100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 162 - If Kiss was Answer... I'd top


I closed the distance between us.

Her lips trembled, inches from mine. The space separating us felt electric—charged with everything unspoken, everything about to change.

When our mouths finally connected, time slowed.

Warm. The heat radiating from her lips hit me first, contrasting sharply against my skin still cold from the night air. Soft didn't even begin to describe it.

In both lifetimes, I had never felt anything quite like this; technically, I did with Mira and Helena, but Kaida was quite a handful to hold, unlike the soft cushions that my two wives were.

Mira was too proactive to nearly devour my lips with her suction pulling off my tongue; Helena was super hot with too much submission, but Kaida? She was fighting back.

If I have to say, I can't win against Mira; Helena would not even hold up in a fight, but my red darling... she was just too energetic to tame.

Kaida's entire body locked up.

Every muscle went rigid against me. Her hands, which had been pushing weakly at my chest, froze mid-motion.

Through the thin, torn fabric of her top, her heartbeat hammered against my chest—frantic, wild, like something caged and desperate.

The press of her breasts registered dimly. Athletic, firm—not the massive boobs of Mira or Helena, but they fit against me with their own appeal. Delicate C-cups that seemed made for my hands.

I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.

"If you really want me to stop," I said, my voice rougher than intended, "say it now."

Her lips parted. Those red eyes—wide, pupils blown with something between fear and want—locked onto mine like she was searching for an anchor in a storm.

Nothing came out at first.

Just trembling. Just her breath coming faster.

"I..." The crack in her voice made my cock twitch. "Just do whatever you want, pervert."

Surrender. Raw and unfiltered. The words shot straight to my groin, making me swell painfully against the loosening towel at my waist.

"Don't regret it." My hand found her waist—narrow, marked with the raised texture of old scars I traced even through the fabric. Combat wounds. A warrior's body. "When I have my way with you, my new wife."

I kissed her again, deeper this time.

Her lips parted—barely, almost involuntarily—and I took the invitation.

The moment my tongue grazed hers, Kaida's teeth clamped down.

Not biting. Just sealing herself shut like some last-ditch defense, stubborn even now.

My free hand—the one not chained to hers—slid down her side. Over the curve of her hip. Around to that ass I'd been watching all day straining against those ridiculous short jeans.

I grabbed her right cheek hard.

The denim resisted my grip, rough against my palm, but underneath the muscle tensed. Firm from years of riding. Toned from combat.

The kind of ass built from function, not vanity—but beneath the hard muscle, softness gave way. The perfect combination made my fingers sink in slightly despite the fabric barrier.

I squeezed, testing how much she'd yield.

Kaida jerked against me. Her hands pushed harder at my chest—still weak, still betrayed by a body that wouldn't obey her mind.

I spread my grip wider. Both cheeks now, fingers digging in through the denim, pulling them apart.

The fabric stretched tight—so tight the seam had to be digging into her crack, separating everything.

Her entire body went stiff.

Rising onto her toes as I yanked her ass cheeks further apart, she pressed harder against me. Her breasts crushed into my chest with more force, and through the fabric I registered something different—her nipples. Tiny points, inverted from the cold, digging into me like pebbles.

Heat radiated from between her legs where my forearm brushed her inner thigh. Humid warmth that cut through the denim.

I spread her wider.

That seam had to be torture now—rubbing right against both holes, her pussy and that tight little asshole I'd breached by accident in the cave.

The memory made precum leak into my towel.

"Mngh—!"

The wince vibrated against my mouth.

And just like that, she opened.

My tongue invaded immediately, pushing past her teeth into wet heat. The taste overwhelmed my senses—clean, faintly herbal from dinner, and underneath something distinctly 'her'.

Addictive. The warmth of her mouth versus the cold air on my face created contrast that made my cock throb.

Her tongue tried retreating, but I chased it down. Wrapped around it. Pinned it and stroked along the length until—

A sound escaped her. Somewhere between protest and something else entirely.

My hand released her ass, sliding up her back instead. Over scarred skin—raised welts, old sword cuts, the texture of battles won and lost. Up to her neck, then into her red hair, gripping the back of her head.

Not painful. Just possessive. Keeping her exactly where I wanted.

While dominating her mouth, my free hand moved with purpose.

Down her side, feeling each rib beneath thin fabric—lean, athletic, zero excess. To her hip where the waistband sat low.

My fingers hooked into the denim.

Instant tension rippled through her. Her hands grabbed my wrist. "Mmph!" The protest got swallowed by my kiss.

I yanked the button free. Pop.

Her grip tightened on my wrist, trying to stop me. "Nnn—mmph—!" But I just held her head firmer, angling her face up as I deepened the kiss.

My tongue worked her mouth with brutal efficiency. Deep strokes that built up saliva fast, overflowing from our joined lips to drip down her chin in warm trails that cooled instantly.

The zipper came next. Slow. Tooth by tooth. Zzzzzzzip.

"Nnngh—!" She tried pulling away, tried speaking, but I sucked her tongue hard enough to make her whole lower face tingle.

The jeans loosened.

I hooked fingers into the waistband—elastic of thin panties underneath, already damp—and pulled.

The denim fought me. Tight against her athletic thighs and firm ass, clinging like a second skin.

Had to work it down. Yanking in increments, fabric peeling away inch by inch. The sound of it sliding against skin mixed with her muffled protests, creating a symphony of surrender.

Her hands left my wrist to clutch desperately at the jeans. "Mmph—nnn—!" But her grip was weak, distracted by my mouth, by my tongue in her throat.

Cool night air hit newly exposed skin.

She shivered violently as the jeans slid past her hips. Past her ass—which gave a slight jiggle as it was freed. Down her thighs until bunched around her knees.

Her panties came with them—simple cotton, practical, rolled down to expose everything.

I released her mouth to look.

Saliva connected our lips as I pulled back, both of us gasping. The strand stretched between us, glistening before breaking and landing on her heaving chest.

Kaida's face was crimson. Red eyes wide and unfocused, lips swollen and slick. Drool leaked from the corner of her mouth. Thoroughly kissed.

My gaze dropped lower.

Moonlight caught on bare skin. Her flat stomach, muscles tensing. The V of her hips, leading to—

Pink. Glistening. Already wet.

Her pussy lips pressed tightly together, small and neat, with a trimmed landing strip of red hair above—practical, like everything about her.

The kind that looked like it'd grip tight around anything entering. Her outer lips were swollen with arousal, catching moonlight on their wetness.

"W-wait—" Her voice came out hoarse. "Not here—someone might see—the windows—Elara could look out—"

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