chapter 19

Chapter 19

Rikka's POV

After those demons left, I remained where I was, sprawled out on the cool crystal floor. My body still ached, but whatever strange medicine the stunning demon had given me was working faster than anything the shamans back home ever used. It dulled the pain, numbing my wounds in a way that almost felt unnatural.

As I lay there, my mind churned over everything that had happened today. None of it made sense.

I had been saved—by demons.

Not just any demons, but ones running a dungeon.

Everything I had been taught since childhood screamed that demons were monsters, destroyers, creatures of chaos that had to be eliminated on sight. They were the reason for some of the worst invasions in history. And yet… a demon dungeon had saved my life.

What are they?

Because they weren't the demons I had been raised to fear.

And then there was the dungeon core…

I had never seen anything like him before. He was beautiful, in a way that defied everything I thought a demon could be. If he had told me he was a woman, I might have believed him—if not for the massive contradiction between his legs. I hadn't meant to look, but when it had nearly hit me in the face earlier, I had no choice but to notice.

That monster he carried would put even the strongest orc warriors to shame.

A shame he wasn't an orc. If he were, I wouldn't have hesitated. He saved my life. He proved his strength. He would have been worthy of me.

I sighed, pushing myself upright. My legs wobbled, but I managed to stay on my feet as I trudged forward. My wounds still throbbed, but the worst had passed.

Before I even realized where I was going, I found myself heading toward the core's chamber. But as I stepped inside, I paused, blinking in confusion.

This is a core room… isn't it?

And yet, in the distance, a structure stood. Not a shrine or pedestal like I had expected, but something resembling a home.

Frowning, I moved closer, reaching the door.

Then—

A sound.

A high-pitched cry.

My ears twitched, and I stiffened. Someone was in there. Hurt? No, not quite. The noise was… different.

Wariness crept in, but curiosity won over. I stepped forward, following the sound through a hallway beyond the glowing crystal at the center of the chamber. The cries grew clearer as I neared a corner, and when I peeked around—

I froze.

My breath hitched, eyes widening at the sight before me.

On a massive, bed-sized crystal, the dungeon core had the smaller one—Nike, I think his name was—pinned beneath him. His hooves were lifted high, resting over the core's delicate-looking shoulders, but there was nothing delicate about the way he was being taken.

Slow. Deep. Savage.

I swallowed hard.

The demon that had seemed so refined, so elegant before, now moved with raw, unrestrained dominance.

I shouldn't have been watching.

I shouldn't have.

But my legs refused to move.

Instead, I slowly backed against the wall and slid down, my breath shaky as I listened to the sounds filling the chamber. The sharp cries. The breathless moans. The rhythm of their movements.

Why did Nike sound so adorable?He was a man.

My fingers twitched, and before I could stop myself, my hand moved to my chest, grasping at my breast, kneading roughly. My other hand drifted lower, slipping beneath my waist wrap, fingertips ghosting over my already dampened slit.

I bit my lip hard, stifling the small gasp that tried to escape.

I shouldn't be doing this.

And yet, my mind wandered back to earlier—to that brief moment when the dungeon core's cock had been right in front of me. I had tried so hard not to react, but his scent had nearly shattered my composure. That intoxicating musk—thick, heavy, designed to break rational thought—had nearly unraveled me right then and there.

Now, I craved it.

I wanted to be in Nike's place. I wanted to—

"Oh, Rikka… I didn't know you came in."

The voice, quiet and teasing, sent a violent jolt through my body. My head snapped to the side, and my breath hitched as I met his eyes.

Azazel.

He was looking right at me.

I froze.

He lifted a hand, giving me a small, casual wave—like I hadn't just been caught touching myself to the sight of him ruining another man.

His voice came again, this time in my head, smooth and amused.

"Can we move away from here? Nike passed out before I was fully satisfied, and I don't want to wake him."

His words registered, but my mind struggled to keep up. Slowly, my gaze drifted downward, trailing over his lithe, delicate frame until—

Oh.

My breath caught in my throat.

His cock—still hard—throbbed between his legs, the veins pulsing beneath the dark blue and purple skin, now stained white from the mess covering it. Thick, sticky, and dripping down in slow, lazy streaks.

A new heat coiled in my gut.

And all I could think was—

He's still not done.

POV: Azazel

After catching the still-dripping, peeping orc, I slowly stepped away from the hallway, leading us into what could be called the living room—where my core rested, pulsing with a soft glow. I took a moment to shift my consciousness into the core, summoning a few crystal formations outside my little home. The first took the shape of seats, smooth and polished, while the final structure formed into a large table, its surface shimmering with faint reflections of the core's light. Once finished, I returned to my body.

"Follow me, beautiful," I murmured.

Rikka blushed slightly but obeyed without hesitation. I found it strange—yesterday, she had seemed willful, strong, and proud, yet now she was desperate, craving what I had given Nike.

As we reached the newly-formed table, I discreetly checked her status, searching for any abnormalities. There was nothing that immediately stood out—no signs of manipulation, no curses, no magical influences. Then it hit me.

I'm an incubus.

Lustful Charm—one of my passive abilities—could have affected her. And then there was my other passive: Intimidating Presence. Could one of them have driven her into this state? Whether it was my natural allure or something deeper, the result was the same. She wanted this. She wanted me.

I pointed to the table.

Slowly, Rikka climbed onto it, shifting until she was lying on her back, her strong legs spreading to reveal every inch of herself. I took in the sight—the way her muscles tensed, the slight tremble in her breath, the heat radiating from her flushed skin.

"Rikka, I need you," I growled, my cock throbbing, eager to reclaim the pleasure of stretching, slamming, and breeding.

I positioned myself between her thick thighs, aligning myself with her slick entrance. But before pushing in, I met her gaze. Her eyes swirled with both lust and uncertainty—perhaps I was the largest she'd ever taken. A part of me relished that thought, but I restrained myself.For now.

I ran my hands along her waist, gliding over her smooth, toned stomach, then finally gripped her hips, preparing her for what was to come. Slowly, I began to push inside. Her folds resisted, her walls clenching around me as I stretched her open. Inch by inch, I claimed her, forcing her body to accommodate every thick inch until I finally bottomed out.

A bulge rose in her abdomen, proof of how deep I had gone.

Rikka had remained quiet through it all, biting her lip, her determination admirable. But I knew she wouldn't be able to hold back forever.

I withdrew slightly before thrusting back in, watching her face twist with pleasure. Her restraint faltered as I picked up the pace, her breathy gasps turning into full moans. The heat, the tightness—it was overwhelming. I wanted to take my time, to savor her, but the way her body clenched around me was driving me insane. My thrusts quickened, hips slamming against hers as her strong orcish frame shuddered beneath me.

"Rikka," I groaned, my voice rough with need.

She couldn't hold back anymore. Her moans turned into guttural sounds, a mix of pleasure and strain. Her fingers dug into the crystal beneath her, gripping desperately as my movements grew wilder, rougher.

"Delicate flower," she gasped between moans. "You're being too rough—I'm going to break."

A dark, primal part of me stirred at her words.

Break her? Make her mine completely? Turn her into a quivering, obedient mess?

The thought sent a wicked thrill through me.

Without slowing, I shifted our position, angling deeper, ensuring every thrust pushed against her most sensitive spots. The minutes bled into hours, her body writhing beneath me, her strength faltering as she climaxed again and again, her muscles twitching in overstimulation.

Finally, I could hold back no longer.

With a final, deep thrust, I buried myself to the hilt, releasing thick, hot ropes of seed deep inside her. Her stomach bulged again as I filled her to the brim, marking her, claiming her. As I slowly withdrew, the excess spilled out, pooling between her trembling thighs.

Rikka's eyes rolled back, her body going limp as exhaustion finally overtook her.

"Sleep well, Rikka," I murmured, brushing a strand of her damp hair from her face.

After cleaning myself off, I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before retreating back inside my home.

Nike was still on my crystal slab, his delicate form bathed in the gentle glow of the core. With a satisfied sigh, I climbed onto the bed beside him, pulling him close before letting sleep claim me.