Succubi Chapter 152. Envy I
She slid back, her nails trailing down my chest again.
Not a scratch, not a slice, no. Evelyn wasn't sloppy. Her touch was calculated. Precise. Every line her nail carved into my skin was just pressure, just enough to wake up the nerves underneath and make me hyperaware of where she was and what she could do.
The ropes pulsed faintly again, like they could feel the tension rising. Pride flared inside me. My aura started to spike, thickening in the air like a storm cloud that didn't care who it drowned.
She noticed. Of course she noticed.
Her eyes glittered, pupils sharp, breath slow, lips parted like she could already taste what came next. Her thighs still pinned mine, and my wrists strained slightly against the bindings. Just a test. Not full strength. Yet.
"You're flaring again," she whispered, amused.
"And you're still on top," I growled.
She smirked and leaned in, her chest brushing my bound arms again. "Exactly where I like to be."
And her voice. It wasn't just sexy, it was dangerous. That smooth succubus tone, dripping with layered intention. It made your skin heat up and your brain fog over if you weren't careful. I was careful.
Mostly.
My throat went dry again, but this time it wasn't nerves.
It was calculation.
I looked at her. Really looked. At the soft sheen on her cheeks, the flush of heat rising along her neck, the faint tremble in her thighs despite her dominant pose. She wanted me. She really wanted me.
That wasn't just lust anymore.
That was envy licking at her ribs and pride curling in her gut. She wasn't just playing with me because I leaked aura. No. She had feelings. Real, hot, messy feelings buried under layers of smug teasing and assassin control.
So… I decided to use it.
To fulfill a wish I hadn't dared say out loud before.
I flexed my fingers once in the bindings, just enough to remind her I could break them. She felt it. Her body reacted, hips jerking slightly, eyes widening for a second before narrowing again.
"You want me," I said, my voice low and steady.
She blinked. Her smirk twitched like it wasn't sure if it should grow or break. "I want you, Evan," she breathed. "I really want you."
I tilted my head, letting a slow smile stretch my lips. "
That prideful attitude of yours …makes me want to ruin you," she whispered.
My smirk sharpened.
"Then how about this play," I said, letting the words curl around her. "I'll command you…"
Her breath caught.
"…and I'll let you play with me."
She stared at me, lips slightly parted.
"You're serious?" she asked, voice lower now, less teasing. More raw.
I nodded slowly. "Do you think I can't?"
Her eyes flicked to the ropes. She knew I could. If I wanted to break out right now, I could. Pride demons don't stay bound unless they choose to. She wasn't dumb.
For a second, she just looked at me. Really looked. Not as prey. Not as a flirt. But as something that maybe… could undo her.
She blushed.
I grinned.
"I said obey me," I whispered. "Evelyn."
And that was it. The trigger.
Her body tensed like a drawn bow. Her aura fluttered like it was short-circuiting between obedience and desire.
Succubi were designed to lead, to lure, to tempt. But Pride? Pride wasn't tempted. Pride commanded. And something about that flipped a switch in her.
She shuddered. Then lowered herself slowly, reverently, like a spell had just been cast.
Her lips hovered over mine. "What's your order… my prince?" she whispered.
I kissed her. Hard.
My aura surged between us like a lightning strike, the ropes flickering wildly before settling into a new rhythm. A beat that matched mine.
"Touch me," I said against her lips. "But only where I allow."
She moaned quietly, nodding.
"Say it."
"I'll obey," she breathed. "Just… don't stop looking at me like that."
Like she was mine.
Because she was.
Her fingers moved slowly, sliding under my shirt, not to take it off, not yet, but to feel. To memorize.
She brushed my sides, up to my ribs, down again to my hips. Her nails caught on the waistband of my pants, dragging slow lines of fire that made me hiss.
I let her. For now.
"Lower," I said.
She obeyed.
The ropes loosened just enough to let her slide down between my legs, her breath brushing my thighs, her hair tickling my skin. I could smell her. Envy always smelled like temptation dipped in danger.
She looked up at me, pupils blown wide. "Can I… taste you?"
"No."
Her breath caught.
"Not until you beg."
She whimpered. Actually whimpered.
"You're evil," she whispered.
"I'm Pride," I corrected. "You want it? Ask."
She bit her lip, hard. I watched the flush rise to her cheeks. Her fingers gripped my thighs.
"Please," she said. "Evan, let me taste you. I need to."
"Good girl."
And I let her.
Her mouth was warm, soft, slow. She didn't rush. She savored. Tongue teasing, lips sliding, breath stuttering.
I groaned and let my head fall back.
She was too good at this. It wasn't just physical, it was devastating. She took pride and turned it into putty with her mouth. And I let her, because even in submission, she was still my match.
When she pulled back, lips wet, eyes dazed, I lifted my hips slightly, testing the ropes again. They flexed.
"Get back up here," I said.
She climbed me like a worshiper, straddling my hips again, her chest brushing mine, lips brushing my jaw.
"What now?" she whispered.
"Now," I said, voice a growl, "you play with me."
And oh, did she.
She kissed me like she owned me. Her hands danced across my chest, my stomach, my face, hungry but still listening. Still obeying. She didn't go where I didn't let her.
I rolled us over. Just once. Power shift. Just to remind her. The ropes didn't stop me.
Her breath caught as I leaned over her, my aura burning down like a crown of fire.
"You like being under me too?" I asked.
"I like being yours," she whispered.
I froze for half a second. That…
That hit deeper than I expected.
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