Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

She opened wide and took him in one go, her throat stretching, lips wrapping tightly around his burning cock. Her eyes watered, but she didn't stop—nearly choking as she buried her nose into the scent of his base, tongue lapping greedily even as her throat clenched from the stretch.

"GLK—GLRK—AHN~—GLLP—MMN~!" Her throat clutched around his shaft as she forced him deeper, lips stretching wide, spit dribbling down her chin. He's so big… my mouth feels so pleasantly full… Her moans vibrated around him, muffled and wet, pure pleasure spilling from her mouth in sync with every messy thrust. She bobbed faster, her head moving with wild rhythm—"MMHF—GLK—GLLP—mmMMN~!"—gagging gently as the tip pressed into her throat. Each time it touched, it would send pleasure down her spine, but she didn't stop, didn't pull back. Her fingers worked feverishly between her legs, schlick-schlicking in a slick, rapid blur, her whole body shuddering with need.

"MMmh—gllrk—nngh~! Mmf… mmFF—haaahn~!" The sounds grew louder, wetter, hungrier.

Spit slapped against his pelvis. Her nose buried against his base, her moans broke in little, trembling bursts—"Nggh—mhmMM~!"—as if sucking him was the only thing her body was made for. Every breath was a gasp, every motion a confession of how badly she wanted him, how deeply she needed to taste him.

Time melted slowly. She enjoyed every second of his taste. His dick was her lollipop, and when she reached the white filling, she would not stop, no matter what. Soon ten minutes passed. Then fifteen.

He twitched in her mouth over and over, his hips giving faint, unconscious bucks. He moaned in his sleep again, low and guttural, as if dreaming of being buried in some warm, eager mouth.

"You're not even awake, and you're still this unfair…" she whispered between messy slurps, her tongue circling his tip in slow, spiral flicks, coaxing more pre-cum just to savor the taste. Then, without warning, she plunged back into a full deep-throat. She liked challenging herself, testing her limits, pushing to see how far she could take him down her throat. So far, she could only manage half before her gag reflex kicked in—but that only fed her competitive fire.

Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty. Still, he didn't cum, no matter how hard she tried.

Her jaw ached. Her throat burned. But the pain didn't matter.

It felt too good. Too filthy. Too delicious.

She bobbed with ravenous rhythm, cheeks hollowing, then slowed to tease his tip with languid licks, like she was savoring a sinful lollipop. Her tongue swirled, her lips suckled, her breath came in hot, panting moans between every stroke. Her fox ears twitched with each bob, filled with lust. Her tails were burning with the sensation of lightning running through them. The amount of pleasure she felt from sucking him was already as much as one would feel having sex the normal way.

Then—suddenly—after nearly forty relentless minutes, she felt something new. Sylvaris's dick swelled inside her mouth. His length throbbed harder. His thighs instinctively tightened.

He's close, her instincts screamed.

Her thighs quivered in response to the raw tension in his body. Her own climax spiraled inside her, coiling hotter, tighter, like fire licking through her veins—but she didn't let go. She wouldn't. Not until he did.

Is he cumming? Then I'll milk him for every last drop. Her mind blazed with wild, filthy determination.

"GLK! GLRK! GLK-GLK-GLK—MMFF! GLLP! GLUUUH—AHN~! GLK-GLK-GLK—MMMH~! GGRK—MMFF—GLK-GLK—NNNGH~!" Her head slammed up and down, so fast she couldn't even breathe. Her nose pressed against his base. Her throat swallowed around him.

The sudden increase in speed made his cock twitch uncontrollably, and a feeling of something coming rushed through her throat. And even unconscious, it made Sylvaris moan in his dreams. "Nnnghh—!"

His hips jerked powerfully, slapping into her face with raw power.

TWITCH—TWITCH!—His cock erupted, flooding her mouth with hot, thick white cum. "MMF—!! GLLK—GLLP—GLRK!" She moaned as she swallowed every drop, gulping it down while her fingers furiously rubbed her clit. The moment the last spurt hit the back of her throat, her whole body snapped. Why is it so good? My throat is filled with his release, I can feel it fill my belly… Oh my god, I won't get pregnant from this, will I? His cum… inside me… Even as she drank all of that, she was burning with shyness on her face.

"AH—haahh—fuuuck—!!" Her legs buckled as her climax tore through her, hips bucking, her thighs soaked and trembling as she came hard. Her body curled forward, mouth still wrapped around his softening length, drinking the last of him like it was sacred.

As she pulled off him with a soft, wet—pop—the last of his cum still coating her lips, her breath was shallow, ragged, as though she'd run a marathon—only her body was satisfied, in a way that nothing else could match. Her chest heaved with pleasure, trembling, but she didn't move. Not yet. She leaned against his thigh, her cheek resting softly against his warm skin. A slow, contented smile crept onto her face, her fox ears twitching slightly, as if they too were lost in the haze of the moment.

"Gods…" she gasped under her breath, her tongue flicking over her lips to catch the last trace of him. The aftertaste was sharp and rich—sacred. Her fingers lazily traced the length of his softening cock, an affectionate caress, a reverence for the pleasure she had just devoured. She was still coming down from the high, but there was no rush. The heat between her thighs remained, the fire still flickering through her veins, though now it was mixed with a tender, almost possessive satisfaction.

"You're too good to be real..." she whispered, her voice soft, almost sweet. But beneath that sweetness, a darker edge remained—an unspoken promise of more, of possession. "And you don't even know what you just did to me."

Her gaze lingered on him, eyes softening as she continued to stroke his cock, the last remnants of his release slipping between her fingers. She felt no shame, only a deep sense of satisfaction—and, perhaps, something more. She didn't know what it was, but it burned brightly in her chest, something that went beyond just lust. A warmth that he had ignited. She would claim him, all of him, in ways that had only begun to unfold.

"Good boy..." she muttered, her voice low and filled with a certain reverence. "You really saved all that just for me, didn't you?"

Then, with a final, lingering stroke, she pulled back. She had other things to do. Other tasks. Her lips still tingled with the taste of him as she stood, stretching slightly, her muscles aching from the intensity of the last hour, but her mind was already elsewhere.

She moved with a natural grace and pulled two blankets from her system inventory, spreading them over the two of them. Careful, almost affectionate, she draped the warmth over their naked bodies, ensuring they wouldn't freeze to death in the frigid air of the wilds.

Faylira's mind was already on her next task. She could smell the hunt in the air—rabbits, small critters nearby. A natural hunter, she could track them by scent alone. With a determined glint in her eyes, she silently slipped away, her tails flicking behind her with practiced precision.

When she returned an hour later, she had three rabbits in tow, their fresh scent mingling with the fire as she carefully prepared them. The crackle of flames, the soft sizzle of cooking meat, filled the air. She moved with the ease of someone who had done this many times before—like a housewife tending to her beloved, a sister preparing a meal. There was something oddly domestic about it, but the rawness of what had just passed between them hung heavily in the air.

Hours later, Liraeth was the first to wake. Her head was spinning, dizzy from the aftershocks of her earlier submission. Her pussy ached—still sore from the pounding she had received. She blinked, taking in her surroundings, and immediately noticed the warmth of the blankets around her. Something felt different. Her body was sore but satiated, and there was a strange tenderness in the way her muscles seemed to relax.

Then, Sylvaris stirred beside her, blinking in confusion. He looked at her, his gaze slow and unfocused, as if he were waking from a strange, hazy dream. And then, his eyes found hers. She smiled—soft, innocent even—but beneath the smile, there was something deeper, darker, a knowing gleam in her eyes.

"Good morning," she said, the words almost casual, but there was a possessiveness in her tone.

Sylvaris blinked again, his mind still foggy, as if trying to process the dream he'd just woken from—a dream that felt too real. But when he saw her smile, it clicked. His gaze dropped to her lips, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.