Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise! - Chapter 461

Chapter 461: Flames of Lust (R-18)

He stood up.

Not in a rush—no, Pyris moved with that kind of power that knew everything in the room already belonged to him.

And she trembled.

Lekiza—the Human Princess, the one who used to glare at him from across war tables—stood there now, ruined in want. Her breath was shaky. Her legs quivered, barely holding up. Eyes glossy with the kind of hunger that burned away logic.

She didn’t care that he was the same man who’d shamed her father publicly.

Didn’t care he was fucking her sister.

Didn’t care that war with her bloodline—and the gods—was inevitable.

All she wanted… was this.

Him.

Inside her.

Claiming her.

He smiled. A slow, cruel, divine smile.

She needed this.

He circled behind the couch like a predator playing with prey, until he stood just behind her shaking body.

Without a word, his hands caught her wrists—and with a soft whisper in his native tongue, ropes of pink-golden flame shimmered into life, lashing her arms together in a heat that didn’t burn… unless he willed it.

Her gasp was instant. Her breath hitched as the ropes pulsed like they were alive, laced with every ounce of twisted pleasure his fire could summon.

The Corrupted Lust inside him shuddered in satisfaction.

Pyris stepped forward again, now facing her.

She was completely exposed—her gown torn, breasts rising and falling with every hitched breath, nipples hard from the blend of cold air and blinding heat coiling through her core.

His hand didn’t grope them. It explored. Reverent, in the cruelest way.

His fingers traced over the curve of one breast as flame like fingertips danced across her thighs—her moan shattered the quiet. The flames responded, as though alive—sliding across her inner legs with teasing slowness, heat that licked but didn’t claim.

And then—

Snap.

The flames coiled around both her ankles, like serpents given command.

Another breath, and the ropes yanked outward—locking her legs open, secured to the couch’s metal frame. Vulnerable. Offered.

Her gasp hit the ceiling. Her back arched as her body betrayed her mind.

Pyris tilted his head. He knew. He could feel it.

Every inch of her wanted to fight—but every cell inside her was screaming to be ruined. She didn’t want gentle.

She wanted to be helpless.

And he’d give her that.

His mouth lowered to her throat, lips brushing skin flushed and trembling. Then down—to the delicate collarbone, her gasps deepening as his tongue left hot, wet trails of pink-gold across her chest.

And then—

His mouth closed around her nipple.

Hard.

She choked on a moan, head thrown back as flame erupted under her skin, her nerves catching fire with every suck, every teasing bite.

But he didn’t stop. His tongue circled once… twice… before moving to the other. She squirmed. The ropes held her still. She couldn’t escape even if she wanted to.

And gods—she didn’t want to.

His trail of worship moved lower, flame following like loyal beasts—down her stomach, over her trembling navel, then closer… closer to the searing wet heat between her thighs.

Her whole body shuddered.

Her voice, cracked and desperate, escaped in a half-broken cry.

“Pyris… please—”

He didn’t answer.

He just smiled.

And opened his mouth.

His breath lingered against her searing pussy—bare, trembling, aching.

Lekiza’s chest rose and fell in desperate rhythm, tied wide to the couch by glowing flame-ropes that pulsed with every beat of her heart. She looked like a sacrifice made for a god—and Pyris? He looked like one finally come to claim her.

He exhaled, warm against her slick folds, and watched her hips twitch. Then, with a lazy flick of his wrist, the pink-golden fire between her ankles danced up higher. It didn’t burn—it kissed. Teased. Toyed. A tendril curled along her thigh, brushing the inside slowly, deliberately, like a cruel secret being whispered into her skin.

And then he made it worse—in the best possible way.

More of his corrupted lust ignited in the air, swirling beside them. It twisted, shaped itself. She gasped as it became something. Something small, warm, and pulsing with magic—a thin rod of molten desire that hovered before her soaked cunt. She could feel it before it even touched her.

Her body jerked in the binds, already begging for it.

“Flame likes you,” Pyris murmured as he kissed the inside of her thigh. “It wants to taste you too.”

Then it did.

The small toy, soft and slow, slid over her folds—up and down, pressing, circling that one swollen spot that made her eyes roll back. She let out a half-sob, half-moan as the warmth touched her again and again, maddeningly gentle.

He leaned in closer, licking her pussy beside it. Not where she wanted—never where she wanted.

“You taste like sin,” he muttered, eyes glowing as he looked up at her from between her legs. “And I haven’t even really started yet.”

Then the second toy—this one shorter, rounder, and shaped like a tongue. It flicked once. Just once. Lekiza screamed—the kind of scream you only make when your soul gets touched in the exact right spot.

“That one,” Pyris whispered with a smirk. “We’ll keep.”

With her thighs still bound, unable to close or move, she had no escape from the teasing. His lips finally joined the game, tongue sliding in just under the flicking flame-toy. And she—Lekiza, Princess of the Human Empire—was a trembling mess.

Her hips bucked, her cries growing wilder with every swirl, every lick, every added layer of torture.

And yet—he still wasn’t inside her.

Not yet.

Because this was worship. This was about breaking her sanity first, reshaping her body to remember only him. Her soaked entrance clenched around nothing as another toy of fire pressed teasingly just inside, only to retreat the second she started moaning for more.

“Beg,” he said, mouth pressed against her drenched heat. “Beg for your god.”

The corrupted flames around her ankles pulsed as if alive—tight, molten ropes that held her wide open, helpless. Her wrists bound behind the couch, body trembling in exposed need, chest rising with every gasp as the golden-pink fire slithered across her skin like teasing tongues.

He watched her squirm, taking in the way her thighs clenched, trying to grind against nothing, the way her nipples stood flushed and wet from his earlier worship. Her eyes were unfocused—already cracking.

He stepped behind her again, voice low and honeyed sin. “I promised I’d destroy you… didn’t I?”

She didn’t speak. She whimpered.

So, he bent lower, lips grazing her ear. “Say it. Beg for it.”

Her breath hitched. “Please…” she whimpered. “Please destroy me… make me yours.”

He grinned.

A small hiss escaped the air as another flame sparked into existence between his fingers—morphing and hardening into a slick, glowing toy shaped not like any human instrument, but a perfect match for the depth of her untouched core. He traced it down her thigh, letting the heat kiss her skin before sliding the other toy from inside her, wet and still pulsing from her clenches.

A cry ripped from her throat the moment he swapped them—this new one, longer, thicker, started to vibrate violently the second it sank into her. Not soft, not teasing—but with the cruel rhythm of a god who knew every nerve she didn’t know she had.

Her legs jerked. Her back arched

“-Fuck—Pyris!” she screamed. Her voice cracked.

He didn’t wait. He stepped into the couch behind her, dragging her back between his thighs. The flames flickered off his body like a veil stripping away, until he stood—bare, burning, colossal. His cock curved up with a faint glow of corrupted desire, veined and heavy, the head already leaking with dark promise.

Her gaze dropped—and her breath shattered. “Oh my gods Light…”

He tilted her head up. “Open your mouth, Princess of the Humans.”

She obeyed with a soft moan, lips parting, tongue already trembling.

“Beg me for my cock, Princess.”

Her voice was hoarse, broken, horny. “I want it—I need it inside. Please—fuck my mouth. Use me—”

That was all.

He pressed the head between her lips, and she gasped, the taste of him flooding her tongue—rich, like corrupted honey and smoke. The vibration inside her suddenly ramped up, syncing with the slow, deep push of his cock down her throat.

She gagged—but her eyes rolled back in bliss.

He didn’t rush. He fed it to her slowly, inch by inch, watching her face contort in pleasure and pain as the toy deep inside her pulsed at the exact rhythm he moved. It was coordinated destruction.

Her throat stretched as he slid deeper, her walls clenching around the toy violently, liquid dripping onto the couch between her spread thighs.

A choked cry vibrated around his length as she tried to stay calm, but her whole body betrayed her—trembling, shaking, completely undone.

And then—he thrust forward hard.

She gagged, eyes wide, arms pulling against the ropes. At the same time, the toy exploded in vibration intensity, sending a wave of uncontrollable spasms through her.

Her body started convulsing. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her moans were muffled cries now, tears leaking down her cheeks, drool spilling as she tried to take all of him and couldn’t.

And Pyris? He just grabbed the back of her head, holding her flush against his base. Her lips stretched around the root, her throat bulging with his size.

He leaned close, voice growling like a dark god claiming his virgin sacrifice.

“You’re not gonna survive this night, Princess. And I’ll make sure you never want to.”

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!