The Spiral and Crystal Vice 18+
Chapter Thirty-Four: The Spiral
Nyxara sat on the cold crystal floor of her private sanctum, knees bent, legs parted, her back arched against the edge of her mirror. The room shimmered with residual magic, every surface catching glints of light that danced over her bare skin.
Her breath came in shallow gasps, body trembling as she rocked gently, chasing relief, chasing release.
But it wasn't enough.
It never was.
Her fingers moved between her thighs with practiced desperation, slick with her need, but no amount of pressure, no stroke or rhythm brought her over the edge. Her other hand gripped her breast tightly, twisting the aching peak, but still—
Still.
She couldn't finish.
"Fuck... Solene," she groaned, biting her bottom lip until it bled.
Images of the woman flooded her mind. That silver hair glistening with sweat. The way her ice had danced in controlled chaos. That confident smirk when she realized she'd won.
Nyxara's eyes fluttered shut as her fingers moved faster, deeper, spreading her slick folds wide, her hips rolling in want. But even the imagined memory of Solene gripping her throat, pinning her down, whispering threats against her skin—even that—wasn't enough.
"I want her," she hissed. "I need her."
She fell back against the floor, legs sprawled, thighs twitching. Her magic flickered wildly around her, the room growing warmer as her restraint began to crack.
With a snarl of frustration, she sat up on her knees, magic pooling in her palms. A glowing illusion of Solene formed before her—perfect in every detail. Nyxara reached out, trembling, and kissed the illusion's mouth. It was warm, familiar... but not real.
She threw it back with a growl, furious with herself.
"Why can't I fucking cum?!"
Her entire body shuddered, sweat dripping from her collarbones down to the space between her breasts. Her hand returned to her pussy, fingers coated in need, but her touch had lost its edge.
It was torture.
Not from lack of lust.
But from craving something deeper.
She needed to be touched by her.
By Solene.
Only then would her body obey. Only then would she fall apart the way she so desperately needed to.
She collapsed backward, spread wide, staring at the ceiling.
Her voice cracked in a whisper.
"You will be mine."
And somewhere deep in her heart, the dragon stirred.
Hungry.
Unsatisfied.
Nyxara sat on the cold crystal floor of her private sanctum, knees bent, legs parted, her back arched against the edge of her mirror. The room shimmered with residual magic, every surface catching glints of light that danced over her bare skin.
Her breath came in shallow gasps, body trembling as she rocked gently, chasing relief, chasing release.
But it wasn't enough.
It never was.
Her fingers moved between her thighs with practiced desperation, slick with her need, but no amount of pressure, no stroke or rhythm brought her over the edge. Her other hand gripped her breast tightly, twisting the aching peak, but still—
Still.
She couldn't finish.
"Fuck... Solene," she groaned, biting her bottom lip until it bled.
Images of the woman flooded her mind. That silver hair glistening with sweat. The way her ice had danced in controlled chaos. That confident smirk when she realized she'd won.
Nyxara's eyes fluttered shut as her fingers moved faster, deeper, spreading her slick folds wide, her hips rolling in want. But even the imagined memory of Solene gripping her throat, pinning her down, whispering threats against her skin—even that—wasn't enough.
"I want her," she hissed. "I need her."
She fell back against the floor, legs sprawled, thighs twitching. Her magic flickered wildly around her, the room growing warmer as her restraint began to crack.
With a snarl of frustration, she sat up on her knees, magic pooling in her palms. A glowing illusion of Solene formed before her—perfect in every detail. Nyxara reached out, trembling, and kissed the illusion's mouth. It was warm, familiar... but not real.
She threw it back with a growl, furious with herself.
"Why can't I fucking cum?!"
Her entire body shuddered, sweat dripping from her collarbones down to the space between her breasts. Her hand returned to her pussy, fingers coated in need, but her touch had lost its edge.
It was torture.
Not from lack of lust.
But from craving something deeper.
She needed to be touched by her.
By Solene.
Only then would her body obey. Only then would she fall apart the way she so desperately needed to.
She collapsed backward, spread wide, staring at the ceiling.
Her voice cracked in a whisper.
"You will be mine."
And somewhere deep in her heart, the dragon stirred.
Still hungry.
Still unsatisfied.
Still waiting.
---
An hour passed. Maybe two.
Nyxara had tried everything.
A vibrating wand, slick with oil and soaked with magic, pulsed against her clit.
Nothing.
A conjured phallus of thick, smooth glass, shaped by her own hand, slid inside her slowly, curved just right.
Still nothing.
She cursed, tossing it aside. Her body wanted it. Her pussy was soaked, her thighs slick, her entire body shaking with need. But the fire in her chest wouldn't break loose.
"This is madness," she spat, hair a mess, face flushed, body twitching from magical overuse.
Then, an idea.
With a flick of her wrist, her viewing crystal shimmered to life. She guided the scrying orb with delicate precision, a window forming in the air—and there she was.
Solene.
Standing in the bath, water cascading over her pale skin. Her silver hair clung to her shoulders, glistening as she tilted her head back, unaware of the watchful eyes above.
Nyxara moaned, a hand already between her legs again.
"Pin me down," she murmured, eyes wide as Solene reached for soap. "Choke me... make me beg... gods, just look at her."
She slid two fingers inside again, slow, then fast, curling them as her other hand massaged her clit in tight circles. Her hips lifted off the floor, her moans rising with every imagined motion.
"Fuck, yes... yes, Solene... more... gods, please..."
Solene arched her back under the water.
Nyxara screamed as her orgasm hit her like a hammer.
She sprayed her release across the viewing crystal, the surface flickering with magic as it shimmered beneath her fluids.
She collapsed backward, body twitching, gasping for breath, stars in her vision.
For a long moment, all she could do was lay there, sated, dazed, sticky with sweat and need fulfilled.
Then she muttered with a bitter laugh.
"Fuck... I hate... mating season."