Extra's Life: MILFs Won't Leave the Incubus Alone-Chapter 222: Lust gratified

The marble of the ritual circle was still slick beneath her shoulder blades when Aiden drew out of her, inch by agonizing inch. A thick rope of their mingled release followed, painting her inner thigh in slow, obscene streaks of crimson and pearl.

The emptiness hit her like a wound. She arched after him with a broken whine, hips rolling shamelessly in the air, chasing the stretch she was already addicted to.

Aiden’s laugh was dark velvet. "Look at you. One taste and you’re starving."

She couldn’t form words. Only nodded, frantic, yellow eyes blown wide with hunger. The chamber reeked of melted beeswax, iron, and the raw scent of their fucking. It clung to her skin like a second sin.

He lifted her as if she were made of smoke and silk, her ruined gown hanging in tatters, breasts bared and bitten, thighs trembling. The corridors swallowed them—long stretches of shadow and stained-glass moonlight, saints staring down in silent accusation. None dared intervene.

The ceremonial room was connected with her room, her quarters. And Aiden took full advantage of it.

Her bedroom came first.

He kicked the door shut and flung her onto the narrow virgin bed she had slept in alone for months. Lavender sheets, embroidered with tiny golden crosses, crumpled beneath her sweat-damp body.

Before he could speak she was crawling to him on hands and knees, mouth open, tongue already out like an offering.

He let her rip his robe apart. Let her greedy little hands wrap around his cock—still slick with her virgin blood and his spend—and guide him between swollen lips.

She licked him clean with reverent moans, thighs rubbing together, desperate for friction. When he threaded fingers through her white hair and pushed, she took him to the root without hesitation, throat fluttering, tears spilling, gagging and still swallowing more.

He fucked her mouth slow and filthy until her lips were bruised and shining, then pulled free with a wet pop that made her chase after him with a whimper.

"On your back, saint."

She fell back instantly, legs splayed wide, cunt glistening and fluttering around nothing. He crawled over her like a predator, lined up, and slammed home in one brutal stroke.

"Ahhh—fuck—Aiden—!"

The headboard cracked against the wall in a violent, steady rhythm. The bed screamed beneath them, ancient wood threatening to splinter.

Each thrust sent her breasts bouncing wildly, nipples dragging across his chest until they burned. She wrapped her legs high around his back and begged in broken fragments.

"Harder—please—harder—make me forget everything but you—"

He hooked her knees over his shoulders, folding her nearly in half, and gave her devastation. The angle was merciless; every stroke punched that devastating spot inside her until her eyes rolled white.

Wet, obscene sounds filled the room—slap-slap-slap-slap—her arousal dripping down her ass, soaking the holy linens in dark, spreading stains.

She was sobbing toward climax when the words slipped out. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"Aiden....Tomorrow—Elias—my childhood friend—he’s coming to—"

Aiden froze, buried to the hilt. The sudden stillness was terrifying.

"Say his name again," he whispered, voice lethal silk.

She swallowed, terrified and impossibly wetter. "E-Elias..."

He pulled out entirely. She wailed at the loss, but he flipped her onto her belly, yanked her hips up, and drove back in so hard her face mashed into the pillow that still smelled of her nightly prayers.

"That name, one if the important characters...no need to speak his name..," he snarled against her ear, teeth sinking into her shoulder until she screamed into the fabric.

Then he fucked her like punishment incarnate—hips snapping, balls slapping her swollen clit, one hand fisted in her hair, the other tormenting her clit in vicious circles.

She came instantly, explosively, squirting around him in messy pulses that drenched the sheets and his thighs. He didn’t slow. He forced her through it into a second, shattering climax that left her limp and babbling.

Only then did he drag her up by the hair, straddle her chest, and shove his cock between her lips again. She opened eagerly, throat already trained, and took every ruthless thrust until he spilled down her throat with a guttural curse, hips jerking, painting her tongue thick and endless.

She swallowed everything, eyes shining with delirious worship.

He carried her out again, still impaled, her legs locked around his waist, his spend leaking from both ends as they moved through the cathedral’s veins.

They never made it far.

The praying alcove of the God glowed faint crimson from votive candles. Aiden slammed her back against the freezing altar carved with scenes of divine slaughter. Her bare skin met cold marble and she gasped, cunt clenching around him.

He spun her, bent her over the altar, cheek pressed to carved swords and armor.

"Look at him," he growled, fisting her hair and forcing her gaze up to the stern stone face. "Look at your god while I fuck the sainthood out of you."

He took her savagely from behind, hips crashing, cock splitting her open again and again. Every thrust scraped her nipples across carved steel until they bled tiny red lines that only made her clench harder.

The acoustics here were cruel—every wet slap, every broken scream echoed back louder, surrounding them in their own filth.

She came screaming, release pouring down her thighs like unholy rain. He followed with a snarl, pumping her full until it overflowed and dripped onto the altar steps in thick, pearly ropes.

Still hard, still hungry, he carried her onward. To her shared prayer room.

The midnight prayer room was alive with kneeling priests and novices, their chants a low, constant drone. Aiden slipped them through the clergy door, hand sealed over her mouth, cock still buried inside her, moving with every step so she whimpered into his palm.

He pressed them into the shadowed corner behind the colossal statue of the God of Light. Darkness swallowed them.

"Kneel," he breathed.

She dropped to the penitent’s cushion, the shift driving him deeper. He braced one hand on the statue’s marble leg and began to move—slow, lethal strokes that made her shake apart in silence.

"Pray," he commanded.

Her voice cracked out, barely a whisper between thrusts.

"Merciful God... ahhhh...ahh..I have sinned...ahhh.. I have defiled—"

Each confession earned her a brutal thrust that punched the air from her lungs. Her forehead knocked against divine marble. Tears streamed as she begged forgiveness with one breath and his name with the next.

He fucked her harder, hand clamped over her mouth when her cries grew too loud, using her silence like a gag. She came silently, violently, body seizing around him, milking him in desperate pulses while the priests chanted ten feet away, oblivious.

He turned her, pressed her spine to the God’s ankle, lifted one trembling leg over his hip and slid home again. Forced her to stare into carved stone eyes while he took her apart with slow, grinding rolls that made her sob without sound.

She shattered a second time, nails carving bloody crescents into his shoulders, tears mixing with sweat as the choir’s hymn swelled in perfect, mocking harmony.

Only then did he let go—burying himself deep and spilling inside her with a muffled roar against her throat, flooding her until it dripped onto sacred ground in slow, blasphemous beads.

He never softened.

Carrying her out again, he climbed the hidden spiral stair to her private balcony high above the nave. Moonlight drenched the marble railing in silver. Below, hundreds knelt in midnight vigil—candles flickering like a sea of stars.

Aiden knew the ancient peephole was there, hidden behind a false saint’s face. The Pope was watching.

He set her on the wide balustrade, back to the void, nothing between her and the four-story drop but his body and the cock pinning her in place. Cool wind whipped her hair, kissed her fevered skin, teased her swollen clit where they joined.

"He’s watching," Aiden whispered, lips brushing her ear. "Right now. Let him see what his saint begs for."

She moaned, loud enough to carry, and rolled her hips in deliberate circles. "Let him see," she gasped, defiant, "how completely you own me."

Aiden’s smile was feral.

He pulled out slow, letting her feel the loss, then slammed home so hard her spine bowed and her scream echoed across the entire nave. Heads below jerked up, searching.

He fucked her without mercy—hips snapping, cock driving deep, wet slaps ringing out into the night. Each thrust rocked her perilously close to the edge; only his arm banded around her waist kept her from falling. Wind tore at her hair, her gown, her control.

"Look down," he snarled, fisting white strands and forcing her gaze over the railing. "Look at them praying while I breed their saint on demon cock."

Hundreds of faces tilted upward, candlelight flickering across confused, searching eyes. The danger detonated inside her.

She came with a ragged cry swallowed by the wind, cunt gushing around him, release spattering the sacred marble in shining droplets that glittered like fallen stars.

Aiden followed with a guttural snarl, slamming deep and spilling again—thick, endless pulses that overflowed and trailed down her thighs, carried away by the night breeze like offerings.

When the tremors passed, he stayed buried inside her, both of them panting into each other’s mouths. Far below, the congregation settled again, uneasy but obedient.

He brushed a strangely tender kiss across her swollen lips.

"Tomorrow," he murmured, "when the Pope blesses you with those trembling hands... you’ll still feel me leaking out of you. Won’t you?"

She laughed—low, wrecked, radiant—and clenched around him deliberately.

"Every second," she whispered. "Every prayer. Every breath. I’ll be full of you."

High above, unseen, the Pope closed the tiny shutter with shaking fingers and sank to his knees, whispering prayers that tasted only of ash and ruin.

While on the balcony, beneath cold moonlight and colder stars, the fallen saintess clung to her devil and smiled like someone who had finally come home. Her home.