The Last Human: Unlimited Power, Unlimited Beauties

I finished bathing much faster than a responsible man probably should have.

Not because I was impatient.

Absolutely not.

I was simply demonstrating remarkable efficiency under pressure.

Professional skill.

By the time I left the spring bath, I had a towel wrapped around my waist and approximately zero intention of wasting another second pretending I was interested in the inn’s architecture.

Leyra had said she had something waiting for me.

Then, with the kind of shameless confidence that could cause governments to collapse, she had clarified exactly what that something was.

Her.

Good sales pitch.

Very effective.

I walked through the quiet hallway toward my room.

Most of the knights were either downstairs or stationed outside the inn. A few remained in the upper corridor, but none stopped me. They bowed politely as I passed, probably assuming I was returning from an ordinary bath.

Wonderful men.

Innocent men.

Men whose evening was about to become significantly more educational than they deserved.

I reached my room.

Opened the door.

Stopped.

Leyra was sitting on my bed.

Wearing only a towel.

For several seconds, I simply stood there.

The room was lit by two small lamps near the walls, their warm glow softening everything around her. Her golden hair was still damp from the spring bath, hanging freely over her shoulders and down her back. The towel wrapped around her body barely preserved enough modesty to qualify as clothing.

Her long legs were bare.

Her shoulders were bare.

Her face was still flushed from what we had done in the bath.

And those blue eyes were fixed directly on me.

Not shy.

Not princess-perfect.

Intense.

Hungry.

I quietly closed the door behind me.

“Well.”

Leyra didn’t respond.

I smiled.

“What a beautiful present.”

Nothing.

No teasing answer.

No embarrassed denial.

She simply stood.

That should have warned me.

Leyra crossed the room quickly.

Her hand caught the back of my neck.

The other grabbed my arm.

Then the crown princess reminded me that she had once been the undefeated champion of an underground arena.

My balance vanished.

She pulled.

Turned.

And shoved me backward with enough force to make the mattress bounce when I landed.

I stared up at the ceiling.

“Subtle.”

Leyra climbed onto the bed.

Her body moved over mine.

One knee settled beside my hip.

Then the other.

She straddled me, staring downward with an expression I had never seen on Princess Leyra in public.

No delicate smile.

No careful royal mannerisms.

No hesitation.

Just determination mixed with enough desire to make the air between us feel noticeably warmer.

I raised an eyebrow.

“Princess?”

“Shut up.”

Oh.

I liked this version.

Before I could tell her that, she leaned down and kissed me.

Hard.

Not the slow exploratory kisses from the garden.

Not the half-teasing ones from the spring.

This kiss had purpose.

Her mouth pressed against mine with enough force to push my head deeper into the pillow. Her fingers tightened around the side of my neck while her other hand moved lower.

My towel disappeared.

She pulled it loose and tossed it somewhere behind her.

No ceremony.

No appreciation for inn property.

Just gone.

My hand started moving toward her waist.

Leyra caught my wrist.

Pinned it beside my head.

I blinked.

She pulled away from the kiss just enough to breathe.

“I said shut up.”

“I wasn’t speaking.”

“You were about to.”

“Fair.”

Then her attention shifted lower.

Her confidence remained strong, but I caught the change in her breathing when she reached for me.

The woman knew what she wanted.

That did not mean she wasn’t nervous.

She guided me beneath her.

Positioned herself.

Then paused.

For the first time since entering the room, uncertainty crossed her face.

Not regret.

Not fear.

Just the realization that this was actually happening.

Her first time.

She looked at me.

I softened.

“You can slow down.”

Leyra frowned.

“Why?”

“Because this is your first time.”

She remained still.

“It might hurt.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Not exactly the reaction I expected.

“I know.”

“So maybe don’t treat this like you’re attacking an arena opponent.”

Leyra’s jaw tightened.

“I’ll decide how I do this.”

I stared at her.

There she was.

Merciless Lioness.

Apparently virginity had been classified as an opponent.

I shrugged.

“Your call.”

Her expression sharpened with satisfaction.

Then she began lowering herself.

Slowly.

The first contact made her breath stop.

Her fingers pressed against my chest.

She pushed farther.

Her face tightened.

Pain.

Clear.

She made a low sound in her throat but kept going.

I resisted every instinct to grab her hips and control the pace.

She had made it very clear.

This was hers.

Leyra descended another little distance.

Her breathing shook.

She stopped.

Closed her eyes.

Then continued.

Determined.

Stubborn.

Very Leyra.

I watched her face the entire time.

Every tiny reaction.

The way her brows pulled together.

The way her lips parted whenever the stretch became stronger.

The way her hand flattened over my chest as though borrowing stability from me while refusing to admit she needed it.

Then finally she settled fully over me.

Leyra froze.

A long moan escaped her.

Her face immediately dropped against my chest.

Golden hair spilled over me.

I placed one hand gently against her back.

“Hurts that much?”

She lifted her face.

Mistake.

I knew immediately.

The question had become a challenge.

Her eyes narrowed.

“No.”

That was absolutely a lie.

Before I could call it one, Leyra lifted her hips.

Then lowered herself again.

Her breath hitched.

Another movement followed.

Still uncertain.

Still awkward.

But she was learning.

No guidance.

No instructions.

She simply felt what happened and adjusted.

Of course she did.

The woman had taught herself to fight secretly for years.

Apparently she intended to approach intimacy the same way.

Observe.

Adapt.

Win.

She moved again.

A little smoother.

Then again.

Her expression slowly changed.

Pain remained.

But pleasure had begun weaving through it.

Enough that her shoulders relaxed.

Enough that her movements became more confident.

Leyra reached for my hands.

She grabbed both wrists.

Then placed my palms against her breasts.

I smiled.

“Thought I wasn’t allowed to move.”

“You’re allowed to do that.”

Very generous.

I cupped her.

Soft.

Full.

Warm beneath my hands.

Leyra moaned.

The sound came immediately.

She moved again, noticeably harder.

Interesting.

I massaged her breasts more firmly.

Her hips answered with a faster rhythm.

Oh.

Connection established.

I squeezed again.

Leyra leaned down and kissed me.

Hard.

Her tongue entered my mouth before I could take control of the kiss.

I let her.

She was apparently determined to run the entire operation herself.

Her hips continued moving while our mouths worked together.

Her confidence grew by the second.

The awkwardness disappeared.

Each motion became smoother.

Then faster.

Her teeth caught my lower lip.

Not enough to hurt badly.

Enough to make me react.

I kissed her harder in return.

Leyra made a satisfied sound into my mouth.

Competitive.

Of course she was competitive while kissing.

She finally pulled away for air.

Then leaned backward.

My hands remained against her chest.

Leyra caught them.

Pressed my palms harder into her breasts.

“More.”

I obeyed.

Her body responded instantly.

Her hips moved harder.

The range of her motion became wider because of the size she was accommodating, forcing her to rise farther before dropping back down.

Each movement became more confident.

More forceful.

Her breathing deepened.

The mattress began creaking beneath us.

Leyra’s damp golden hair shifted across her back.

Her breasts moved heavily in my hands with every rise and fall.

She watched my face.

Not constantly.

But enough.

She wanted to know what I liked.

She also clearly enjoyed knowing she was the one doing it.

Then she did something unexpected.

Leyra took one of my hands.

Lifted it.

Brought it toward her mouth.

I raised an eyebrow.

She kept eye contact.

Then slowly dragged her tongue over one finger.

Then the next.

Every finger.

Deliberate.

Teasing.

Her eyes stayed on mine the entire time.

Well.

Someone had found confidence quickly.

When she finished, she placed my hand back against her breast.

Then grabbed the other.

Same treatment.

Slow.

Warm.

Her tongue traced each finger before she returned that hand too.

I stared.

Leyra’s smile turned smug.

“This feels really good.”

I laughed.

“I’m starting to notice.”

She leaned forward again.

Her face moved beside mine.

Warm breath touched my neck.

Her hips never stopped.

In fact, they accelerated.

Her chest pressed against my hands.

Then her lips touched my neck.

One kiss.

Then her tongue.

Slowly upward.

I inhaled.

Leyra noticed.

Naturally.

She moved higher.

Across my jaw.

Another teasing lick.

Then my cheek.

I laughed breathlessly.

“What are you doing?”

“Whatever I want.”

Fair.

She kissed the corner of my mouth.

Not fully.

Just enough to frustrate me.

Then she shivered.

I felt it immediately.

Her entire body tightened.

Her breath stumbled against my face.

She froze for half a heartbeat.

“I feel it.”

I knew exactly what she meant.

“You’re close.”

Leyra nodded.

Then kissed me.

Hard.

Her rhythm dissolved.

No more clean movements.

No more deliberate pace.

Her hips moved erratically now, chasing sensation rather than technique.

Her mouth stayed over mine.

Every moan disappeared into the kiss.

At least she had learned something from the bath.

Sort of.

Her fingers dug into my shoulders.

The tension in her thighs became stronger.

Her body started trembling.

I caught her hips.

Helped steady her.

Not controlling.

Just keeping her moving while pleasure destroyed her coordination.

Leyra kissed me even harder.

Her moans vibrated against my mouth.

Then it hit.

Her body locked.

She pulled away from the kiss only because she needed air.

A sharp cry escaped.

Her back arched.

Her entire body shivered above me.

Hard.

Her hips moved twice more without rhythm.

Then stopped.

Leyra collapsed onto my chest.

I held her.

Her breathing came fast.

Almost panting.

She trembled for several seconds longer before gradually relaxing.

I brushed my hand along her back.

Her face stayed buried against me.

“Alive?”

She weakly hit my shoulder.

I smiled.

Good sign.

A few seconds passed.

Then more.

Leyra finally lifted her head.

Her face was beautifully flushed.

Eyes unfocused.

Hair everywhere.

Princess perfection had suffered serious structural damage.

I kissed her forehead.

She exhaled.

Then I moved.

Leyra’s eyes widened.

I guided her off me carefully.

Turned her.

She allowed it, probably too dazed to immediately realize what I intended.

I positioned her toward the wall beside the bed.

Her hands landed against it.

Leyra glanced back over her shoulder.

There.

That expression.

Instant understanding.

Her breathing changed again.

I moved behind her.

One hand settled against her hip.

The other along her waist.

Then I brought our bodies together.

Leyra inhaled sharply when I joined her again from behind.

She tightened around me.

I paused.

Mostly because her first time had happened approximately several minutes ago and I was not completely insane.

Leyra looked back.

“Don’t.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t what?”

“Hold back.”

Her voice was low.

Serious.

“If you go easy on me, I’ll be angry.”

I smiled.

“You’re threatening me during sex.”

“Yes.”

“Romantic.”

Leyra pressed her palms more firmly against the wall.

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

I leaned toward her ear.

“I won’t.”

Then I moved.

Hard.

Immediately.

Leyra cried out.

Her body jolted forward.

The wall caught her palms.

I moved again.

Same force.

Another moan.

Then I established the rhythm she had asked for.

Fast.

Strong.

Unrestrained.

The room filled with sound.

Mattress creaking.

Skin meeting skin.

Leyra’s breathing.

Her moans.

My own increasingly uneven breath.

She pressed her face closer to the wall.

Golden hair swayed down her back with every motion.

Her body reacted beautifully.

Hips meeting mine.

Shoulders tensing.

Fingers spreading against the wall.

“Yes.”

Her voice broke.

“Harder.”

Of course.

I tightened my grip on her hips.

Increased the force.

Leyra moaned louder.

Much louder.

“More.”

I laughed breathlessly.

“You really don’t do anything halfway.”

“Harder.”

Message received.

I gave her more.

Her head tilted back.

Then she said, “Pull my hair.”

I stopped smiling for approximately half a second.

Then caught a handful of her golden hair carefully near the base.

Pulled.

Not enough to hurt beyond what she wanted.

Enough to guide her head back and expose the side of her neck.

Leyra gasped.

Her body immediately reacted.

“Oh…”

I moved faster.

Her hair stayed in my hand.

Her breathing became wild.

Then footsteps sounded outside the room.

Several.

Armored.

Oh, for the love of all things inconvenient.

A knight’s voice came through the wall.

“Sir Caled?”

I slowed.

Leyra immediately looked back at me with betrayal.

The knight continued.

“Is everything all right? I thought I heard the princess.”

I closed my eyes briefly.

Of course he did.

She had been announcing our activities to neighboring counties.

I cleared my throat.

“Everything is fine.”

Leyra tapped my leg.

I ignored her.

“We’re just talking.”

The silence outside became profound.

Talking.

Brilliant.

Absolutely believable.

Leyra tapped my leg again.

Harder.

I looked at her.

She mouthed something.

Then whispered, “I said harder.”

I stared.

This woman.

The knights were literally standing outside asking whether she needed rescue, and Leyra was currently more upset that I had reduced the pace.

Fine.

I resumed.

Fast.

Leyra immediately moaned directly toward the wall.

The exact wall behind which the knights were standing.

I almost laughed.

The knight’s voice rose.

“Princess?”

Leyra clicked her tongue.

Actually irritated.

“Your Highness, are you certain you’re all right?”

She looked furious.

Not embarrassed.

Furious at being interrupted.

While I kept moving, Leyra straightened as much as the position allowed.

And somehow, somehow, restored her princess voice.

“I am perfectly fine.”

I nearly lost the rhythm laughing.

The contrast was incredible.

Her body moved with every strong motion behind her.

Her hair was in my hand.

Her breathing was clearly unstable.

And yet her voice sounded like she was answering a question at court.

The knight hesitated.

“Princess, we heard…”

Leyra narrowed her eyes.

“Please leave us alone.”

Still polite.

Mostly.

The knight apparently did not recognize the warning.

“Are you sure?”

Bad decision.

Leyra’s entire expression changed.

The princess vanished.

The Merciless Lioness appeared.

Her voice dropped.

Sharp.

Commanding.

“I said leave us alone.”

Silence.

Beautiful silence.

I could practically hear the knights mentally reviewing whether the person speaking was actually Crown Princess Leyra.

Because that voice?

That was not the delicate flower they knew.

That was the woman I had fought underground.

The woman who had knocked trained fighters unconscious.

Someone outside swallowed.

Audibly.

Then came the careful reply.

“As you command, Princess.”

Footsteps retreated.

Fast.

I waited until they were gone.

Then resumed even harder.

Leyra moaned.

No attempt to hide it now.

I leaned closer.

“Too much for the delicate princess?”

Her eyes flashed.

“I don’t care anymore.”

There.

Something in those words mattered.

Not only about the sex.

The knights had heard her.

Heard that other voice.

Maybe only for a moment.

And Leyra had not collapsed from embarrassment.

She was still here.

Still herself.

I smiled.

“I like that.”

Then I gave her exactly what she had asked for.

No holding back.

Her moans filled the room.

Every movement shook her composure further until there was nothing royal left in the sounds coming from her.

Just Leyra.

Real.

Unrestrained.

She pushed back against me.

Met every motion.

Her body began trembling again.

“Caled…”

I tightened my hold.

“Yeah?”

“Almost.”

I smiled.

“Again?”

She glared back.

I moved harder.

The glare became a gasp.

“I’m close too.”

Leyra’s eyes softened.

Then she shifted.

Leaned backward.

Her spine met my chest.

I released her hair.

She reached behind herself and grabbed my wrists.

Then pulled my hands forward.

Placed them against her breasts.

“Together.”

I cupped her firmly.

Leyra moaned.

Her head rested against my shoulder.

I kissed the side of her face.

Then moved faster.

The last stretch became chaotic.

Her breasts moved in my hands.

Her breathing broke.

Her hips lost their rhythm.

Mine did too.

Leyra’s entire body tightened.

I felt my own limit approaching with hers.

Closer.

Closer.

She cried out.

I held her tighter.

One final deep movement brought us together.

Then release overtook me.

I stayed close as heat flooded between us.

Leyra shivered violently in my arms at the same moment.

Her nails dug into my forearms.

Her head fell back.

A long moan escaped.

Neither of us moved properly for several seconds.

Just breathing.

Trembling.

Holding on.

Then the tension slowly faded.

I loosened my grip.

Leyra’s legs seemed to briefly forget their career.

I caught her around the waist and guided her carefully onto the bed.

She landed softly.

Rolled onto her back.

Looked up at me.

Then smiled.

Not princess smile.

Not Lioness grin.

Something between them.

Satisfied.

Dangerous.

I sat beside her.

Leyra’s eyes traveled over me.

Then she said, completely calmly, “You finished inside the crown princess without asking permission.”

I froze.

Looked at her.

She raised one eyebrow.

“I hope you’re aware there could be consequences.”

I stared.

Then slowly said, “Now that you phrase it that way…”

Leyra maintained the serious expression for another second.

Then it cracked.

She laughed softly.

Reached toward me.

Her hand touched my cheek.

Gentle.

Completely different from everything we had just done.

She pulled me closer.

Kissed me.

Soft.

Warm.

Short.

Then whispered, “I’m joking.”

I exhaled.

“I certainly hope so.”

Leyra smiled.

“However…”

There it was.

Political trap.

“To avoid punishment…”

I raised an eyebrow.

“…you should keep me happy for the entire night.”

I laughed.

“That’s your sentence?”

“Yes.”

“Terrible justice system.”

“You object?”

“Not remotely.”

Leyra’s hand moved lower.

Found me already responding again.

Her eyebrows rose.

Then that mischievous smile returned.

“I see.”

I looked down.

Then back at her.

“Quick recovery.”

Leyra’s fingers wrapped around me.

Her confidence was completely different now.

No nervous first-time hesitation.

She leaned toward my ear.

“Then I’m glad we understand each other.”

So we continued.

Again.

Then again.

And later, again.

After that I stopped counting because numbers had become emotionally unnecessary.

No knights interrupted us anymore.

Not once.

They knew.

We knew they knew.

They knew we knew they knew.

Everyone silently agreed that acknowledging any of this would create paperwork nobody wanted.

Excellent diplomatic solution.

Leyra was something else.

Once she had crossed that first barrier, restraint apparently packed its belongings and permanently left the country.

She did exactly what she wanted.

If she wanted control, she took it.

If she wanted me to take over, she told me.

If she wanted harder, she said harder.

If she wanted another round, she pulled me back before I could even pretend we were finished.

And the sounds?

No shame anymore.

No hiding against pillows unless she felt like it.

No worrying about knights in the next room.

Leyra moaned as loudly as pleasure demanded.

Sometimes she laughed afterward when she realized just how much noise she had made.

Sometimes she did not care enough even to do that.

Maybe I had given her a little courage.

Maybe the woman had always possessed it and simply needed permission to stop hiding.

Either way, watching Leyra finally refuse to hold herself back was very, very good.