Chapter 315: Chapter-315

After several long minutes, the worst of the sharp tearing pain began to fade into a dull, throbbing ache. Heena experimentally rolled her hips, testing the sensation. The movement sent a spark of unexpected pleasure through the discomfort, making her gasp softly.

Samuel took the cue. He pulled back just a fraction, then slid back in with excruciating slowness. The drag of his cock against her sensitive, freshly opened walls made Heena moan loudly— a mix of lingering pain and growing, addictive pleasure. Each slow thrust stretched her anew, the burn still present but now laced with deep, pulsing fullness that hit spots she didn’t even know could feel so good.

"Ahh... oh fuck..." she moaned, her legs wrapping loosely around his waist. "It still hurts but... don’t stop..."

Samuel’s pace remained deliberate, long, gliding strokes that let her feel every inch of him entering and withdrawing. The wet, obscene sounds of their joining grew louder as her body produced more slickness, the blood gradually lessening. He kept one hand between them, thumb working her clit in tight circles, while the other braced beside her head, caging her in with his body.

Heena’s moans turned breathier, higher-pitched as pleasure began to overtake the pain. Every thrust dragged against that sensitive front wall, building a heavy coil of tension low in her belly. Her hips started meeting his on every downstroke, chasing the sensation even as fresh tears of overwhelming feeling slipped down her temples.

"Faster... please, Samuel— ahh!"

He obliged, picking up the rhythm just enough—still careful, still mindful of her tightness, but deeper now. The bed began to creak softly beneath them. Heena’s hands roamed his back, feeling the flex of those defined muscles as he moved inside her. The contrast of his roughness against her softness, the way her body stretched to accommodate him, the slick slide mixed with the faint metallic scent of blood—it all blended into something raw and intensely intimate.

Pleasure mounted steadily. Heena’s moans grew shameless, filling the room alongside the rhythmic slap of skin and their shared heavy breathing. "Yes— like that— oh god, it feels..."

Her words dissolved into a cry as her first orgasm in this body crashed over her. Her walls clamped down hard around his cock, fluttering and squeezing in rhythmic pulses. The intensity made her vision blur, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain again, her entire body shaking beneath him as slick gushed around his thickness.

Samuel groaned deeply, the tight contractions pushing him closer to his own edge. He thrust through her climax, drawing it out until she was whimpering and oversensitive, then buried himself deep and came with a low, guttural sound. Hot pulses of his release flooded her, mixing with her blood and wetness, the warmth adding another layer of sensation that made her twitch around him.

They stayed locked together for a long time afterward, panting, bodies slick with sweat. Samuel carefully withdrew, both of them hissing at the sensitivity. A small trickle of mixed fluids—blood, cum, her arousal—leaked onto the sheets, a visible reminder of what had just happened.

Heena lay there, dazed and trembling, the deep ache between her legs throbbing in time with her heartbeat. The pain hadn’t fully vanished, but it was now wrapped in a heavy, satisfied glow. Her body felt used, stretched, claimed in the most primal way, and this hypersensitive virgin form had responded with overwhelming honesty.

Samuel pulled her gently into his arms, pressing soft kisses to her damp forehead and murmuring her title like a prayer.

"Wife..."

.

.

.

Heena had completely lost count after the second round.

Like, she genuinely couldn’t remember how many times they’d both gone on and on throughout the night.

And whichever BASTARD author had written in those romance novels that "a hero could keep going for seven rounds without breaking a sweat"—Heena really, REALLY wanted to personally track that person down and fuck them up.

’You FUCKING MORON,’ she thought with exhausted rage. ’Try being a WOMAN and then you’d know what it’s like to go on for hours on end! See how YOU like it!’

Like, Heena had expected maybe two or three rounds at most. She was tired, this body was relatively inexperienced, it was Samuel’s first time—it SHOULD have been brief and awkward and over quickly.

But NO.

This fucking bastard had gone on for an ENTIRE NIGHT and HALF THE NEXT DAY.

The sun had risen at some point—Heena vaguely remembered seeing dawn light through the window during one of the brief pauses—but she couldn’t even remember when exactly that had been.

And she definitely couldn’t remember when she’d finally collapsed.

It wasn’t her fault, really. This body was just too weak, too inexperienced, too unprepared for the absolute MARATHON that had just occurred.

She’d passed out from sheer exhaustion somewhere around midday.

And when she finally regained consciousness, it was EVENING.

The sun was setting outside the window, painting the room in orange and gold light.

Heena blinked groggily, her mind slowly coming back online.

Her body had been cleaned—someone (probably Samuel, oh god, how embarrassing) had washed her thoroughly while she was unconscious. She was wearing fresh, clean sleeping clothes. The sheets beneath her were new and crisp.

Everything was neat and tidy and perfect.

Except for the fact that Heena’s ENTIRE BODY felt like a fully loaded truck had driven over it.

Multiple times.

In both directions.

Like, it hurt like HELL.

Her legs ached with deep muscle fatigue. Her back was sore from being bent in various positions she hadn’t attempted in this lifetime. Her wrists—especially the one that had already been sprained—throbbed with pain from gripping bedsheets and Samuel’s shoulders.

And most importantly, most painfully, most uncomfortably—her vagina hurt like absolute HELL.

She felt stretched, sore, bruised internally, like she’d been thoroughly and completely used for extended periods without adequate rest breaks.

’Never again,’ she thought with grim determination. ’NEVER AGAIN am I underestimating a virgin man’s stamina. Those repressed types are the WORST.’

She muttered under her breath, calling for the System in her mind.

The System appeared immediately, but he was pointedly avoiding making eye contact with her.

His little lion face was turned away, looking at the wall with great interest.

Because, of course, the embarrassing little bastard had LOST their bet spectacularly.

Heena looked at him with narrowed eyes and said accusingly in her mind, ’You fucking moron! Who told you to get me a body this inexperienced and weak?! Do you have ANY idea what I just went through?!’

Hearing that complaint, the System finally looked at her—though still somewhat sheepishly—and said defensively, ’Come on, Host! It’s not like I can just FIND bodies in some kind of marketplace with specific experience levels listed! I just read the mission story, take what the Bureau assigns us, and we need to work with it!’

Heena glared at him with utter annoyance and said, ’Whatever. Forget the body quality. What’s my current situation? What did I miss while I was unconscious for—’ she glanced at the window, ’—AN ENTIRE DAY?!’

Hearing that question, the System’s expression became more serious, and he said carefully, ’Um, Host... Maya has already been released from her house arrest.’