SSS Ranked Awakening: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Seraphine's breath caught as awareness flooded her — the solid, unmistakable weight pressing against her belly, thick and warm, pulsing in slow rhythm like the beat of a drum beneath skin. Only the soft stretch of Leon's shorts separated her from his cock, and even that felt like a veil over fire.

It throbbed — steady, insistent — as if it could feel her gaze, her breath, her hunger.

She didn't move at first. Just breathed, felt. The memory of last night lingered — how they'd chosen closeness over craving, warmth over want. It had calmed her then. But now?

Now, in the hush of dawn, the bed warmed by their bodies, and the room alive with the quiet magic of stone shaped by Leon's hands, that restraint began to crack.

A slow ache unfurled in her belly, heavy and slick.

She let her hand drift down, fingers tracing the sculpted lines of his abdomen. His skin was warm, his breathing slow — steady as a mountain. He didn't stir.

Her fingers found the waistband of his shorts.

She hesitated.

Then, drawn by a pull deeper than thought, she slipped her hand beneath.

Heat met her palm.

Her breath hitched. Her fingers curled instinctively around the base of his cock — hard, thick, and hot to the touch. Even in her full grip, she couldn't close her fingers entirely. He was heavier than before, longer too — like his body had been reforged in the fires of his recent trials.

She swallowed. Her pussy clenched with the thought of him inside her.

His cock twitched.

Throb.

A soft gasp escaped her lips before she could catch it. The weight of him in her palm sent a ripple of need down her spine, pooling low between her legs.

He shifted slightly in his sleep. A breath left him — a quiet groan, low and raw, like the scrape of stone — but he didn't wake.

Her hand stayed on him, slow and reverent, stroking the full length of his shaft from root to tip. The skin was soft as silk, stretched taut over rigid flesh. She could feel the veins beneath — thick, raised lines pulsing against her palm.

She stroked again.

Shlick.

A bead of precum slicked the head. She smeared it with her thumb, circling gently. He twitched again.

Gods, he felt like a weapon disguised as worship.

Seraphine licked her lips and shifted slowly, lifting her leg over him, straddling his waist with practiced ease. Her bare thighs parted wide over his chest, knees pressing into the soft bedding as she leaned forward.

Her soaked panties clung to her — the fabric darkened and slick, already sticky with arousal. Her clit throbbed beneath the lace, aching.

One hand braced on his thigh, the other wrapped back around his cock. She angled him toward her mouth and lowered her head.

A hot breath.

Then a kiss to his tip — soft, lingering.

Then her tongue.

Slrp.

She tasted him — sweet and hot. Her lips closed around the swollen head, and she sank lower, slow and deliberate, taking more of him in inch by inch, until the stretch at her jaw forced her to ease back.

Her hand pumped what her mouth couldn't reach, slick with saliva and precum, her grip gliding with a wet slick-slick rhythm.

He groaned again — louder this time.

Still sleeping. But no longer untouched by what she was doing.

She bobbed her head, dragging her tongue along the underside of his shaft, over the thick vein that pulsed there like a heartbeat. Her other hand stroked what her mouth left exposed. The wet sounds of her devotion filled the earthen chamber — obscene, rhythmic, beautiful.

Slrp.

Slick.

Shhhlick.

She moaned around him, vibrations traveling through his length as her hips began to move on their own — subtle circles, grinding her clit into the drenched fabric of her panties. Her pussy throbbed, begging for contact. For him.

Another breath. Another deep stroke.

Another twitch.

And then—

"...Sera?"

His voice, low and hoarse, cracked through the haze.

She froze — and looked over her shoulder.

Leon's eyes were open now, heavy-lidded and dazed, focused on her with the kind of stunned hunger that made her flush. He saw everything: her bare thighs hugging his hips, her panties clinging to her folds like second skin, the curve of her back as she knelt over him, hair cascading like dark flame.

His lips parted, but no words came. Only breath.

Then — his hand lifted, warm and calloused, sliding along her thigh.

"What are you doing to me… my horny angel?"

She smiled, mouth still glistening, flushed but fearless.

"Making up for last night," she said, voice like honey dripped over fire.

Her hips rocked down, pressing her soaked center against the base of his cock. The friction made her gasp, and made him growl.

His hands slid to her ass — full, round, perfect in his palms. He squeezed, dragging her against him, grinding her folds along the thick underside of his shaft.

Schlick.

The sound was obscene. Her panties were soaked through. Every rub sent shocks through her clit, and her moans spilled freely now, soft and trembling.

"You're drenched," he muttered, voice ragged.

She bit her lip, shivering. "You make me like this."

His hands slid up, fingers curling under the hem of her underwear. With one pull — rrip — the soaked fabric gave way, torn in two.

The scent of her arousal spilled into the air — hot, sweet, thick.

He sat up beneath her, his chest brushing her spine, mouth tracing the length of it.

"I didn't know I was dreaming until I tasted you," he whispered.

She arched against him, and he groaned, burying his face in her softness as his hands gripped her soft ass, fingers parting her slick folds.

"You're not dreaming," she breathed.

And then she focused back on her work, wrapped her fingers around his cock once more, the intense stroking and sucking started once again.

"Then I'm not stopping," he growled.

The room pulsed with quiet heat — the breath of earth beneath them, candlelight flickering like tongues against the stone walls. Seraphine's thighs trembled where they straddled Leon's chest, her body bowed forward, lips stretched around the thick swell of his cock. She moved with rhythm — deep, wet strokes of her mouth, tongue lapping with hunger, worship in motion.

Slrp.

Schlick.

Gulp.

Each suck drew a twitch from him, a pulse against her tongue. Precum slicked his head, salty and hot, smeared across her lips like a kiss she didn't want to end. Her throat flexed as she swallowed him down again, hand stroking what her mouth couldn't reach, her jaw aching but insistent.

But it wasn't one-sided.

Leon lay beneath her, half-arched into her mouth, but his hands were anything but idle.

His fingers clutched her ass — guiding, grounding — before he pulled her down, slow and deliberate, until her soaked pussy hovered just above his mouth.

Then he pressed his tongue to her — broad and hot — and licked her from clit to entrance with a growl so deep it vibrated through her core.

"Ah—gods," she gasped, his cock slipping free from her lips with a wet pop.

Her arms trembled, hips bucking forward instinctively. But he held her steady, one strong arm locking around her thigh, the other hand slipping between her legs to part her folds with ease.

She was soaked — cunt glistening, flushed, open — and he devoured her like he was starving.