Transmigrated Into an OnlyWomenRealm: the Amazons

Before heading out, Byron glanced at Penthesilea. She nodded at him.

Obviously, he didn't need her approval. It was a wise thing to do though. He wanted to make her feel like she was in charge.

In reality, Byron was now so horny that the only thing in his mind was to take Hippolyta into a room in some castle nearby and smash her.

There was no stopping it.

His hand was still on her boob and the thought of smashing her made him increase the pressure around the area.

Hippolyta flinched, once again, because it made her look weak and intoxicated. If it wasn't for this, she should have begged him to continue what he was doing.

However, appearing weak in front of her girls wasn't something she had on her bucket list. That's why she whispered into his ear again, reminding him of her proposal.

"Let's take it somewhere private please!"

Byron smiled at her, grabbing her hand. After all, he now had Penthesilea's blessing. There was no point in dilly-dallying.

They met Alcippe on their way out of the Falling Hall. She was trailed by the 10 girls Byron had told her to pick, and they all had huge plates, the ones they had brought peacocks on last night, except now it was omelets atop them.

Alcippe looked him in the eye, glanced at their intertwined hands, then brought her gaze back to smile at him.

As they passed past each other, she got close, leaned into his ear and whispered, "How I wish I could be there, watching! Uhm, such a loss!"

Byron let out a chuckle.

He led Hippolyta into the closest castle he found, knowing there would be a room, and most importantly, a bed.

"Now we're alone," he said as he pushed the door into a well decorated room. "Did you have something in mind?"

The bed caught his eye. It was huge, with pillows as many as eight, two of them so big, four of them smaller, the remaining two even smaller.

Like any other thing in the room, the pillows were of bright colours, mostly rose and pink.

The huge candles were still burning.

Perhaps the girl who slept there had forgotten to put them out in the morning. After all, they had sneaked on him before he was even awake. He doubted they had had time to leave their castles organised.

Or maybe it was her custom.

Either way, this was the perfect environment for a sexual encounter with a beauty like Hippolyta who valued romance so much.

Hippolyta was quiet, looking at Byron. When Byron shifted his gaze from the bed to her, she quickly averted her gaze.

He had thought being alone with her would make her so bold, but it seemed to have had the opposite effect instead.

Was she really shy?

Why would she be?

She was supposed to jump at him as soon as they reached the room, push him on bed and start riding him. At least that's what Byron had assumed. After all, her lust was a 100 times that of a normal woman due to Hera's curse.

That's why she was here. To take him to her city so he could fuck her. So he could quench her libido. What was she waiting for then?

Byron put a finger on her chin, lifting it so she could look at him. He said, "You're more beautiful when you're not aggressive, did you know that?"

A blush spread across her cheeks.

"I'm not aggressive!" she protested.

"You were holding your sword on Penth's neck when I came. You threatened to kill them all if I didn't come with you. I don't know what you call that, if not aggressive."

"I was merely reminding her of our agreement!"

"Oh! The agreement to cut off my hand, right? And that's also not aggressive to you. What a joke!"

"I didn't say I would cut off your hand. I said I would take you in whole. I only take hands from the dead."

"Same thing!" Byron said with a chuckle.

"That's not true!" she complained.

"How so? You take a hand so you can use it, right? And you want to take me in whole so you can use me. I don't see any difference. Anyway, what do you use those hands for?"

At this question, Hippolyta's blush deepened. Now her cheeks were more of a tomato than human.

Byron dangled his right hand in front of her face, demanding, "Use it!"

She did nothing.

He aggressively grabbed her face. "Use it!"

Nothing!

"Alright! What about me in whole then? What were you gonna use me for?"

Still nothing!

Byron could not believe it. This was not the Hippolyta he had expected. Meek and shy. Was she...

"Are you a virgin?" he asked.

She nodded her head, avoiding his gaze.

"How?"

Byron could not wrap his head around it.

"I was waiting for the right person and when I..." she trailed off.

"I know!" said Byron, remembering her love story with Orpheus; the musician who rescued her from the Underworld.

Byron cupped her face. "I know! When you finally found true love, Penthesilea killed you."

"And when my Orpheus brought me back for a second chance, Hera banneshed me into this cursed realm. Both because of Penthesilea."

"And that's why you hate her."

"Of course that's why I hate her. She took away my chances of having a lover. My chances of ever experiencing love making. She took everything from me. Wouldn't you hate her if it were you?"

To be honest, Hippolyta had a valid reason. Even though what happened to her wasn't entirely Penthesilea's fault, she had had a hand in it.

It was like Syvetta, Byron's girlfriend back in the modern world. He still blamed her for his accident, even though all she did was call him, and with a good intention.

He could understand why Hippolyta was so angry with Penthesilea.

But then again, you don't hate someone for an eternity. At some point, you have to understand that it wasn't her fault, and make peace with her.

You don't have to let it turn you into someone you're not. Hippolyta had allowed all those things. Hate blinded her, turned her into an evil queen and that was her fault, and only hers.

That's why Byron said, "Let's do something about that hate then!"

With this, his lips found hers. He lingered on the outside for a while, then when her heart started pounding, he pushed his tongue in between her plump soft lips, looking for a way inside her mouth.

His hands were not idle.

One was at her jaw, pulling her closer, the other on her chest, tearing her clothing apart.

It was a heated moment.

As his tongue intertwined hers, hungrily devouring each other, Byron felt her hands on his neck, jaw, hair... She had started participating.

Finally, he slowly led her on the bed and went on top of her. His lips left hers to allow her to catch some breath although he himself didn't take any break.

He instead kissed her neck, down to her chest then heard her gasping when his tongue touched her nipple.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

"So good!"