I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he murmured, stopping just behind her chair. “We’re just getting started.”

Her heart pounded painfully, every nerve screaming at his closeness. She kept her eyes fixed on Augustus, his frail hand limp in hers. She wouldn’t give Julian the satisfaction of turning—of facing that smug, predatory grin she knew was waiting.

“Get out,” she hissed, her tone low and venomous. “Now.”

Julian didn’t reply right away. Instead, she felt the air shift, a faint flow of energy prickling her skin. She froze. She knew that sensation—had felt it before when he worked his power on Augustus.

“What are you—” she started, whipping her head around, but it was too late.

Julian’s hand hovered over Augustus’s chest, and a faint thread of golden energy flowed from them. The energy flickered briefly, then dimmed before sinking into Augustus’s body.

It was not to heal this time, but to suppress. His breathing slowed further. His chest barely rose now, his head falling to one side.

“Julian!” Gregoria shot to her feet, rushing toward him. “What did you do?!” she spat, her voice cracking with fury and fear. Her hands clenched into fists as she stopped just in front of him.

He lowered his hand, turning to face her with a calm smirk. “Relax, Grandma,” he said, his tone infuriatingly casual. “He’s fine—just sleeping deeper now. No more coughing, no more interruptions.”

He stepped closer, closing the space she had tried to keep between them. “Thought we could use some privacy.”

Gregoria’s breath hitched, rage boiling in her chest as she glared up at him. “You… you monster,” she spat, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “He’s your grandfather—dying—and you’re playing with his life like it’s nothing!” Her hands shook, itching to slap him, but she held back, her gaze darting to Augustus’s still form. “Undo it. Now.”

Julian tilted his head, his smirk widening as he studied her. “Undo it?” he repeated. “Why would I? He’s out of the way now—no more weak little coughs to pull you away from me.” He reached out, his fingers brushing her arm, and she stumbled back quickly.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, her voice rising despite her effort to keep it steady. “You think this gives you power over me? Knocking him out like some… some puppet you can control?” Her eyes raged, but beneath the fury, there was a hint of helplessness.

Augustus was at his mercy. And so was she.

Julian laughed softly, stepping closer still. “Power? Grandma, I already have it.” His hand shot out, catching her wrist before she could pull away. “You’re the one fighting it—running to him like he can save you from what’s already happened.”

His voice dropped, low and intimate, as he leaned in. “My cum’s still dripping out of you, isn’t it? You can’t wash that away—can’t pretend I haven’t claimed you.”

Gregoria’s face flushed, a mix of shame and outrage flooding her as his words hit too close.

She yanked her wrist free, stumbling back a step. “You’re sick,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “This isn’t a game, Julian—Augustus could die because of you!”

He shrugged, unfazed, his eyes never leaving hers. “He won’t. Not yet.” He took another step, backing her toward the wall, his tone turning colder.

“I can keep him like this—out cold, breathing just enough—or I can wake him up. Maybe even fix him a little more. That’s up to you, Grandma.” His smirk sharpened, dangerous.

“What’ll it be? Are you going to play nice, or do I leave him like this ’til you figure it out?”

Gregoria’s back hit the wall. Her hands pressed against the cold stone as she stared at him, trapped. Her chest heaved, her mind racing—Augustus’s life was in his hands, and she had no say whatsoever.

She glanced at her husband, then back to Julian. “You’re a bastard,” she said, her voice defeated but still defiant. “What do you want from me?”

Julian’s smirk softened, but the predatory edge remained. “You know what I want,” he murmured, reaching out to tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Say you’re mine—mean it this time—and I’ll wake him up. Refuse, and he stays like this. Your call.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She turned her head away, breaking the contact, her eyes narrowing with a surge of resolve.

“I’ll never be yours,” she spat, her voice steady now, cutting through the tension like a blade. “Not like this—not ever. You can’t force that out of me, Julian, no matter what you do to him.”

Julian’s smirk faltered for a split second, a flicker of something—anger, amusement?—crossing his face before his expression hardened.

“Never?” he repeated. His hands shot out, slamming against the wall on both sides of her head. The suddenness of the movement made her flinch, her breath catching as he caged her, his body mere inches from hers.

“Are you sure about that, Grandma?” He murmured, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. He leaned in, his chest brushing against hers, pinning her tighter against the wall.

The heat of him was overwhelming, his scent flooding her senses. “You’re shaking,” he noted, his lips curling into a cruel smile as he tilted his head. “Saying no, but your body’s screaming yes.”

“Get—off—me,” she hissed, her voice trembling under his weight.

She could feel him—his chest pressing into her, his hips dangerously close, the hardness of him brushing her thigh through his robe. Her face burned, the memory of his cum still drying on her skin amplifying her disgust—and her unwanted heat.

Julian didn’t budge. His hands slid down the wall to grip her shoulders, holding her firmly in place.

“You’re mine already,” he whispered, his lips hovering near her neck. “You can fight it all you want, but I feel it—right here.” His one hand lowered, pressing against her chest, just above her racing heart. “You can’t lie to me, Grandma. Not after everything.”