Ethan and Arwen passed through the cathedral’s imposing gates, stepping into a monumental hall that, on its own, exceeded thirty thousand square meters.

A massive altar dominated the back of the vast space, where rows upon rows of pews could easily seat fifteen thousand worshippers.

At that moment, however, the great hall stood completely empty.

Only the sound of the couple’s footsteps echoed across the marble floor, each step reverberating off the high walls and disturbing the sacred silence of the place.

"I don’t know much about the current state of the world," Arwen began, her emerald eyes wandering over the colorful stained-glass windows above, "but humans have united all gods into a single faith, haven’t they?"

"The moment they discover our existence, we’ll be declared their eternal enemies. Heretics. Servants of demons ’distorting the words of the gods.’"

"I know." Ethan nodded, a heavy smile curving the corner of his lips.

"Until then, we really need to work hard to ensure we have enough power to defend ourselves, don’t we?"

His hand moved in a slow gesture, settling first on the broad curve of her hip before gliding upward along the sensual line of her slender waist, until it finally reached the heavy underside of her enormous breasts.

Arwen gasped softly, a shiver running down her spine as Ethan’s fingers sank into her fat tits.

The soft, warm flesh melted around his fingers, spilling through the gaps between them as if it had been molded specifically to fit those hands.

The dense weight settled into his palms, pliant and impossibly soft, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the thin fabric that separated them.

Her stiff nipples pressed against his palms through the dress, two plump, hard buds revealing the trace of arousal she could no longer hide.

"Have you accepted me as your man yet?" he murmured close to her ear, as the two of them finally reached the altar.

The altar resembled those Ethan knew from churches on Earth: a platform with marble steps, the statues of the three goddesses rising behind it.

At its center, the altar itself stood in gold and silver, spreading out into elaborate wings that seemed ready to take flight.

Just behind it, beneath the joined bosoms of the three statues, stood a majestic throne.

And upon the golden surface of the altar lay a book—the only artifact from the past that had remained there.

The original sacred text of the faith of the three goddesses.

"Hmm... I lost the bet, didn’t I? And you’ve already proven yourself worthy. Why are you asking me that?" Arwen’s emerald eyes sparkled with curiosity, her head tilting slightly to the side.

"No big deal... it’s just that I’ve always wanted to fuck a priestess right on her own altar." Ethan replied with a mischievous smile, grabbing Arwen by the hips and pulling her forcefully against him.

His palm came down on the elf’s plump ass with a loud smack.

The heavy flesh caved beneath the impact, his fingers sinking deep into the tender mound before a languid wave rolled outward from the point of contact, traveling across the entire curve until it crossed the cleft and set the other cheek trembling in sympathetic response.

The sound profaned the sacred silence of the place.

"Nghnnn~~ You naughty human lord~" Arwen didn’t push him away, letting out a soft giggle that echoed through the vastness of the cathedral. "Do you want to take a priestess’s purity right here on this sacred altar?"

"Would your goddesses curse me for that?" Ethan chuckled softly, his hands gripping her hips before spinning her effortlessly in his arms.

"Hm... No. The purity of the priestesses of the three goddesses must be maintained, but since you’re the one taking it, there shouldn’t be any problems. They’re not like that fanatic of the sun," Arwen replied, a smile playing on her lips.

As she was spun around, her hands instinctively reached for the corners of the altar, her delicate fingers closing around the cold gold and polished silver.

One of Ethan’s hands remained firmly on her hips, while the other slid up along her delicate back, pressing her to lean forward.

Her enormous breasts hung loosely just below her torso, the heavy globes swaying with each trembling breath, their substantial weight pulling them downward.

With her back arched, her plump ass rose provocatively against his pelvis.

Despite the apparent calm in her voice, Arwen couldn’t hide the deep blush that spread across her pale cheeks, nor the rapid rhythm of her heart pounding against her ribs.

She had only begun to breathe again the day before, and after more than a hundred thousand years of purity, she was already about to lose her virginity to a man she willingly called her husband.

That was enough to draw a discreet little chuckle from the high elf, directed at herself.

She had never imagined this would be the path destiny would choose for her, but she wasn’t going to complain.

Ethan was a handsome man; he seemed to respect his women and had brought back to her some of the people she had loved most in her life.

For someone whose soul was doomed to oblivion, that wasn’t so bad.

"Nghnn~~" Arwen moaned, feeling Ethan’s hands slide down over her round buttocks, his fingers digging deep into the soft flesh, kneading the plump curves as the supple mass spilled between his fingers, as if he were trying to merge his hands into her very skin.

Grabbing the fabric of her dress, he gave it a firm tug.

The sound of tearing cloth echoed through the sacred cathedral, followed by a high-pitched, sweet squeal that escaped the elf’s lips.

Keeping her body leaning forward, she lifted her left hand from the altar, her slender fingers elegantly brushing a strand of greenish hair away from her beautiful emerald eyes.

Behind her, Ethan could only gasp, his gaze sliding from her delicate shoulders down to her narrow waist, then over the flare of her wide hips until it reached her sinfully full ass cheeks, now framed by the tatters of the torn fabric.

His hips pressed against hers, his hard cock throbbing painfully between her plump buttocks, separated from her soft skin only by the tight fabric of his pants.

He brought down another firm slap on her left ass cheek.

The pale flesh flattened beneath the broad impact of his hand before springing back with a heavy bounce.

A pink handprint slowly bloomed across her porcelain skin, while a deeper tremor rippled through the plump globe.

Immediately afterward, his hand slid down to the zipper of his own pants.