her, more than the ache of her hole stretched around his cock—it was his words. The finality of it. The weight.
Wedding night.
She couldn't breathe.
Her hand rose, trembling, fingers brushing his stubbled jaw. She cupped his face with a desperate grip, clinging like a woman drowning.
She turned toward him, eyelashes wet, lips parted with a voice that cracked as it left her throat. "You… you won't hurt me… or those I love… right?"
The plea was soft. Shaking. It bled from her with fear, with love, with everything tangled in between.
He said nothing at first. But his eyes darkened.
Then—
A deep, grinding thrust rolled through her body.
She gasped—a broken sound, choked and breathless—as his cock dragged slow and possessive through her wrecked passage. Her body jerked against him, helpless, held up only by his arms.
His hand rose again—rough, hungry—and seized her breast in a grip too tight, too sharp. Fingers sank into the soft flesh, thumb dragging hard across her nipple until she whimpered into the steam. Her back arched instinctively.
And then he kissed her.
No warning.
His mouth crashed onto hers—wet, open, demanding. Tongue diving deep. The taste of her tears and moans mixing into his hunger. His teeth grazed her lower lip, biting, tugging, claiming. It wasn't a kiss. It was a conquest.
Water poured over their faces, down their chins, tracing the lines of lust and desperation. When he finally pulled back, he didn't go far. His voice poured against her mouth, rough and low.
"You already know," he said, "you're the best woman I ever got."
Her heart twisted, aching.
She didn't answer.
She couldn't.
Instead, she surged into him, kissing him back—messy, frantic, desperate. Her fingers threaded through his soaked hair, nails digging into his scalp as she clung tighter. The water washed away her tears, but not the conflict in her chest. Love. Fear. Longing. All of it burned inside her, coiling tight.
His cock throbbed again—still buried in her, still claiming her. Her ass clenched around it, her slick hole tightening in rhythm.
Her pussy, untouched yet swollen with need, dripped helplessly, the ache in her hips impossible to ignore.
His hand returned, trailing down to her clit. Fingers circled with maddening precision—slow, teasing, never enough.
"Haah… haaah… Cruxius…"
His name escaped her lips like a secret.
Like surrender.
She didn't know when her knees gave out—maybe it was the trembling in her thighs, maybe it was the way his cock pulsed inside her with every beat, or maybe it was the weight of everything he said.
But she slid down.
Down to the floor, steam curling around her like smoke, water still hissing from above. Her body trembling, her fingers dragging across his abs for balance as her lips hovered just above the base of his shaft.
Her eyes were hazy—half-lidded, wet, overwhelmed.
Water clung to her lashes. But it wasn't just that.
There was something in her gaze now.
Something deeper.
A need that had nothing to do with lust.
She leaned forward, her cheek brushing his cock, lips grazing along the side as her hand wrapped around the thick base. She kissed it—softly, reverently—as if the act itself meant something more now. Then she looked up, voice barely audible over the falling water.
"I want a child."
And before he could even process that—
She sucked his balls.
Hard.
Her lips wrapped around them, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing as she tugged them tight into her mouth like she was trying to draw out the seed herself.
His thighs twitched. His hand slammed flat against the wall, breath catching in his throat.
"Lira—ugh"
"Umhh...."
His cock, now soft and heavy from the overload, flopped down against her forehead like a thick, wet elephant trunk, sliding along the bridge of her nose with a dull, humiliating thud.
She didn't even blink.
Didn't flinch.
Instead, she tilted her head slightly, let the limp shaft drag across her temple, slicking her skin with a mix of water, sweat, and lingering filth from her own body. Her eyes stayed locked on his as her fingers reached down—precise, firm—and gripped one of his balls.
Then the other.
Hard.
He winced. The pressure made his thigh jerk involuntarily. His hand shot to her scalp, grabbing a fistful of her wet hair, not to stop her—but to hold onto something before he lost control.
Her tongue slid under his sack now, slow and deliberate, like she was mapping the weight, the heat, the folds. Then, without warning—
She shoved all of it into her mouth.
His entire bloated sack.
Both balls.
Stuffed past her lips like she didn't care what breathing meant anymore. Her cheeks ballooned, jaw strained, her lips stretched obscenely wide around him. Saliva spilled out, mixed with water, pooling down her chin and dripping over her breasts in messy, humiliating strings.
He groaned—deep and guttural—his voice raw with something between pain and pleasure. His knees nearly gave out.
"F-Fuck—Lira…!"
She didn't pull back.
She just stared up at him. Eyes full of something darker than lust. Not submission. Not desire.
Control.
With her mouth full of his sack, she mumbled around it—voice muffled but terrifyingly clear:
"You're not the only one… who knows my vulgar weaknesses."
And the way she said it—with his balls stuffed in her throat—made something in him snap.
He grabbed her head tight, cock twitching against her cheek like it was waking back up, and yanked her hair hard enough to tilt her chin back. She let go with a pop, a spit-string still connecting her lips to his raw, shiny sack. Her mouth opened, tongue lolling out in a slow drag up the underside of his shaft, even though it wasn't hard yet.
She licked him like it didn't matter.
Like she owned every part of him, soft or not.
Like she was licking her property clean.
"You're insane," he muttered, half in awe, half in disbelief.
Her smile was twisted, beautiful in its madness. "You started it."
She kissed the tip again. Not with hunger. With intent—a long, dragging press of her lips to the soft crown, her eyes fluttering as if she was worshiping a god fallen from grace.
Then she whispered, breath hot against the tip:
"Now get hard again… I'm not done punishing you."
"What the hell..... "
DING!
[ Synchronization Established ]
[ Emotional Threshold Fulfilled – Subject: Lira Evess ]
[ Ability Acquired via HeartSync (original) ]
[ Ability: HeartSync ]
[ Rank: SSS+ → Transcendent ]
[ Acquisition: Complete – Ability MAXED ]
[ No Further Sync Possible with Source ]
[ Ability: The user would be able to willingly bestow their ability upon anyone of their choice, irrespective of their relationship with the host. ]