Claiming Arwen

Lucen gritted his teeth, watching Arwen's body convulse beneath him, her pussy still pulsing, squirting, spasming around his cock. The bed was soaked. Her thighs were slick and trembling, her breath ragged and broken.

He gripped her hips tighter, thrusting even deeper, chasing his own finish. Each rough, deep stroke made her sob and moan into the sheets, body arching, her cunt milking him for everything he had.

Slap—slap—slap—schlk—schlk—slap—

He felt it building, the pressure tightening, cock throbbing. He leaned over her, pressing her down, hips grinding hard.

"Fuck—Mother—gonna—ah—"

He drove in deep one last time, cock buried all the way, balls pressed tight to her soaked, messy pussy.

He came hard.

Thick, hot spurts shot deep inside her, filling her up, mixing with the flood already leaking out. Her cunt clenched, pulling every drop from him, milking his cock for everything he had.

Arwen's body shuddered, voice caught between a moan and a sob, completely spent—mindless, wrecked, filled.

Lucen stayed buried in her, panting hard, watching his cum leak out around his cock, dripping down her thighs, soaking the sheets even more.

For a moment, nothing but the sounds of their breathing, the heat between their bodies, the wet, sticky mess joining them completely.

The system flickered again, but Lucen didn't care.

Arwen was sprawled face-down, panting, her whole body trembling. Sweat slicked her back, hair tangled, thighs still quivering. She couldn't move, couldn't speak—her mind washed blank, her body utterly spent and full.

Lucen rolled onto his back beside her, his chest rising and falling hard, sweat cooling on his skin. He glanced over, smirked at the wreck he'd left her, then finally let the system pop up before his eyes.

[PARTNER CLAIMED: LADY ARWEN]

Partner Bond established.

[Desire reset: 20/100]

[Affection: 100/100 – Max]

Claim Reward: Select one of Arwen's 5 core skills to add to your arsenal:

Light Sword Manifestation (Summon a blade of pure light; scales with magic power)

Blessing of Restoration (Advanced healing magic; can heal severe wounds, remove debuffs)

Radiant Shield (Barrier of light; blocks both physical and magical attacks)

Sacred Bindings (Light magic to restrain or paralyze targets; scales with willpower)

Aura of Command (Passive: Boosts presence, raises morale of allies and weakens enemies in range)

A soft chime as the panel hovered, waiting for his choice.

Arwen barely managed to roll to her side, eyes fluttering, face still dazed and blissed out. Her hand found his, squeezing weakly.

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a soft, happy whimper.

Lucen smiled, satisfied.

Lucen glanced over the list, not hesitating. Light Sword Manifestation—the signature blade, pure and brilliant, was the obvious choice. He selected it with a mental tap. The system chimed softly, a wave of new power settling into his core.

He turned to Arwen, who was still blinking up at him, lips parted and dazed.

He leaned in, catching her mouth in a slow, deep kiss—her hand coming up weakly to cup his cheek, fingers trembling. The kiss was hungry, sweet, full of heat and everything they'd poured out onto the bed. For a long moment, there was only the warmth of her lips and the taste of sweat and satisfaction.

She melted against him, sighing into his mouth, clinging weakly before her strength finally ran out. When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered shut and she slipped into sleep, spent and blissful, a soft smile on her lips.

Lucen watched her for a moment—her hair messy, skin glowing, body marked by everything they'd just done—before turning his focus back to the system.

Another notification hovered, new energy surging in his veins.

[Bloodline Progression: 15% – New Skill Unlocked]

Carnal Restoration

(Whenever Host engages in sex, rapidly restores health, stamina, and mana. Efficiency scales with partner's affection and desire.)

A surge of power ran through him—strength, stamina, the lingering ache in his muscles fading almost instantly, replaced by cool, easy energy.

He looked at Arwen's sleeping face, then at his own hands, flexing his fingers with renewed life.

Sex really is the best medicine, he thought, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

The sun broke through the curtains, golden light spilling across the rumpled sheets and the soaked, messy bed. Lucen was already up, showered and dressed, feeling lighter than he had in his entire life. He ate breakfast with Arwen—her still moving gingerly, eyes lingering on him with a mixture of pride and hungry memory.

Afterward, they went out to the estate's training ground. Arwen ran him through stretches, basic footwork, and sword forms. Her corrections were gentle, her touch lingering a little too long every time she adjusted his posture. But Lucen pushed himself harder, his stamina restored, mind clear.

When it came time to practice magic, Arwen stood beside him, demonstrating the technique for focusing light mana—drawing it to her hand, shaping it into a shimmering blade.

"This took me years to master, darling. Don't be discouraged if you—"

But Lucen didn't wait for her to finish. He breathed in, focused, and let the mana swirl into his palm. A bright, solid sword of pure light flickered into existence—smooth, clean, sharp as any real steel.

The blade shone with dazzling power, humming softly in his hand.

Arwen's eyes went wide, her mouth falling open.

"Lucen… how…?"

He grinned, spinning the sword with surprising ease.

"Guess I've got a good teacher."

He slashed the air, the sword leaving bright trails behind.

Arwen stepped closer, her gaze flicking from the blade to his face and back again, both proud and just a little suspicious.

She smiled, warmth and awe mixing in her voice.

"You really are a genius…"

Lucen just shrugged, savoring the pride in her eyes.

Days blurred together, each morning starting with Lucen rising full of energy, Arwen waking at his side—always a little sore, always glowing. The system didn't give him any new quests, and he realized why. He'd already claimed her, bound her as his partner. That slot was filled. The system would wait for the next conquest.

But that didn't stop him from taking her every night.

Raw, deep, until she was left limp and shaking, panting into the pillows, body marked and dripping, always full. Every night she surrendered completely, every morning she woke up more devoted, more proud, more in love.

Their days were full of training.

Swordplay, mana absorption, tactics. Arwen taught him everything she knew—sometimes in the garden, sometimes in the grand estate's halls, sometimes in secret, private chambers where they could hardly keep their hands off each other.

Her pride in his growth was endless. She watched him go from barely forming a mana circle to wielding the Light Sword with a skill that would humble knights and mages twice his age.

But her hunger for him, the way she looked at him every evening, was something that could never be sated.

Each night, Lucen came to her bed, and she opened herself to him without hesitation.

They didn't speak of guilt or shame, not anymore. The world outside faded away. He took her, again and again, sometimes slow, sometimes rough, sometimes so deep she sobbed his name and clawed at his back until she passed out beneath him—utterly spent, utterly his.

The system was silent, waiting.

But Lucen's life was anything but quiet.

He was getting stronger.

And so was the bond between him and his mother.