Seraphine's breath hitched, and instead of answering with words, she claimed his mouth in a deep, searing kiss. It wasn't the tentative exploration from before. This was raw, hungry. Her lips moved against his with a desperation that felt like she was trying to drink him in, her tongue sweeping past his teeth to tangle with his own.

Satou's hands came up to tangle in her silver-streaked hair, his draconic claws retracted to blunt nails that scraped gently against her scalp. The scent of her—jasmine and ozone and something uniquely her—filled his senses.

She broke the kiss, her mismatched eyes dark with need. "I want to touch you," she breathed, her voice a sultry rasp devoid of its usual calculated cadence. "Let me… let me show you what I want without a single spell."

He nodded, his own breath coming quicker. Her hands, usually so poised and deliberate, trembled slightly as they slid down his bare chest, tracing the ridges of his iridescent scales. They shimmered under her touch, shifting from deep violet to emerald green. She followed the line of his abdomen, past the lean muscle of his hips, until her fingers brushed the hot, hard length of him.

Satou sucked in a sharp breath. Her touch was electric, but not from magic—from the sheer intensity of her focus, her need to connect.

"You're so beautiful like this," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "All that power, so contained… so ready."

She leaned down, her blade-like wings folding tightly against her back. Her silver-streaked hair curtained them both as she took Satou dick into her mouth.

The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. Her mouth was hot, wet, and skilled. But it was the lack of magical compulsion that made it devastatingly intense. Every flick of her tongue, every gentle suction, was a choice. She explored him with a curious reverence, her tongue curling around the head, tracing the sensitive vein along the underside, before taking him deeper.

Satou's head fell back against the pillow, a groan rumbling in his chest. He could feel the clever, practiced movements of her tongue, a testament to centuries of understanding pleasure, but it was driven now by a genuine desire to please him, not to ensnare him. She hollowed her cheeks, drawing him in further, one hand coming up to cradle his sac, her thumb brushing gently over the sensitive skin.

"Seraphine," he gasped, his hips giving an involuntary twitch.

She hummed in response, the vibration travelling straight through him. Her mismatched eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, and he saw no triumph there, only a vulnerable, hungry hope. She was watching him, reading his reactions, adjusting her pace and pressure based on his ragged breaths and the tightening of his muscles. It was the most intimate thing he'd ever experienced.

The pleasure built, coiling tight in his gut. He was getting close, too close, and he wanted ,needed more of her.

Gently, he threaded his fingers through her hair, not pushing, just guiding. "Wait," he managed, his voice thick. "I need to taste you, too."

She released him with a soft, wet sound, her lips glistening. She allowed him to gently ease her onto her back, her wings sprawling beneath her. He settled between her thighs, the intoxicating scent of her arousal filling the air. He kissed the inside of her knee, then her thigh, his tongue tracing a slow, maddening path upward.

When he finally tasted her, she cried out, a sharp, genuine sound of surprise and pleasure. Her hips bucked off the bed. He held her firmly, his hands on her hips, and devoted himself to her. He lapped at her, finding the swollen bud of her clitoris and circling it with slow, firm strokes of his tongue. She was already so wet, her flavor sweet and musky.

"Satou… please," she begged, her voice breaking. Her hands fisted in the sheets. "More. I need…"

He obliged, sliding his tongue inside her, tasting her deeply before returning to her clit, sucking gently as he flicked the tip of his tongue against it. Her entire body tensed, a broken string of curses and pleas falling from her lips. She was coming apart, and he could feel the tremors starting in her thighs. He gentled his touch, letting her ride the aftershocks, before pulling back, his own need a sharp, urgent ache.

He positioned himself over her, the broad head of his erection pressing against her slick entrance. He met her gaze, a question in his eyes.

"Yes," she whispered, her corrupted purple and angelic blue eyes locked on his. "I want all of you. Please."

Satou pushed forward his dick slowly, watching her face. He felt the resistance, the tight, impossible barrier, and for a heartbeat he froze, confused.

A faint bloom of crimson appeared where they were joined.

Seraphine saw the shock in Satou mismatched eyes. Her lips curved in a small, shaky, knowing smile. "You're shocked that I am a virgin, right?" she breathed, her voice laced with a strange mix of pride and shame. "Three hundred years… and I have never had sex with anyone. I used my power to make them think they were satisfied. To make them see and feel whatever fantasy I crafted. This… you… are my first real touch."

The revelation crashed over Satou, but before he could process it, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper, breaking through completely with a sharp gasp. A single tear traced a path from her angelic blue eye. He stilled, letting her adjust, his heart pounding against his ribs.

"The pain is… nothing," she whispered, her voice full of wonder. She shifted her hips experimentally, and her gasp turned into a moan. "It's gone. All I feel is… you."

He began to move then, slow, deep thrusts that made her claw at his scaled back. The initial sting had vanished, replaced by a staggering fullness, a friction that sparked lightning up her spine with every stroke.

"Don't hold back," she demanded, her voice gaining strength, her hips rising to meet his. "I want to feel everything."

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