An Eldritch Legacy: Sin & Sacrilege

At first, he had believed that she would be able to handle the intense session, but she had worn out faster than he would have liked. The effects of the awakening had left him with a burning need for carnal intensity; the little that had occurred during the ritual had only ignited something deeper and hotter within him. So, after completing the awakening, he did not allow even a moment's rest—he continued where they had left off. Somehow they had left the oppressive walls of the underground cathedral for the colder walls of the princess' chambers. And if that had been days ago, one could only imagine the intensity of the situation.

He hadn't been worried about her, considering she had already become a Walker long before he had. So seeing her body give in just a day into it had stirred a flicker of disdain within him. And just when that thought was about to cement itself—that she might not be enough for him, despite all her allure—her body reacted violently, giving him one of the most intense orgasms he had ever experienced.

Her body changed before his eyes—her legs lengthened, becoming towering in his grasp; her bones softened, turning her into something so flexible he thought she'd lost them altogether. The feel of her beneath him in that state was nearly euphoric; he almost spilled inside her again. Her skin became even more supple and tender, almost slippery in his hands. Her thighs thickened, her curves grew fuller, and her mounds became softer and even more mesmerizing. Her eyes became clearer, watery like precious jewels, and her hair was so silky he couldn't help but use it in more ways than one. Her technique became something that would please even the most lascivious of gods and dragons.

Her voice—now spine-chillingly sweet—made him feel more than he would admit, and there was the timid light in the chambers that had blushed, turning from a stark orange to something mellow and more suggestive. His cock twitched deep inside her at the sound of her moans, which now felt like they were meant to tease him instead.

It was as though her body had felt his disdain and decided to punish him for it. Now he understood—it wasn't her body that had failed, but her mind that hadn't yet caught up. For all her power and talent, her psyche lagged behind her Dominion of Body, creating a dissonance that explained the situation he had found himself in. He hadn't realized that her form could become so endowed, simply for the sin of giving him such maddening pleasure. But with time, he was confident he could bring her mind and body onto the same page. He would simply have to teach her more during the practice sessions on how to please her husband...

With that thought, he thrust deeper—his body moving with a painfully slow rhythm, making Rena unconsciously and desperately thrust her hips to meet him faster, impaling herself on the rod that had claimed her so thoroughly. To have him move that slow was maddening to her, and the way he refused to touch her sensitive bud was something she felt she needed an explanation for.

Romeon only moved that slow because he sought to imprint the feel of her new body into his senses, to press that tempting flesh tighter against his own—something only he would ever get to see, but he would never tell that to her...

Leaning into her until their skin was flush, her scented sweat clung to him like a veil, clouding his dazed mind further. Even with her shivering like she was cold, her body begged for more—her walls sucking him deeper in. It was as though she were pulling him in farther than what should have been physically possible—and yet, he was already so deep that when his palms touched her flat, toned belly, he could feel the imprint of himself stretching her stomach.

"Fuck, Princess... are you trying to kill yourself on my cock? Ease up a bit," he grunted—his voice filled with pain and yet laced with a pleasure he didn't want to admit aloud.

All he got from her in response was a sexy growl that crawled up his spine, nearly pushing him over the edge again. He steadied himself with a breath—just in time to prevent what he considered his own embarrassment.

He reached out with one hand to grip her tender, rock-hard nipples in punishment. But her breasts had become too large to be held down by one hand—they escaped his grasp, to his ecstatic frustration. But the action alone had the desired effect; his almost sloppy and failed attempts at securing her mounds in a singular palm had made her stumble in pleasure.

And that earned a scream from her as her body released a full-body shudder—cumming again beneath the weight of his intense glare.

Their passion continued until noon, when the light of Astrea should have been at its peak. Yet, within the chamber—and even the castle—it was impossible to tell. The light that filtered in was timid, as though it, too, blushed in the aftermath of their storm.

------

Rena's soft, tired breathing echoed faintly within the draped curtains of the bed. Through the sheer visibility offered by the see-through nets, Romeon's gaze traced her curves, exposed to the gentle caress of the orange glow. Her body shivered slightly, her toes twitching—a ripple of exhaustion and pleasure still lingering.

Her allure had only intensified—the glow of her tired body painting a picture he was not ready to confront. The way his golden seed flowed from her swollen folds was simply too tempting.... He had marked his territory, and his heart was content.

In the end, he had calmed the beast—his aching, insatiable cock. He'd thought the need would never subside. But with the way Rena's body had responded—like it was made just for him—he had managed to drain all the lust awakened within his blood.

Though it was not his intention to treat her like that, he couldn't help it. The raging blood that now flowed through him was a force all its own—and he sighed, troubled by the consequences.

Things had gotten... complicated.

He had just realized that his origins were not so simple—well, his more mystical origins. Born an orphan—a street rat, a child of the battlefield—he had relied on a woman's influence to secure a place in society. A warrior by nature, a husband married to their in-laws house instead of the other way round, one could tell how society would look upon him; he could already feel their gazes filled with disdain.

Yet that path, one of military might, would have put him at odds with too many powerful people. This way was cleaner... more efficient. Though the thought grated at his pride—having relied on a woman to rise to his station—it helped that she was the most coveted woman in all of North Cardinal.

He was here, in her bed, fucking the hottest woman in the land—and loving every inch of her. That alone managed to quiet the pride that raged inside him; it was simply a satisfying price for his bruised ego. He would find a way to silence those who dared speak his name in gossip.

Romeon stood shirtless by the window ledge, his back slowly turning from Rena, golden eyes flashing in rhythm with the pulsing light from the great pillar. His grey locks grazed his sculpted face, which had only grown more striking after his blood had awakened—granting him a masculinity that would leave many women across Astrea swooning.

His features had sharpened, angular like they had been carved from deep, earthen stone. Strange, glowing silver-gray markings pulsed faintly in the soft light, glowing in sync with his eyes, creating a mystical sight—even within the almost timid glow of Astrea's light.

His gaze was sharp and stormy, as if raging nature lived in his every glance. A storm not of the chaos of the mind and thoughts, but of his peculiar eyes' very nature.

His skin had deepened to the coldest, most rugged shade of brown—like the earth itself—yet alive with vitality. It concealed the golden blood flowing through his veins, warming his body like fire... like a ray of light in a desolate chamber made of frosted stone.

And he liked the sensation.

With every breath, his heart beat in harmony with the rhythm of his blood. A glowing ring of light echoed within his pupils. His muscles moved as if they breathed—alive and whispering, each twitch accompanied by a silent scream from his very cells, a sound even Romeon could not discern.

His gaze passed over the corrupted, darkened lands of Northern Cardinal. He could feel the charred air of Astrea. Each breath brought the sorrow of the dead, the determination of the living—the pain of monsters slain, and the madness of those who killed them.

He had seen the horrors of the battlefield. He had tasted the ruin that war carved into men's minds. He had witnessed what it meant to be broken.

And now... he stood above it all.

Born of war's ruin and the common man's plight... Now he stood in the heart of the North Cardinal's highest echelon of royalty and nobility.

A deep, savage grin broke across his face, revealing his... blackened teeth?

A detail that would be lost to any that would look upon him....