Chapter 85 FINAL CHAPTER

Chapter 85 FINAL CHAPTER
My breath hitched, my body tightening around him as he drove into me with brutal, perfect precision. His wings tightened their cage around me, sealing us in heat and darkness, the leathery stretch of them brushing my shoulders.

“Asmodeus…” I whispered, voice trembling as he pulled almost all the way out… Only to slam back into me with a force that rattled the table and stole the sound from my lungs.

He growled—low, dangerous, aroused beyond reason, “Say it louder.”

His claws dragged up my sides, not breaking skin, but close—close enough to make my whole spine bow and my breath turn liquid.

“Asmodeus—” I cried out, louder, more desperate, clinging to the wood beneath my fingers.

He bent over me, chest pressed against my back, horns curving past my cheek as he licked up the side of my throat, slow and claiming.

“That’s my girl.”

His tongue dragged again. “My little sin. My perfect gift.”

He snapped his hips, the thrust so deep my scream cracked, my vision exploding into white static. He wasn’t just inside me—he owned every inch, every pulse, every desperate clench of my body around him. His hand slid beneath me, between my thighs, rubbing my swollen, oversensitive clit with slow, devastating circles while his cock pounded into me with savage, hungry rhythm.

I bucked, helpless, overstimulated, shaking.

“Too much—” I gasped.

He laughed into my skin, dark and cruel and dripping with lust, “No. This is exactly the amount I want you to take.”

His fingers pressed harder, his thrusts grew deeper, slamming me down on the table until it felt like my bones vibrated with every movement.

I shattered again—loud, uncontrollable, collapsing onto the table as my climax ripped through me like lightning.

But he didn’t stop.

He didn’t even slow.

He grabbed my hips, lifting me effortlessly, pulling me back against him like I weighed nothing at all. His wings flared wide, brushing my sides like dark flames as he held me suspended and impaled in one brutal, perfect thrust.

I screamed, choking on the sound.

He groaned—deep, guttural, a sound that vibrated in my bones.

“Your body was made for this. For me.”

Another thrust.

“You take a demon like me better than any mortal ever has.”

Another.

“You’re shaping yourself around my cock like you’ve been waiting centuries.”

I sobbed his name, half-pleasure, half-prayer, “Asmodeus…”

His breath hit my ear. “That’s right,” he growled. “Say it again. Say it until you forget every other name you’ve ever known.”

I cried it again, louder, shaking in his grip as he fucked me with inhuman force—like he wanted to ruin the table, the floor, the air between us. He flipped me again, onto my back this time, his body towering over mine, wings casting us in shadow, horns glowing faintly like molten stone. His eyes were pure sin, pure hunger, pure possession.

He grabbed my thighs and folded me in half, pressing my knees nearly to my chest before thrusting into me again with a growl that shook the room.

I screamed, back arching, nails clawing at the table.

“Yes…” he hissed. “Look at you. Open for me. Perfect for me.”

He leaned down, fangs dragging across my throat.

“I’m going to keep you like this,” he whispered. “Breathless. Bruised. Marked. And begging.”

His cock pulsed inside me and then his lips crushed mine again—devouring, claiming, ruthless, “And you’ll want more.”

My vision was blurred. My breath hitched. I felt high—drunk—wrecked.

His power wrapped around me like smoke, thickening the air, making it impossible to breathe without inhaling him. Lust itself pressed down on me like a weight.

I whimpered, trembling.

He leaned down, lips brushing the corner of my mouth without kissing, voice shaking.

“I want to break you.”

Another thrust—deep, punishing. His claws dragged along my thigh, “I want to see if your human body can take all of me.”

I couldn’t even speak.

Just a choked sound.

A moan.

A plea.

My head lulled back, eyes fluttering—vision fading in and out, pleasure so overwhelming it felt like drowning.

However, the way he was fucking me suddenly changed. Not slowed. Not gentled.

Shifted.

One moment Asmodeus was pounding into me with that brutal, demon‑drunk hunger… and then his body shuddered, like something inside him pulled tight. His shoulders rolled back. His breath dragged in harsher. His grip on my hips tightened so abruptly I gasped.

And the look in his eyes—

God.

It wasn’t the same.

The whites darkened. The gold sharpened. And the way he stared at me… it was still hungry, but not the demon’s wild hunger.

It was gentler. Claiming. Human.

Lucian.

I knew that look.

The one he wore when he wanted something he should never touch.

The one he wore when he was close to snapping.

His next thrust was different.

Not reckless.

Not demonic.

He dragged my body down onto him like he needed to feel every twitch I made, every breath I struggled to take. Heat rushed through me, my legs shaking, my nails clawing at his arms because whatever was happening inside that shared body… it wasn’t a fight about me.

It was a fight for me.

His jaw clenched. His muscles trembled under my hands, like something inside was battling to move, to rise, to take. He squeezed my waist hard enough that I whimpered, then slammed into me with a force that wasn’t Asmodeus’s rhythm.

This was Lucian.

This was him taking from the inside, pulling the body toward his own need.

“Lucian—?” I breathed, not even sure why I said his name. But the second the sound left my mouth, the body reacted—hips snapping forward, hand closing around my throat in a slow, claiming grip.

His eyes flickered again—demon gold, then human gold, then something darker, hungrier.

The demon wasn’t easing for me.

He wasn’t being controlled for my sake either.

Lucian wanted his turn.

His own claim as well.

His right to me.

They fucked me harder.
My breath stuttered. My back arched. My vision blurred as heat shot through me like I was being taken by both forces at once—one twisting the pleasure into wildness, the other shaping it into something unbearably deliberate.

And my body responded.
Every muscle, every nerve, every trembling moan bending, pressing, opening for them.

The rhythm changed. Harder. Faster. Angrier.
Sharp pulses of pleasure drove through me, hotter than anything I’d felt before.

I gasped, my walls clenching around him as the body moved with both of them inside, one thrusting with feral lust, the other with calculated hunger. I was awake. I was trembling. I was dripping and begging. My body wasn’t failing. It wasn’t overwhelmed. It was responding. To both of them. At once. And I was perfectly, painfully and completely theirs.

\~~~
Vale’s mansion had turned into a regular meeting spot for the sins, where they gathered to talk and catch up. The living room felt colder than usual, the temperature dropping slightly, while a faint, oppressive aura seemed to settle over the group. Reuben stood quietly near Ezra, his usual imposing presence somehow lessened — something caught Ciel’s attention right away.
“Hey... is it just me, or do you look thinner than when we left the Bone Orchard?” Ciel asked, narrowing her eyes as she studied him carefully.
The others followed her gaze and nodded subtly. Reuben did look noticeably leaner than before the orchard collapsed.
Reuben shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous gesture—and answered quietly, “I’ve been skipping meals.”
“Why? You love food. You always eat,” Enoch said, frowning in confusion.
Reuben gave a small, tired shrug. “I just... haven’t felt like it.”
“Fasting now? Planning to pray or something? That doesn’t sound like you,” Malachi said as he raised an eyebrow and then scoffed, as if the mere thought disgusted him.
Reuben sighed and glanced away for a moment. “A mortal... called me fat.”
The room fell silent. Even Vale, usually indifferent to such matters, seemed taken aback. The weight of the statement lingered in the air until Benedict’s sharp laughter broke the quiet.
His laughter was loud, shaking the room with dark energy. “Well, the mortal isn’t lying,” Benedict said, barely able to contain his amusement. “But seriously, when did you ever care what anyone thought about you?”
Malachi raised his glass, smirking. “I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who called you fat. Did it ever stop you? No. So why let a mortal’s insult matter now?”
Enoch’s tone took on a teasing edge as she leaned forward slightly. “The mortal was telling the truth. You weren’t just fat, you were enormous. But if the words hit you that hard, why not just exterminate him?”
The room’s attention tightened on Reuben. Vale and Ezra’s eyes locked onto him, silently demanding an answer.
Seeing the look they all gave him, Reuben felt regret. If he had known, he would've just made up an excuse, but it was too late to back out now.
"What's the fun of killing him so fast?" Reuben drawled, leaning back like he had all the time in the world. "That would be granting him an easy escape.....and mortals who insult a sin don't get to slip out through something as gentle as death"

"Killing him would be kindness." He leaned forward, his voice dripping into something cold, patient and cruel. "And you should know by now that I don't do kindness."
The others seemed satisfied by his statement, so they changed the topic. However, Vale had his piercing gaze pinned on his back, as if he could see through him.