The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 456: Sleeping with a deity – 2

“I’ve seen power,” he answered, reaching out to trace a single finger down the center of her chest, between her breasts, stopping just above her navel.

“But this… this is different. This is you.”

He drew her closer again, this time skin to skin.

The contact was electric—his warmth against her divine vitality, the hard planes of his body pressing gently into her softer curves.

They kissed once more, slower still, tongues dancing in a lazy rhythm that built heat without urgency.

Jolthar’s hands roamed with reverence, sliding down her back to cup the full swell of her backside, pulling her hips against his. She gasped softly into his mouth as she felt him harden fully against her belly, thick and hot and insistent.

He broke the kiss to trail his lips along her jaw, down the column of her throat, tasting the faint salt of her skin.

“Tell me if anything feels wrong,” he whispered against her pulse.

“We stop the moment you want.”

“I don’t want to stop,” she breathed, her fingers threading into his hair, guiding him lower.

Jolthar obliged, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the upper curve of her breast before capturing a nipple between his lips. He sucked gently at first, then with more pressure, tongue flicking the sensitive peak until it tightened into a hard bud.

Haryntha’s head fell back, a soft moan escaping her— “Ahh… Jolthar…” —the sound echoing faintly in the stone alcove. His hand cupped her other breast, thumb circling the nipple in time with his mouth, drawing waves of pleasure that made her divine glow pulse brighter.

He lavished attention on both breasts, alternating between them, teeth grazing just enough to send sparks racing down her spine. Haryntha’s hands tightened in his hair, holding him close as her body responded with growing need. Between her thighs, wetness gathered, a slick heat that made her shift restlessly against him.

Jolthar sensed it.

He released her breast with a final, lingering lick and sank to his knees before her, looking up with that same wicked yet gentle smile.

“May I taste you?” he asked, hands sliding up her thighs.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

He parted her legs gently, guiding one over his shoulder for balance. The first touch of his tongue was slow, a broad stroke from her entrance to her clit that made her cry out softly.

He took his time, exploring every fold with patient thoroughness, savoring the taste of her arousal like a man at a feast. His tongue circled her clit in lazy spirals, then dipped lower to thrust shallowly inside her, drawing more of her wetness onto his tongue. She arched her back, fingers tangling in his hair as she gasped for breath. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down her spine, building a fire within her that threatened to consume her whole.

Haryntha’s hands found his shoulders for support, her knees weakening as pleasure built in steady waves.

“Oh… gods!!! That feels…!!” Her words dissolved into a long, low moan as he sealed his lips around her clit and sucked gently, two fingers sliding into her slick heat to curl against that perfect inner spot.

He worked her with deliberate care, tongue and fingers moving in harmony, building her pleasure layer by layer. Her hips rocked against his face, chasing the sensation, her divine power flaring in soft pulses that warmed the air around them.

When her climax approached, it was not a sudden crash but a slow, rolling wave. Her walls fluttered around his fingers, her clit throbbing under his tongue as she came with a broken cry—”Jolthar… yes… ahh!”—golden light bursting from her skin in a gentle bloom that lit the entire alcove.

He rose slowly, kissing his way back up her body, letting her taste herself on his lips when they met again. She clung to him, trembling, her hands sliding down to wrap around his hard length. He was thick and hot in her palm, pulsing with need.

She stroked him slowly, base to tip, learning the shape of him, the way he twitched under her touch.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered against his lips.

“Deeper. Just like this.”

Jolthar nodded, guiding her down onto the soft bedding they had laid out earlier. He settled between her parted thighs, the head of his cock nudging her entrance, slick with her arousal and his own.

He pushed in inch by inch, watching her face for any sign of discomfort, giving her body time to adjust to his girth. Her breath hitched as he filled her, a perfect fit that sent shivers down her spine.

Haryntha’s eyes fluttered shut, a long sigh escaping her as he filled her, stretching her walls most deliciously.

“So full…!!!” she murmured, legs wrapping around his hips to draw him deeper.

He began to move, slow, measured thrusts that dragged every inch of him against her sensitive inner walls. Each glide was deliberate, building friction and heat without haste. Haryntha met him with gentle rolls of her hips, the two of them finding a rhythm that felt like the steady pulse of a hearth fire—warm, constant, and life-giving.

Her hands roamed his back, nails tracing light lines down his spine, while his lips found hers again, the kiss matching the pace of their bodies.

Pleasure built gradually, a glowing ember fanned into flame.

Jolthar’s hand slipped between them, thumb circling her clit in time with his thrusts, drawing soft gasps from her with every pass.

“You feel incredible,” he breathed against her ear.

“So warm, so tight around me…”

Haryntha’s reply was a soft moan, her divine glow brightening as her second climax approached. “Jolthar!!! I’m close… don’t stop…!!!”

Jolthar’s movements became more urgent, his own release imminent as he quickened the pace. The fire crackled in the hearth, mirroring the passion between them as they reached their peak together, lost in the flames of desire.

Her walls began to flutter, clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that dragged him deeper with every thrust.

He maintained the slow, deep pace, letting her ride the wave until it crested.

She came with a soft, drawn-out cry, her body arching beneath him, golden light flooding the alcove once more. The sight of her unraveling—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, skin glowing like living flame—pushed Jolthar over the edge.

He buried himself to the hilt, groaning her name as he spilled inside her, pulse after pulse of hot seed flooding her depths while her walls milked him through the aftershocks.

They stayed joined for long minutes, breathing together, the fire crackling softly beside them. Jolthar brushed damp hair from her forehead, pressing a tender kiss to her temple.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

Haryntha smiled, a soft, sated curve of her lips that held centuries of warmth.

“More than okay,” she murmured, pulling him down for another slow kiss. “You make me feel… present. Alive in a way I haven’t felt in ages.”

He chuckled softly, rolling to his side and drawing her against his chest.

“Good. Because I’m not done surprising you yet.”

She laughed, a low, musical sound, nestling closer.

The fire burned steadily, pushing back the darkness of the Depths, while outside their small camp, the world waited. But for now, in the flickering heart of the underworld, there was only warmth, touch, and the slow, steady burn of something new.